Tuesday, September 25, 2012

elusive faeries

an offering to a faery

This morning Brian Short posted an essay about Faeries and the number 1234. His post is titled Faery Talk. This is well worth reading. For me, it articulated the challenges of these elusive experiences, and the difficulty of truly trusting them. I think Brian and I share something (what it is, I don't know), and it is continually forcing me to reexamine my definition of reality.

Here's a short excerpt from Brian's post:
I’d been asking the spirit to show me what she looks like. I guess asking a shape-shifter what it looks like is just walking straight into it; but since this seems a retroactive sort of joke, unhinged from any sequence of normal chronology… it just makes the joke that much more funny.
He makes a few references to my blog, especially this post: Can you find the fairy? I need to add that this essay was sort of a bottomless pit of odd coincidences, everything about it seemed to point someplace else. His post also includes Anya Briggs, and a synchronistic appearance of the number 1234, things I write about often.

a pixie face from a forest in Canada


BrianCShort said...

I wouldn't presume to say what these events finally mean, or if any one sort of meaning is indicated, but I wonder that something plays with us for taking the trouble to notice that it's there. Is it somebody in a weird "place", or another level of our own minds, that seems to weave circumstances together, indicating meaning? Like because we begin to see another level of the meta-structure, or determine that some thing must be significant, the structure pings back at us with these number-thingies, as if to say, "Yep. And...?" But maybe it's us that gives it the impression of meaning? Urg. I think I just broke my own brain.

Parroting_Puppet said...

made me think about The Magnetic Fields - I've Run Away To Join The Fairies can be found on yt

Peter of Lone Tree said...

On his 74th birthday, a man got a gift certificate from his wife. The certificate paid for a visit to a medicine man living on a
nearby reservation who was rumored to have a wonderful cure for erectile dysfunction. After being persuaded, he drove to the reservation, handed his ticket
to the medicine man, and wondered what he was in for.

The old man handed a potion to him, and with a grip on his shoulder, warned, 'This is a powerful medicine. You take only a teaspoonful, and then say
'1-2-3.' When you do, you will become more manly than you have ever been in your life, and you can perform as long as you want."

The man was encouraged. As he walked away, he turned and asked, "How do I stop the medicine from working?"
"Your partner must say '1-2-3-4,'" he responded, "but when she does, the medicine will not work again until the next full moon."

He was very eager to see if it worked so he went home, showered, shaved, took a spoonful of the medicine, and then invited his wife to join him in the bedroom.
When she came in, he took off his clothes and said, "1-2-3!" Immediately, he was the manliest of men.

His wife was excited and began throwing off her clothes, and then she asked, "What was the 1-2-3 for?"

And that, boys and girls, is why we should never end our sentences with a preposition, because we could end up with a dangling participle.