Aranansi #5: Walk on the Wild Side

January 18, 2010, 15:48
“Where am I going? It can only be the end of the world.”
Sometimes I get the urge to walk out on the wild edges of the city. Yesterday afternoon was one of those times. I packed a bag with dark bread, white cheese and a bottle of the Night Bee’s wine (nobody makes wine like the Night Bee). And I walked over the arch of Train street bridge, down the long hill past the low sprawling houses that spread further and further apart. Trees and meadows took the place of houses, and the road was replaced by a path that dwindled into a track winding through the woodlands. After a while I found myself in Dim Bone Hollow underneath a blue sky. The wind was shepherding a few stray clouds. All was damp and sparkling. I sat down in the meadow  in the center of the hollow amongst the bright winter wild flowers, and took alternating bites of the coarse dark  bread and smooth cool cheese. I decided to save the wine for later.
As I got up to go I noticed that the afternoon was fading into twilight, and as I had a few miles yet to go, I picked up my pace a bit. The hollow narrowed down to a ravine where I had to pick my way along the muddy stream bank among the boulders and brush in the deepening shadows.
Once I had to stop and remain still as some hornshadows tromped through the dense forest on the ridge at the top of the canyon. There are two beasts that a hiker has to look out for around here, big cats and hornshadows. The big cats are silent and drop from above so there is not much a person can do to avoid them, but the hornshadows are tall and heavy and make a great deal of noise as they move. They also give off a pungent odor so generally it is easy to know when they are about.  Hornshadows are not vicious or even ravenous creatures, but they are curious, clumbsy and immensely strong. At times they can even be playful which makes them even more dangerous to smaller more frail creatures like me. I don’t really think they like to eat people, but I wouldn’t want to test that theory. Besides to avoid them, all you have to do is not be noticed by them which is usually as simple as standing still behind something. Which I did for about 5 minutes as they bumbled past just out of sight..
The shadows deepened. I knew I must be moving along, and that was easier now that there was more space now between the the creek and the canyon walls which gradually smoothed into hills. Then I started to hear some raucous sounds and splashing up ahead and cautiously peered over the edge of a small waterfall to see a party of five hornshadows frolicking about in a pool with some kind of freshly killed large animal. They are about ten feet high, black or very dark blue with enormous heads and shoulders from which antlers protrude randomly. They have long arms that end in broad handlike paws with long nails. Their legs are long and their feet broad and short. Hornshadows generally move about on two legs, but will use all four for moving quickly. I watched them knock each other about and rip chunks out of the carcass until the water was dark and rusty in the gloom. Finally they dragged their meal off into the woods, bellowing and grunting as they went. Cautiously, I made my way down to the pool carefully picking my way through the bloody mud.
About a half mile further down I came to the path that leads past the owl wood into the park and back into the city. I was glad to see the well tended path as the light had almost completely faded. I could here the gentle voice of night calling as I passed the owl wood.
On the other side of the path, the glow from the floating lantern globes in wading pool lit the down turned faces of children fishing with their hands for the brightly colored minnows that swarm in intricate patterns in the clear water. People say the pool is shaped like Texas. To me it is shaped like an uprooted tree stump with a upside down mountain clinging to its roots.
Posted in Aranansi, dangerous creatures, Dreamtime, Fiction, Of the Road and The River, Other peoples words, Telling Stories, Walking, Wild Life | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Aranansi #3: Miro in the Well (A Bach Fugue?)

January 10, 2010, 12:34

A couple of days ago, I was walking next to my young friend, Miro. We were crossing a large field of dry grass. I looked at the line of distant mountains on the horizon just over some low tangled trees. When I looked back to where Miro should have been. He wasn’t. I looked down and saw the top of his white sailor’s hat about 20 feet down a cement tube that was a foot wider than Miro. He was sinking into the water at the bottom.
“Try to slow yourself down,” I shouted.
He stuck out his arms and slowed himself to a stop just as the water came up to his chin.
Luckily, a group of people passed through the field a few moments later, and one of them was able to find a rope. We pulled Miro out. By that time his mother was there to take him home, and I went on my way alone. As I walked away something about the well in the field with a boy and a rope made me think of Johann Sebastian Bach and his music. Maybe something like this happened to him. In his time Germany must have been full of wells.

