Friday, May 6, 2011

The Events of 1/20 - 2/5 - Chapter 17 - Note Trees and Geometry

January 11, 2011
Christopher - I was overcome, with a unity of vision, longing and and containing, home here, and home beyond, the base of a tree, is the center of the world, where hopes and dreams, become one and the same, i was overcome with gratitude, all will be answered here, my heart grew larger, i felt as a ghost, with only a large floating heart, bleeding out into the roots of the tree of life, your hopes and my hopes, are the same, we are one, we are family.. are journey is our lives...

January 20, 2011
Lee -I woke to the sound of birds and chattering squirrels, as well as Maku humming to himself; the wonder of this place!
I realized now more than ever that I was living in fantasy here; this hut that I was led to last night is IN the tree.
Climbing the ladder with just a bit of lantern light did not allow me the full impact of where I was; nestled in the branches of the gigantic information tree.  This space was small and sparse; I could see that it had not been used in a very long time.
I must be way off the trail.  I really wished the others in the group could be here. This place is a treasure that needed to be shared.
Unfortunately there is no way to communicate with the group.
I hoped that they would find the many notes I'd left behind.
We certainly seemed to be traveling different paths on this journey...
I'm sure there is a reason that I've been separated for most of the time from the others in this group.  It will be interesting, at some point, to compared stories of our adventure here; but that will be for a latter time, unless we stumble across each other.  No matter now, there's so much here to sift through.  No time to waste on idle musings ....

 Lee Goldberg - Planning to Stay Awhile

Mark - I imagined for a moment a time slit that was a note that grew like a plant. And as it grew, the emotions in the note grew with it, deeper and more vibrant and the time slit came along for the ride, stretching and elongating and waiting until the emotional content of the note and the person who would read it and the place they needed to go all coincided until that time-space passenger would squeeze through the slit at just the right moment and emerge on the other side precisely when and where they needed to be, with their former self left behind like a shadow that was no longer needed...

January 21, 2011
William -  And HEAT!!! "RIA!!!!" I spun around, thinking my backside was on fire and stared. Flames were erupting from Ria's rucksack. I spotted Blue in a nearby tree and although I'm not an expert on squirrel expressions I would have sworn he had a sheepish look on his face.

Ria screams, " waffle iron!!!"
I start to pour the last of my water bottle on it but Susan grabs my arm.
"We can use that!", she exclaims. "Grab the balloon and hold it over the flame."

Darn, that woman is a genius, I thought as the balloon gradually started to fill with hot air. Soon it towered over us and it did resemble Mark I thought. We tried to keep in weighted down with the ropes we had thrown over the top.

 Susan Shulman - Flying up the Mountain

"It's pulling us up!" I yelled as a breeze caught us. My feet starting to skim the sand.
Soon the three of us were fully airborne clutching the ropes for dear life, but laughing madly at the adventure of it all.

I looked back at the beach as it slowly receded and spotted Blue scurry back to the pack, flip the flap and extinguish the flame. It almost looked like he waved but I couldn't be sure.

I was snapped back to our situation when Ria yelled, "Tree - straight ahead - Brace for impact!"
We sure did..impact! We hit those branches hard enough to pull our grips from the ropes.
A tangle of arms, legs, ropes, balloon and branches...

In a tree.

Filled with notes.

January 20, 2011
Mara - Lee said, "We grow in the shade of our own lives. I'd love to have a tree house but we don't really have trees big enough...or strong enough..and cacti just won't work so well...."

Lee - I sat in the hut going over some of the new things I'd found here...I kept the fire going out side in hopes the others might see the smoke and find this place..
Even tho it'd not been used in a long time , it seems ready for visitors.
Someone must be taking care of these huts and I doubt it it's squirrels or monkeys.
whap womp thump..........what the hell? the entire tree shook.
Earthquakes on Analogue? I thought I'd left that behind in L.A.
Then I heard squawking of birds; the squirrels and monkeys yelped; and the were very human sounds in the mix!!
Hummm...I think they might have found me...
At least I sure hope it's some of our group up there .......

