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got paranormal activity?
It cracks me up when there is a title for wiki entries stating it "has multiple issues." So I think refried wrote about some of the witchcraft shops with religious notions, a blend of the paranormal with Christian/Catholic tradition--would like to see more writing on this. Just a description of one of these shops would make for an amazing blog...— October 17, 2009 3:22 p.m.
got paranormal activity?
Cuddle, would you say that it is common in your family, and even cultural, such occurrences? Visions portending doom or luck, for example? Are they usually religious in vehicle, such as the premonition of the portrait?— October 17, 2009 5:59 a.m.
"I KNOW you gonna dig this"
"Took the day off yesterday and wrote some fiction." ;)— October 17, 2009 2:31 a.m.
got paranormal activity?
Once, I was sleeping at an aunt and uncle's house, in their wood-paneled, cabin-like spare room. My sleep was heavy and dark, and I slept with a hand pressed flat on the cool wooden wall against which the little cot bed was cozied. I had one of those fevers of childhood that hold on viciously, and dry out a little body faster than juice or cold milk can replenish. Something roused me, and I felt eyes boring into me from behind, near the room's door or the bookcases leaning on the adjacent wall. Holding my breath, I turned my head on the damp pillow, and found standing in three-quarter turn before the thin line of light from under the door, a life-sized, cartoon-like, but perfectly drawn figure, like an illustration from a book. It was a centaur. I knew what they were from mythology stories. He had a full beard like my young uncle, a bare chest, and the body and sturdy musculature of a chestnut horse. Across his chest was slung a strap, and I could see sheath of arrows. There may have been a bow affixed to the strap, too. The centaur had a beautiful male face, and bright blue eyes, with long wavy dark hair, like those calm-eyed portraits of a very Caucasian Jesus. The centaur stared with such a calm, and I stared back, my head feeling as light and dry, and echo-empty as a balloon trailing out its helium. If I breathe or blink, he will go, I thought, with perfectly reasoned intuition. The centaur stared and glowed, seeming to agree with this conclusion. Don't go, I ventured silently. I will count to ten, but then I'll have to breathe or blink, and you will stay. I counted, and felt my lungs squeeze and my eyes stretch and begin to tear up. I blinked. The centaur vanished. Analysis: Children have hallucinations all of the time, and this was not my first (another time during a fever, I had seen a large "space worm" in a silver uniform, posed in front of a console full of buttons and gauges in my open bedroom closet). Though I ate little for dinner on the night of the centaur, there was relish on the table, and sodium and fat-filled boiled franks, foods known to cause nightmares and vivid dreams. The house was unfamiliar to me, which fuels a young imagination. I was sick. In the wood-paneled spare room, there was a pencil sketched portrait of Jesus. The most remarkable aspect of my vision was the sharpness of outline and detail of this figure. Perhaps he'll return tonight, this time with something to say, less picky about blinking ;)— October 17, 2009 2:25 a.m.
"I KNOW you gonna dig this"
First post snarf! "Graham Greene" "I think we've ALL seen Bonanza." --that lady in Donnie Darko :)— October 16, 2009 11:18 p.m.
Bonus Blog: Funny Things Cats Do
There is a link to "Stella's" work through the cafewriter thingy that comes up. So Alo was a Turkish Angora (RIP, Alo)--did he love the water or what? Or am I thinking of Turkish Van cats?...— October 16, 2009 11:12 p.m.
A Fairy Tale for S(wine Flu) Daniels
"Does he eat away the cone bit by bit, in proportion with the ice cream, so that the ice cream always pokes up above the cone." Exactly. ;) I have a feeling you would love this book. He is also wonderful on the subject of making lists, but the one on drinking and smoking is the absolute cream--my cuz and I have read it out loud and everyone chokes.— October 16, 2009 11:09 p.m.
Too Sweet For a Price
Ditto! Maybe he has started on that libretto? :)— October 16, 2009 11:02 p.m.
To Rebuild--Then See It Gone Forever!
I thought of you immediately, too--AG. Kudos to you both for finding the strength to carve out and inhabit your own character in this world--no matter what you've endured--you are people to admire for not giving up on humanity. And Robbie, I hope you can let go of the jacket and all it symbolizes--a tough one, since jackets envelop like hugs. Here is a cyber hug for you instead *(Robbie)* :)— October 16, 2009 10:29 p.m.
A Fairy Tale for S(wine Flu) Daniels
So is L. Rust Hills's! There is also an essay on "How to Eat an Ice Cream Cone;" while his family stands around with sticky faces and fingers, Hills proudly displays his carefully crafted mini cone (end of the actual cone, with a bit of ice cream left), and then neatly pops it into his mouth :)— October 16, 2009 10:19 p.m.