Lemurian City of Ladies

A Lemurian City Built in Memory of Christine de Pizan

Archive for the ‘Curiosity Shop’ Category

Anita Marie’s Letter Home

with 10 comments

To My Dear Friends Back Home

I know you wonder what I’ve been doing since I left for the City of Ladies weeks and weeks ago


so far:


I’ve spent my days



and many a dark night

 wandering through the City of Ladies.


I’ve been in the Catacombs


of course.


 I think I was alone


I’ve even been to the Circus

where I learned a thing or two.





mostly one…



I’ve haunted bookshops and curiosity shops and art galleries sat in a Tavern and listened

to stories

and drank wine and nibbled on cheeses from

places with names I can’t pronounce

and I’ve even worn my hair up


dressed in gowns made from silk


from Pirate Ships



by candlelight while music was

played on harps and songs were sung by women named

Felicia, Prisicilla and Carlotta.


I must say though

that something is missing.

That something that makes the days just days and the nights only nights

and the grand sights I’ve seen

merely pictures that my eyes capture and store in my mind

just like

neatly lined photographs


a photo album that gets placed in a linen closet

or lost under a pile of


high on a shelf

gathering dust

in the dark



I wonder

what that missing thing could be…

 Oh yea.


That’s it.

What can I say?

There are

Songs to be sung and all that fun stuff!

More Later!

Love from


Written by Anita Marie

July 3, 2008 at 3:06 pm

Her Eyes Are Wrong

with 12 comments

Here’s a strange little item


a strange little tale

that you can find in one of the many Curiosity Shops

lost in the backstreets of the

Lumerian City of Ladies


The picture is in a gold frame and

and it is hanging in a basement in a little room with a coal shoot door that won’t stay nailed shut where I used to play as a child.

One year I pulled the picture down, turned it over and saw written on the back in dark red ink:

“Her eyes are wrong- and it’s to late to change them now “

I turned the picture so that it faced the wall.

But the words scared me more then the photograph itself

so I turned it back around

and I never looked into the eyes in that picture again.

But it didn’t matter.

Because those eyes, those wrong eyes, saw me.

I know it.

And I know that they still do.


by a.m. moscoso

Written by Anita Marie

June 30, 2008 at 2:57 pm