 Lee Goldberg - Time to Send up a Smoke Signal

January 22, 2011
Mara - After unloading the food, in unison the squirrels and I went to the front of the wagon. Reaching under the seat one of them pulled out a flagon and with great glee they pulled my shirt, herding me towards a sunny spot just up the hill. Reaching it, the flagon was uncorked and passed around.

Mara Thompson - Bantag Milk Wagon

Fifteen minutes later we were all giggling, snuffling, jostling one another and feeling quite cozy. In order to gain some perspective on the situation I decided to climb up the boulders which we had been leaning on.

Though I couldn't quite feel my feet, I reached the top. The view from here was exquisite.

‎"This is a place I can think in", I thought. While I've been concerned with this rather fussy task (after all, the squirrels have handled food delivery for eons) where are the others? Looking up slope I noticed something that was different from the surrounding area. "Yikes, how can I communicate with them", I wondered. At that my brain was (and I'm not joking) invaded by several voices.

 Lee Goldberg - Mara Gathers Thoughts

January 23, 2011
Susan - I was grinning like one of those crazy green monkeys and I have to say with a similar blushing tint of motion sickness because of the increasing height and altitude we were achieving. My mouth was open, unable to close, breathing in the cold air, as we glided hastily up the mountain. I kept fluttering my eyes as the speed of the wind kept blowing onto my eyelashes with such force it was hard to see. It even felt like ice crystals were forming on the edges of my long black newly mascara-ed lashes! (Yes I snuck some into my hair before I left)
“RIA…. Bill…we did it…we are airborne!” I managed to spit out as the words gargled out of my mouth! “Who would have believed this foolhardiness? What a team. Brains, brains and brains!” As I was hanging on for dear life, I managed to lift one knee and felt the fur on my Mukluks and exhaled calmly again. Feeling more composed now that the adrenaline started to fade; I gingerly pulled out a tiny red engraved kazoo I found in the cave that I had forgotten about from under my hat. With both hands now clenching the painful ropes, I moved my mouth closer to my aching hand. Blowing with my red lips pursed around the ancient mouthpiece, I increased my airflow, vibrating air from my lungs by humming into it. As I started my solo, lost, dreaming of Eric Clapton, playing with him on stage as he performed…sighing…hoping no one heard me sigh, as he began to kazoo to San Francisco Bay Blues.

I was abruptly shaken from my fantasy and saw colours blazing all around me and was instantly stopped by what felt like the softness of a net made of moss. As I tilted my hat off my face, I still couldn’t see. Mounds of paper were atop of me. I was buried in blankets of colored sheets strewn all over me. As I intensely and nervously pawed my way to find the light, I saw faces staring down at me. “Lee….Lee….we made it. We found the source….”

Mara's Multi Multi Shelters
Mara - Looking up I had a view of a cluster of happily shrieking and exclaiming climbers. They were quite far up and sailing up along the contour of the mountain side. When bidding a warm goodbye and slightly emotional goodbye to the squirrel abalcabal they handed me a flat packet. While chattering and patting my arms and legs I heard clearly in my mind, "Take these multi multi purpose shelters. Set them up at the Tree of Notes, where you'll find your group."

I nodded, turned to face the incline, and began with slow and steady pace to follow the direction of their giddy ascent.

Lee - "...I do love the drama of your arrival;
I guess it just adds to the lure of Analogue!"
I keep learning nothing happens in a normal way here...Analogue has it's own normal.
"Let's get you untangled and out of the tree top."
They were a mass of red ropes, paper and leaves, not to mention a few indignant monkeys and squirrels that came back to investigate what had interupted their afternoon naps.
I haven't even been up this high myself.
It seems the oldest bits are up here and were put here when the tree was young; that must have been hundreds of years ago by the size of the tree now.