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Aranansi #4: Miranda and the bull

January 12, 2010, 18:24

A tan bull with large curved horns on a head the size of the front of a VW bug greeted me as I entered through the back gate. I had to move quickly to avoid an unfortunate goring incident. I spotted Miranda on the porch. She is 4 years old and often impossible to understand. She was putting some coins into one of the many vending machines lined up against the wall on the back porch of a crumbling pile of a California Victorian mansion. I scrambled up next to her. An old man and young woman moved busily around the porch. Without speaking I picked up Miranda and headed down the stairs. No bull in sight. But as my foot left the last step, I saw his swiftly moving bulk out of the corner of my eye. I could feel and hear the rumbling earthquake of his hooves on the hard patchy lawn. I headed for the gate at the front along the side of the decaying house that resembled a rambling mountain of boards. Meanwhile the shambling mountain of cow came thundering from behind. He was gaining fast. So I did a quick 180 and lost him for a second or two. We got back to the porch. Miranda had this quizzical look on her face, but seemed to be unconcerned about the bull, that had come up the steps onto the porch after us. I jumped down, grabbed Miranda and got us to the gate. I looked back and saw no sign of big and beefy. I pulled on the gate, but it would only open about 2 feet. I had no idea if I could fit through.

I put Miranda down and said, “Go!”

She looked up at me and pointed back, “Izzat what you are tho Thkared of?”

The bull was charging toward me down the narrow strip of yard.

I froze as the thunder filled my being. Miranda gently pulled me out by my hand and closed the gate. There was crashing crunch and the gate gave a little but held.  As we hurried away, the bull pulled the  impaled the gate off of its hinges, and was frantically bashing about.

Miranda rolled her eyes and shook her head at both me and the bull.  I took her hand, and we walked away past the firecracker boys huddled around something they were trying to blow up. I hoped it was not something I cared about.

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Aranansi #2: My Home in The Dream City

January 03, 2010, 06:39

The place I live in now is a workshop room. I sleep on a pad under a large wooden work table in the center of the room. I have not always lived here. Since I came to this city I have lived in many places with many different people. No one ever says my name here. I am who I am and everyone is aware of that.

The light here is different as if it were squeezed from a tube labeled halo and spread evenly over everything. The shadows are places I cannot see and may or may not be holes in the world. They are the places I cannot imagine yet.

I cannot say what year it was or how long ago I came to live here among the dreamers, but it has been most of my life. The city is endless. There is an ocean, and stars that shine whenever they are useful. I am wandering around picking the things I can tell you for words do not work well here. They avoid meanings and scurry away into corners. They have to be rooted out with a broom and swept into piles.

 

Today my friend Dudley came to see me. He was tinkering with the bright white clock radio I found and repaired.

“I only want something I can dance to,” He said in frustration. He is from the islands where dancing is the important thing. “All I can get is this Mozart crap, and you can’t dance to Mozart.”

My radio only plays Mozart and feels my room with such sweet despair, sometimes I have to go out and breathe.

As Dudley continued fussing with the radio, I looked out of the window, which was the window that used to be in my grandparents house. I could see the lawn and suburban street from a town where my father grew up. There were two small boys trying light firecrackers. I pointed them out to Dudley, who put down the radio in disgust, and looked out absently.

“Oh yes! Those boys is always trying to set the world on fire.”

 

I am going to see if I can make my radio play something Dudley can dance to. He is lonely and far from home where dancing is what people do. I have not seen much dancing here. There are games and painting. People build things and play music, but I don’t remember much dancing. I am not sure how I will make it work maybe if those boys will give me a couple of firecrackers. That might do the trick.

Posted in Aranansi, Dreamtime, Fiction, House and home, mindworks, music, Telling Stories | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Aranansi #1: Another World of Words

I have been posting a series of dream stories on another blog, but since I started this blog as an experiment in including all my explorations in all my worlds, inside and outside of me. I feel that I should just bring it all together into this space, still fragmented me but all in one place. I just tend to forget about the dream story when it is off to the side. It is me as much as anything else is me. This is all me, but still not all of me. I haven’t located all the floating pieces in the currents, eddies and backwater fringes, but I am keeping a sharp eye out as I drift along.

December 28, 2009, 16:54

I am interested possible realities and the worlds that we humans make in our heads. I have been  putting my thoughts down in words since I learned how to write, but now I am trying to take the time to do this for more than just my own thinking process, though I hope that comes through as well. I want to create worlds and concepts which others can inhabit and maybe find something of interest or inspiration. I have, for a long while, been too busy being a father, husband, preschool teacher, and balancing these occupations to use words to explore my thoughts and imagination. I will just start paddling and see where the current and my mental muscles will take me. I will try to make my boat big enough to carry whoever wants to come with me.

Posted in Aranansi, Dreamtime, mindworks, my life, Telling Stories, thinking in words | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment