Found Tarot

The World

Experience wholeness, achieve dynamic balance, join together, realize your goals, prosper, achieve your heart's desire, see your dreams come true, find a beautiful solution, use your gifts and talents, share yourself, count your blessings.

Now Be Thankful

I have been bashing a small piece of fiction around. It is one of those nights when every time I try to write it, I am pulled away with the desire to write something else - (pulled this time into yet another Faramir story... or perhaps two. Cruisedirector, I blame you...) Trouble is, Faramir likes to get his own way, and he has had me wrapped around those beautiful bowman's fingers of his for nearly fourty years. I woke with his voice ringing in my head, singing me a Richard Thompson song:

When the stone is grown too cold to kneel
In crystal waters I'll be bound
Cold as stone weary to the sounds upon the wheel

When the fire is grown too fierce to breathe
In burning irons I'll be bound
Fierce as fire weary to the sound upon the wheel

Bad enough -- but I am sharing the rest of my brain with Denethor. (They do not make good company for each other!) Dad is concerned that I never wrote the last poem in his series. Chris, I blame this part on you, because I know you want to use it in your banner story follow up. Make it stop, will you? The story I am supposed to be finishing is at your instigation, after all!

Do I write too many Faramir stories?

what hug

hug from behind - you like to feel what the other
person is feeling and see things how they see
them. you tend to be serious and emotional.

What Sign of Affection Are You?
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arrival myths

This juxtaposition of Tarot and Folk Music has me thinking back to a conversation I once had with Robin Williamson. (He was playing at Outta Sights and Jim and I picked him up from the airport.) He was telling me an Amerind story about an ant and a belt of strength, and when I thanked him, I mentioned that I collect creation myths. He paused, I think running through his memory banks for a story for me, and came up blank. I could see it cross his face. He turned to me and said "We [meaning Celts] don't have any, do we!" I had never thought of it that way. I ran through my own memory banks and I laughed and said, "No, we don't. Arrival myths, but no creation myths."

Later, I was thinking about a recurring dream I had as a child of trying to gather up bright points of light out of the night sky into my arms, like nuerons in a net. I decided I would write myself a personal creation myth. After several attempts, I had to admit I was unable to do it. In spite of all the things I look back on as wonderful, I come to the point where I feel I begin as a person, and I find that I don't seem to care about all the years before Jim saved my life and I ran away to be with him in New Jersey. My life comes to a screeching halt - and then begins again. New Jersey.

Have you ever heard the part in The Transformation of Myth Through Time when Joseph Campbell tells the David Suzuki story about reaching Nirvana? The "people" are equated with New Yorkers, all yearning for the light on the far shore, (because no one has told them it is New Jersey.) Then they begin to attain spirituality, and they get to take the ferry. Of course, when they attain real enlightenment they reach New Jersey and some of them begin to yearn for the light on the far shore that they have forgotton is New York.

New Jersey! An Arrival myth.*Sigh* It must be in the blood.