We moved gingerly down the limbs til we were at the roof level of the hut.
There we could easily enter the hut thru the skylight.
As we dropped into the hut one by one , I could see the amazement on the faces of my fellow travelers..
"Well, welcome to the tree hut, I hope the others are close behind but maybe arrive is a little less dramatic way", I laughed as they settled in; still picking bits of leaves and paper from their hair and clothes.
"Once you get your tree legs we can climb down further to where I've set up a campfire and some tea. I think there may even be something stronger in the cupboard over there."

"Oh good", Susan said already at the cupboard pulling out a couple old bottles that looked promising. "Grogg?...ok we'll give it a go."

"It's so nice to have the company of someone not either blue nor green. I'm anxious to hear of where you've been, whilst I've been wandering in and out of time and huts", I said before they started talking all at once.
Hummmm..let the party begin..I thought

January 24, 2011
Mara - The rhythm of walking always brings me peace and joy. I watch my feet, one by one, propelling me upwards. If it's a path I'm following it was made by animals and not by man, which I find comforting.

With each inhale I take in the beauty... and mystery of the mountain, exhaling I am humbled by my good fortune.

I stopped at a brooklet and dropped flat on the earth to scoop some water up to my mouth. The fullness of the moment was interrupted when I spotted it, floating downstream...

January 25, 2011
William -Fortune from near disaster isn't something I'm accustomed to from my previous climbs. The more likely outcome has been a cascade of negative events; at times triggered by only the slightest miscalculation. More often though, disaster has struck from too much calculation...over-calculation. A dangerous overconfidence that the route was correct or that skills were honed sharp enough.

Well, I thought, those hindrances haven't really come into play on this climb.
I idly picked some leaves from my hair and was surprised to realize there were words written on them.

As Susan handed me a mug filled with....well...grog, I paused to look around. Although Lee hadn't expected our arrival, she didn't seem surprised in the least.
"I've been expecting the unexpected", she exclaimed, "everything has been perfectly normal for several hours now."

Looking around I suddenly felt that deja vu feeling creep over me as I began to recognize some items from own studio here in the tree-hut. My old Smith Corona typewriter, a clever yet humble companion that has recorded many adventures sat on a low table. (Although I can't say who had left the half finished note still in the carriage.)

 William Evertson - Message from Smith Corona

William Evertson - 11th Hour Clock
My 11th Hour Clock was tucked into the corner, a manikin I recognized was on a shelf and several of my notebooks lay on a table.

Lee points to the notebooks, "William, I believe those are yours." Suddenly, a small monkey darts from behind her tucks a volume under his arm hops through the window and scampers down the ladder to the ground.

Flabbergasted, I race to the window and look down as he calmly pulls pages out and feeds them to the roaring campfire.
Lee coughs as a huge plume of smoke passes through the room. "Well, I've never seen him do that before", she says.

Mara - About palm sized it spun lazily before catching the little rivulet again. It was alive, that much I could tell, but whether flora or fauna I could not.

At a little backwater it sprang gently up and landed on the sand about three feet in ...front of my face, which was still chin down on the bank.

I froze. Rather boldly it walked nearer and peered at me with it's eyes. The protuberance on top fluttered like fine many layered chiffon. When I blinked, it blinked.

Slowly I pushed up to a more comfortable sitting position at which it said, "Hello, I'm here to guide you the rest of the way. Your friends have already arrived."

"Th - thank you," I stammered softly... "what's your name?"


At that she alighted on my shoulder and settled down, tucking her legs under her and collapsed her top part until it showed just the edges where the speech apparently came from.

"Follow this brooklet up a bit, then we'll turn off, it won't be long."

 Mara Thompson - Sigrún

January 26, 2011
Christopher - Sigrun seemed aquatic in nature, though sitting on my shoulder, I could swear (she?) was swimming. As we made in up a bank (crawling) we hopped over a hill through some bushes to a flower field, she exclaimed "Flower world!". I was sure she was a little, tiny blue deer now.

Confused I asked "Wh-what shape?",
I ment to say what are you, but my brain was foggy.

"I'm which-ever... the one that seems right to you".


"Remember when you born, you we're all wet, then you squiggled like a lizzard, then you hopped, we should climb a tree!".

"No, I don't remeber, but ok, we'll try that".

I started to climb, and Sigrun became a little blue ape, and said "Someday you might even be human".

I started to think.. "What can I do to become human, will this help me to the top?".

Mara  - As Sigrún and I progressed uphill she began to tell me about "The Tail of the Tree" ...

Christopher - "The tail of the tree can only be touched after purification, the tail can be used to form the tail of the craft, which will be incredibly usefull in your travels, as the extent of the journey doubles with each half without it,
This craft has already been formed formed in your minds, and you are already traveling in it, in fact you have already finished your journey,
but this physical form of the craft, which may be a turtle or squirrel if you like, will keep you grounded"

January 29, 2011
Lee - As Bill and I walked down the path to the forest we wondered what else this amazing island had in store for us.
"It seems a new mindbending thing is around every tree here",
Bill said, as he moved easily through the low hanging branches.
I followed, not quite as easily since since the area seemed more dense than I'd expected.
"Toughen up", Bill shouted over his shoulder as he plowed on....
"Ok I'm moving as fast as I can,"  I humphed..
He was in very good shape from all that climbing I'd been working so hard to avoid; that'll teach me.
Suddenly, Bill stopped.
"Shish-shish-easy now---" he whispered, what have we here?"
He'd stopped so abruptly I stumbled over a clump of vines, "Hey watch it", then I looked up.
I could not believe what I was looking at....
'Bill? do YOU see what I see????'

January 30, 2011
William  - Turning to Lee, my head filling with dumbfound, “He’s burning my journals and you haven’t noticed?”
“Well he’s always burning something... but I just never noticed him burning your journals”
I barely heard Lee’s explanation as I raced to the makeshift ladder and began the climb to the ground grabbing the mug of grog from Susan’s hand. Susan wobbled a bit and shouted down after me “Sammmatter width yer…monkey gottcha tongue??” then sat in a fit of self-induced giggles.

I did not care and I did not stop for explanations as I skipped the last three rungs and charged the little critter, who seemed entirely nonplussed at my frantic arrival. In fact he calmly examined another entry, seemed to sigh then ripped the page out and added it to his smoky blaze.

Ria suddenly shouted from the tree house balcony, “William, Think!!! Careful with that grog!”
To late, as I pitched the contents of the mug on the fire which suddenly roared into a small inferno with a sizable poof. In my mad dash to save my journal, I hadn’t realized Susan’s grog was about 100 proof.

I don’t know how I ended up flat on my back but I suddenly realized Lee and the little monkey were helping me up. The monkey seemed to be more upset than I was and kept up a ferocious chatter until Lee quieted him.

“Shush Maku….Our guest is still missing a few of his senses.” Looking at me she said, “What I meant is that he weeds out useless writing…he’s part of the ecology of this Note Tree grove. What I’ve found is that we are very low on the mountain and while we leave provisions, advice and whatever to prepare a camp for climbers to follow, sometimes that advice is…..well, not suited….untested …well, bad advice.

Maku weeds out that bad advice; although so far I’ve only seen him get rid of self-improvement books, diet advice and dime novels that have lost even that value. Maybe in your case he simply picked up the wrong book by accident. He was probably was reaching for that copy of The Prince or Waffles for Dummies.”

Totally unconvinced, I turned Lee toward the little path I had seen just before our “landing”. After a short walk I pushed a few vines from the path and pointed up.

“Goats” I said to her. “Goats in trees. Are they part of the natural ecology too?”
The goats returned our stares for a bit then quietly resumed their munching of the notes pinned to the tree branches.

