Lemurian City of Ladies

A Lemurian City Built in Memory of Christine de Pizan

Posts Tagged ‘City of Ladies

Unearthed Fragments – Orlando’s Finds

with 8 comments

Well, it’s been a very long while since Imogen checked back to see how Orlando non Furioso is doing with his excavations!  He has been busy, and digging in the sun has been bringing up some treasures.  Fragments are interesting, because they are and always will be parts of a whole, waiting for validation.  Fragments are also curiously beguiling for the same reason, as they make you want to contemplate the whole, which is probably what Orlando has been doing for so long, digging in the sunny yard at the Villa in the City of Ladies.  He is pleased to find remnants of a soap dish which sat atop what appears to be an antique shaving cup, with lovely gold and blue dots around the rim, and holes for the soap water to drain away.  He has found the remains of a tea set he and his grandmother used to use when he was a child, the remains of a dinner plate in a lovely soft green, a tea cup shard with a rose on it his mother had, and a plate he had as a child with a blue horse on it.  Not sure about the shard of thick glass, possibly from a very expensive window from another era, or perhaps part of a window for future looking into?

There have also been many patterns of flat decorative glass found, in fragments, looking almost like pieces of sugar toffee, or licorice, from old windows of long ago, that no longer need looking through.  They make good art, and Baba especially liked them…of course Imogen will see what else he found, once he sorts these treasures.

word and image copyright imogen crest 2012

images – fragments, reclaimed shards.

Written by imogen88

June 8, 2012 at 1:14 pm

Bay Laurel Walking

with 9 comments

 

Gaia was calling,

walking to the Mouseion,

telling the tale of Apollo and Daphne –

the same way the sun chased the moon.

The Bay Laurel whispered in the

warm breeze, of salt and sea

and wild lavender and olive hills, –

– as the books in the

Mouseion spoke the

tale, ancient of myth and song.

(copyright Imogen Crest 2008.)

Written by imogen88

July 8, 2008 at 10:40 am

Closed for Lunch

with 10 comments

The sign said “Closed for Lunch”,

and stopping at the iron grilled gate leading

down to the Catacombs in the City of Ladies,

brought a sigh.

There was another sigh from the shadows…

“Why are you here again?  Your mother has been

looking for you.”

The shadow near the gate rippled with a gesture of

agitation.

“I don’t know.  I am listening to the stories, on my walking

tour with the other travellers…”

“We have your itinerary, and it all checks out.  We’re closed for

lunch, and there’s no need to go back in.”

The sun beamed off the white buildings of the City

and I stepped out of the shadows of the gate which

led downward.

A raven flew down and squawked, with a note in its beak

for me.  It read:

“Seven black seeds and a pomegranate.  Paid in full.”

I looked up from the note to the shadow, which

had gone quiet in reserve.

This sense of reserve seemed to translate into the

solution to a puzzle, as if a final word in a crossword

or similar mind game, within.

It was like a settling, something had settled.

“You know all you need to know,” said the shadow.

“I admit I have been coming here for months, in one way or

another.  It’s good to see the pomegranate…”

My mother was calling me, wanting me to

go to the Mouseion, to gather more wisdom and

apply it, it was right to suppose.

Surrendering the dark cloak, now dusty and dry

with age, I walked away from the Catacombs,

following the map to the Mouseion.

The shadow by the gate receded.

(copyright Imogen Crest 2008.)

 

Written by imogen88

June 25, 2008 at 1:39 pm

once upon a time…

with 6 comments

It was cold and dark in the catacombs, quiet except for my own footsteps and the skittering of small creatures across the rough stone below. The walls were slightly damp, the smell of must strong. As I walked further into the shadows, cobwebs snagged at my face and I pulled them off. I looked down and saw the remains of what might have been an ancient mosaic floor. Black, red, and white tiles made up a design, but it was hard to tell what the picture might have been.

I did not like it here and wondered what Enchanteur expected me to find. What is this place? I whispered.

“It is the Slush Pile, where rejected stories go to die,” said a small voice.

“Who – who are you?”

“I am a were-pen. See the shining point of light on that wall? That’s me.”

“You can speak?”

“I am a voice in your head, but you are not mad. It’s a Lemurian magic. Call it your inner voice, the writer within, seeking expression.”

“I knew writers were crazy; this confirms it,” I admitted. “But we’re mostly harmless. So if I have a talking were-pen as my guide, I guess that’s OK.”

The were pen bobbed in agreement. “It is a deep, dark magic, like bibbety-bobbity-boo. Toss some basil in the air, and presto-chango, we can advance the plot!”

It made a funny, clicky noise. I didn’t know were-pens could snicker. “You’re kind of sarcastic, aren’t you?”

“I am *your* inner voice, afterall.” The pen top clicked mischievously and I swear the were-pen was winking at me. “Call me 86.”

“Let’s recap, 86. I am talking to a were-pen in the dead stories file. So the contents of these catacombs are what, unpublished stories?”

“Not even that. They are half-finished stories. Plots that twisted and turned up their toes too early. Characters only half fleshed out. Mummified mixed metaphors. Paragraphs piled up like bodies for the charnel house. Adjectives tossed overboard. Ransacked rhymes. Transitions that never made it from one paragraph to the next. Half-done hooks. Wasted words. These are the stories of the damned, that have no voices, until a writer tells them.”

“I thought this was a ladies’ literary walking tour. Where’s Enchanteur? What does this creepy place have to do with me?

The were pen swung above my head like an inky sword of Damocles. “Once upon a time…”

By Kerry Vincent © 2008

Written by kvwordsmith

June 17, 2008 at 8:33 pm

Time Spent with the Dame

with 9 comments

Seasons come and seasons go,

Nature’s song,

wheeling cosmically,

unrelenting,

time spent with the Dame

washes a lot,

(with her humming song),

of the past away.

To greet Imogen and Orlando,

anew,

free of travel disarray and dirt,

to occupy new places,

is surprising –

to say the least.

(copyright Imogen Crest 2008.)

Bath House Moment

with 6 comments

EnchanteurBath

E caught at Dame Washalot’s Bath-house
Enjoying a quiet contemplative moment.

Heather Blakey June 16th 2008

Written by Heather Blakey

June 16, 2008 at 12:40 pm

Receiving Ladies

with 9 comments

EnchanteurCityofLadies

Enchanteur is receiving ladies who have a unique voice and special projects that will enhance the aims of this ancient Lemurian City.

Heather Blakey June 14 08

Written by Heather Blakey

June 14, 2008 at 7:55 am