"The White Rabbit" – May 21, 2008

2008-5-21

The Books of Fae

2008-5-21 – "The White Rabbit"

"…I take sanctuary at the home of one of the pirates in the city of Vancouver for a time, there to explore the workings of Whim more clearly.  In the process I meet a White Rabbit who initiates me into the aka of music  …"

Honoring the Gunslinger

It really bothered me.  I felt I had given in to the pressure of vibrations from the ogre.  That I had betrayed the peace and mystery given to the aspect of Roland which played out in my story.  I felt I had let down Roland himself, and found myself weaving a magic to free him, at least the aspect that played out in my worlds, with my own powers of Story … creating a pocket world for him to exist within in the fictal realms …

I felt deep resonance with the Gunslinger and the service to the Dark Tower, with King's works being a deep inspiration for me on the quest.  Over the years, i'd seen how my own journeys across the verses of the Creation were connected to the stories, that I was somehow living in the mythos that had inspired me as a childe in a gradient of shifting realities ….

There was a connection there., the Tower, the Gunslinger, Jack and the Territories and my own story.  I felt us connected, part of a weave far larger than what appeared as the worlds of publishing and personality, which spoke to the echoe sof Ages gone past and yet to come within the world as we knew it today, reminding me of when the first seeds of it's idea surfaced in my life during "Squire of Stories" ….

My Fae nature demanded a certain style of entry. I had to cast the thing. To stand up there, creating vocals and an attempted melody at the same time. It was the only spell that I could hold onto.

As I had done with Zatanna years ago I felt myself as a force within Roland's reality, an entity of a higher density and dimensionality, able to shift the lightness of his realm at will.

"I felt that had betrayed Roland.  That I had dispersed the energies that gave him freedom from his narrative by listening to the oaf.  I felt as though I had denied him the reward of the Grey Havens that he'd gained through my letting of the series within the King's narrative."

"What did you do?"

"I used the power i'd gathered to forge him another story.  One where he was liberated from the repetitions of his karma in the sands of time, doomed to follow the man in black forever."

2008-5-28

The White Rabbit

Here, Don arrived, in which I saw his silver mane as that of the friendly Rabbit, aiding me in the transformation into another state of being. My Heart opened to him then, as I saw the nobility, the bright character that defined who he was and the subtle service he provided for the people.

The tuft on white hair upon his head and his kindness reminds me of the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, pairing nicely with the symbol behind him reminiscent of the gallery window in the sanctum of Dr. Strange …

My Fae nature demanded a certain style of entry. I had to cast the thing. To stand up there, creating vocals and an attempted melody at the same time. It was the only spell that I could hold onto.

Avoiding the Ogre

I did not see him all throughout the weekend! In this I wondered, did I clear the pattern of conflict and violence, by not using my hands for such things so that I moved into a reality where there was harmony? It seemed so.

Journey to Valhalla

I had no idea the construction had been going on.  And, I realized, I didn’t need to.  My resonance with the faery realms brought me into an alcove outside of the range of the shifting and moving in the RV park.  Here, once again, I saw how my position, where I ended up in space and in time, revealed the landscape of my legend.

Once again I take the ferry, bringing my world with me across the sacred waters.  Having made the decision to head towards the Valhalla Mountains and the company of the Mythmaker, I leave the holt of the northern elves behind and set my sights forward – wondering what adventures lay ahead.

Tending Calliope

As I continue driving onwards, i’m embarrassed at the way I acted.  At the rage that overcame me and the way I spoke to the kind people who helped me.

Once again I see the symbol of Love, appearing in a dusty bin and consider, shall I ever find Love? Shall I ever experience what it means to feel this thing with a partner? To end the anger?

Characters

Don Schiff

North