Susan - I was laughing frenziedly as Lee helped me up from my entanglement. Entangled, ha-ha, I smiled, always a little drama. So many interpretations to that word! Why would this adventure be any different? I was able to dust off most of the scattered debris and paper from my coat but there were a few, randomly glued to me, that I could not pry off! In a daze I followed Lee to the cupboard and grabbed some grog. As I handed out the warmth of the gods to everyone, I took a long guzzle. As the heat penetrated my throat with a rich cinnamon taste, I was reminded of how much I missed my cappuchino fix. I commenced to disengage the notes from me one by one. But, as I forcefully pulled each one, they individually made a unique sound. I jerked in shock and as some of my drink spilled onto my mukluks, a hot steam vapourized around my feet. Phew, that is some potent liquid I thought. I better warn the others. As I returned my focus, I cautiously touched and raised each note again. I stopped abruptly when I perceived something amazing. It must be the grog! No one seemed to hear but me. “RE, MI, DO (SECOND OCTAVE) DO (FIRST OCTAVE) SO”, were the notes I heard! Something vaguely familiar about them.

Wow, they were the same critical tones of the major scale from the movie “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”. What is going on! I scanned around as Bill was giggling and screaming chasing some monkey. It looked like he was playing Tag with the monkey holding a flamethrower. There were ripped papers spewing behind him as he darted around frantically waving his arms. I heard Ria in the background as I plopped down suddenly, exhausted from our flight to the tree. I found my kazoo and as I sat cross legged, started imitating the sounds. All of a sudden, blue lights started pulsating on a wooden swinging globe hanging on a hook in the disheveled room. They glowed as I hummed the note. Bill and Lee were leaving and Ria was staring in my direction pointing to my face. I could not make out clearly what she was saying but as I watched her lips moving, it gave me the impression of “Susan, your hair is lighting up like a Christmas tree!” It made no sense at all to me!

January 30, 201

"The Tail of the Note Tree" as told to Mara by Sigrún

The Note tree is among the Mount Analogue phenomena that non-natives are especially enamored with.

As knowledge is universal and all things are possible, the tree assimilates and produces a variety of "fruit" or "notes".  If you saw through a piece of its dead wood you'll see encased in the rings snippets of letters, numbers, diagrams and the like.  Some of these notes are fully developed and workable, others are not.

The tree is both a shelter and inspiration for climbers.  When and if you reach the Note Tree you must commit to continue on the farther slopes.  If not, you will be immediately escorted back to port.  This was done and is still done on the honor system. 

At this juncture, Sigrún directed me to leave the brooklet and walk uphill.  Switching shoulders, she settled back down and continued.

Long ago a climber came through and rested here.  Now, not only are some of the notes unfinished but some are termas, revealing to specific people at specific times intended as accompaniment for the remainder of the climb.  While clearly some notes cautioned against taking information prematurely he convinced himself that in his case it was different.  This particular climber, we'll call him John, read just enough to jump to conclusions and was quickly led astray by his own lizard brain.  Surreptitiously he hid some notes in his vest and by moon light made his way down the mountain.

The tree and its residents were quite disturbed by his sudden departure.  To keep an eye on things a few sentry notes detached, folded into fliers and tailed him. 

Because of Johns' erratic behavior the towns people shanghaied him one night, put him in a coracle and sent him back to the wide seas.  The notes followed him.

There are many stories of the notes adventures in the world, but for this tale know that eventually John was rounded up and led back to the mountain.  His activities had made him fat and famous, and then hounded and shunned.  He was an unhappy man.  Fleeing first to France he eventually realized that he had to return to the mountain and make amends for taking what would have been his with patience.   The sentry notes had quite a bit to do with his realizations, continually leaving him hints in found shreds at the oddest of times, discoveries of photos of the trek in his jacket pocket and whispering things in his ear.

Feeling newly energized he stocked up his boat and returned to the island.  In return for what he had done he brought a new thing to the island, for the betterment of all.  Instead of weaving cloth only as wide as a man's arm, he brought them the flying shuttle.  For this he was allowed to stay and work the mills, where beautiful brocades are created to this day.  John married and never returned to the continent.

