perfect day

today is not perfect
i am watching over my kitties and they are not feeling well.
then joanne may sent me this song and it sort of did
something to line me right up. the energy inside.
i think it might be magic. anyone else? ♥

the secret garden vs. the universe

yesterday i listened to peter yearsley read secret chambers and hiding places by allan fea on librivox... and i began to think about hiding. and what is hidden. its human nature to hide. its human nature to want to hide... or need to hide... or to be forced to hide. for fear, for shame, for safety, protection, or for suppression.

and in the chamber, pain whorls around... deep silence and darkness mock your senses. but something else happens. some great undertow takes hold and grows roots... and things that are in secret grow... they grow in a wild way that only unseen things do. like mushrooms or wishes, cup moss or tiny black spiders. they are a universe of magic. they are whole onto them selves. locked away and growing.

i thought about anne frank. living.
i thought about the children coming out of hiding .. up from the ground.. "all eyes like potatoes" like from that jewish poem i dont know the name of. i thought of the priests.. hiding their masses in secret compartments inside of chimneys. communing with a spirit forbidden. hiding books behind panels in closets and practicing alchemy... turning words into gold by a lock and a twisting key.

then i watched this video by hank green
now i am in the garden nursing my whiplash.

oh my bear!

ive just finished my bear sweater.

i figure if i run into any bears in the woods,
i can just point to my sweater and explain
that i am a long time bear supporter.

i might even get some porridge out of it ♥
(i have posted the pattern on my knitting site too)

calke abbey and the old wooden horse

today we went on a day trip to calke abbey.

we climbed moss trees filled with crows.

we had to wait for hours to see the magical manor house.

so we explored all of the groves & gardens first.

when we finally got inside the house it was an eerie and cold magic.

the wealthy eccentric owners built the estate in 1702 and over the years the descendants boarded themselves up in a few rooms and left the rest of the enormous mansion to sleep. for 300 years it has been untouched. everything is still just exactly how it was found after the last resident died in 1980. an abandoned time capsule.

quiet libraries are crammed with thousands of ancient books and delicate maps. fossils and minerals, shells and stones in giant glass tombs in every room. tiger skin rugs, boxes of owls and bunnies, fish and ferrets. birds on strings, needlepoint and chinese silk, pianos and pillows and ancestor portraits sit quietly stacked before fireplaces.

most of the rooms are boarded up and only let in cracks of light.. as you creak through them, little old men stand with flashlights to shine light on the dollhouses, deer heads, writing desks with quill pens and tall candlesticks left behind. there are giant glass cases filled with swans and specimens, big cats and crocodile skulls. teeth and shells and feathers and bones. all labeled in flowery script and frozen in time.

pots, kettles and clocks crumble in the kitchen as if cooks just wandered away. outside, old black carriages with sheepskin seats wait in dark rows to be driven again. there are tiny carriages for children that wait to be hooked to ponies. the stables are hollow and full of horse ghosts. the only real horse is a white wooden rocker that sits in the front hall and keeps his glass eye on you as you spiral up the grand staircase.

this was a little boys room. the bed is tiny. he had hunted all of the animals himself. we saw little wooden plaques with crudely painted letters explaining in which gardens he had found each one. next to his bed a glass cabinet stands filled with bits of wood and bone, spiney sea creatures, shells, antlers, horns and hooves.

once we got inside we were hunting for the old wooden ships we had seen in some of the windows from the outside. the sails were billowing against the glass right before our very eyes. but inside, hard as we tried, we never found a single one.

forest girls

i had a mori girl day. I wore flowers and fluff.
i tacked a wolf tail to my bag. no its not real.

little legwarmers i knitted a long time ago..
maybe i should put up a pattern sometime?
anyway,
then when i was on the bus to kingston, in theme,
i downloaded ♥ girls of the forest ♥ (1902) by L.T. meade
on my iphone. it is the story of 10 girls let free to run in the early
edwardian forest after their mother dies and their father falls into
a book of virgil and forgets he has daughters. i like it so far.
do you want to read it too? i cant vouch for the end yet. *here*
then i went into the studio to record some more snowbird songs.
i am getting very excited about the record finally being close ♥