One way or another, all things come to those who wait." 

As Sigrún finished the story as we arrived at the foot of the Note Tree.

January 31, 2011
Mark - I was looking at the map I had drawn of the various huts. I could see a pattern. It was a zig zag very similar to a symbol that Ria was telling me about... or was it Mara? But anyay, there it was. That same zig zag. We had been arguing about whether the numbers of the huts got larger if we went up or down. was it 5-6-7-8 or 8-7-6-5? And where had they started? Which was Hut 1? As it all moved into focus and the quandry was about to be answered, whoever it was I was talking to that day had pulled out this zig zag symbol and it looked strangely familiar, even then, and now here it was reflected in the locations of the huts, as seen from the strange angle from which I had drawn them, just this one time, as if from the inside out. I thumbed hurriedly back through my notebook to try and see if there was anything else relevant as I heard continued commotion outside the tent. As I reached a page with some interesting markings on it that I had jotted in a half-awake state some days before, I noticed the little gold colored ribbon that came with my journal to mark a spot was crinkled on that page. I pulled it from the bottom to straighten it out, even though I had always found those little ribbons to be more of a bother than anything else, giving it a little tug, when all of a sudden a queasy sickly feeling came over not only me but seemingly the entire tent. It appeared to be sliding downward and to the left as if we were spilling off an incline into oblivion when all of a sudden I could see that a dotted line was forming on the page I had been opened to, in the form of a rectangle. Like a perforation that was being ripped along a dotted line, the center of the rectangular page flew up and out of the book followed by the one behind it... then the next and next and so on. The book had turned into a launching pad for rectanglular papers emerging from rectanglar paper "frames" on successive pages that remained bound in the journal, with the whole becoming a kind of shallow bound trough... as the pages, like little unfolded thank-you notes, floated upward toward the roof of the tent just above my head!

 Mark Bloch - One of a Series

When I looked up at the pages, actually the rectangular centers of the various pages of my notebook, I saw not what I had written on them but tiny numbers which had to be fairly miniscule because they were growing larger each time a new one appeared. The first three threw me because they were 0, 1, and 1 respectively. "Some sort of binary code," I proudly thought to myself. But the others that followed-- 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, and 55-- made me reralize they were a Fibonacci series with each one adding up to the one that followed. The book in my hand was growing hollower and hollower as 36 pages in all floated upwards in succession, leaving my hands feeling a strange weightlessness. But why would a mere 36 pages departing feel so freeing? 89, 144, 233, 377, 610. I dropped the book but it seemed to hover in mid air for a moment before it fell to the ground just outside my field of vision. 987, 1597, 2584, 4181. I was reading the numbers seemingly etched in dark brown in the yellowing paper that was forever forever floating upwards creating a cumulative expanding eternity. But wait 6765, 10946, 17711. And then as I knew the page with 17711 ascending would be next, I knew in my gut that was the 23rd page and that something new was about to happen. It was a euphoric feeling of deja vu as my nausea and peculiar disorientation turned to wonder, self-confidence and familiarity. Meanwhile, even though I was in the finite confines of the tent, it seemed like as the pages moved further and further away, so did the boundaries of the tent. At precisely that moment as a page marked 28657 on its underside tore itself from the book and began to rise, out of the corner of my right eye I could see Mara, Ria, Bill and Susan smiling and peeking in at me through the opening of the tent. But wait. The opening of the tent was to my left! That was not the usual opening of the tent at all but another one...? But... but not a tent opening... but ....a cut through time and space in which they stood.... huddling together observing me.... and giggling! As I turned to look at them directly they seemed to disappear. 46368, 75025, 121393. But as I glaced out of peripheral vision they returned, this time with a fifth figure I could not quite make out. As the pages continued to rise 196418, 317811, 514229 I pivoted on my heels unexpectedly and as the roof of the tent began to move further and further away, I felt my body also stretching outward to my left and to the right, to the top and the bottom of the expanding space I occupied as pages 832040, 1346269, and 2178309 floated upward toward what seemed like the heavens. I was expanding out in all directions at once and seemingly so was everything else!

The enclosure I was in, formerly known as my tent, had turned rubbery, pliable and a deep green. Page 3524578 climbed upwards at a severe angle and took its place in a magnificent mother of pearl-like grid that was forming above my head as I contemplated from where that page had come and noticed my physical form had rotated from a up and down oriented human form to a horizontally postioned plane-like membrane that mimicked the matrix above me. Now I could barely make out the number on the page marked 5702887 because the rubberry stretching action had set everything in motion. Then when the 36th page, 9227465 emerged, everything became clear as time both stood still with a lurch and then accelerated to a whizzing roaring silvery white blur. The pages, now in a blue-white starburst 6 by 6 grid pattern multiplied themselves four times, rounded on the corners and yet the rectangular pages continued to emerge from beneath me but now in reverse order. That is how I am able to rememgber them all: because it repeated again and again as my tent, now a beautiful sky dotted with rectangular papers hovering above me at a loooooong but accessible arms length, seemed to undulate and pleasantly rearrange itself in simple geometric patterns.

At this point, all along the edges of the matrix, numbers on the pages seemed to reaching out for their "partners" but none were there and so I knew in my gut it was up to me to take the next step, the very first one that I had taken of my own free will since I tugged the crinkled ribbon only moments ago. I somehow sensed, no....knew.... that if I lifted my arms and legs ever so slightly that the edges of the matrix, which mimicked my every movement, would wrap around themselves. And so I gently abnd effortlessly did and was filled with the most amazing feeling, something like an orgasm but much better because it was happening not just to me but to everything around me. As 0s met 0s and 1s reached out for 1s, so did 2s, 3s, 5s, and 8s as well as 196418s connecting to mirror images of themselves across the panorama closing before me like a giant spiralling cocoon in the shape of a Klein bottle that engulfed everything as far as my eye could see. Was I inside the enclosure or outside or was it... both?

 Mark Bloch - Thirty Seconds Earlier

That was when I realized I had turned into a giant deep blue sphere. I was hollow and filled with wind. I was exploding, in fact, with air pressure, but my physical being was now stable and I felt I could direct myself with the slightest change in thought. I recognized I was floating above the familiar landscape of Mount Analogue and racing upward at breakneck speed leaving the controversial huts 3,4,5,6, and 7 behind toward a giant tree. And I seemed to be pulling something behind me.

February 1, 2011
Cathy - She lay on the ground, looking up as the first flakes began to fall. This was a turn of events she had not counted on, being unprepared for an early winter and dressed only in light clothing. The situation was dire. There had to be a way out of this ravine and it had to happen soon. Too long had she dreamed, in her nest of leaves, of stars, faint voices, the nuptial masses of the resident squirrels, and songs of her forgotten youth.
"Survival, survival, climb out of your stupor!" became her mantra, but the nest was warm and she found herself dreaming again. Was she dreaming or did she float?
Did she rise above the tree line, shaking off leaves of torpor and confusion, did she float beyond reason and doubt?

The vacuum cleaner salesman knocked at the door.

February 5, 2011
Mara - My guide leaped down from her perch to land gently on the forest floor. She motivated over to the tree with a combination of moves l couldn't describe, a skipping sort of top spinning which was a bit dizzying to watch.
She began to climb while commenting rather dryly, "You're at the Note Tree, now find the note that tells you why."

At that I gave her a smile, nod and wave and turned towards the entrance for the climbers. I could smell a campfire and and victuals nearby.

Note to Self ... Baroness Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven 1874 - 1927 Last seen purchasing mountaineering equipment...which included a taillight as a bustle and a bra made of tomato cans. Check food supply.

 William Evertson - Elsa's Bustle

No comments: