I dreamt—marvelous error!—
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.
-Last Night As I Was Sleeping, Antonio Machado
A pause, a whisper, a message from the storyteller, between the coiling adventure
It wasn't so long ago, but long enough for time and seasons to heal an otherwise untouchable wound. Even demi-gods and spirit beings have their vulnerabilities. Skeena and his twin are changelings with the genes of Raven and the sensibilities of a particularly sensitive human being. That story laid itself into medicine for this storyteller, weaving myth and parallel possibilities, and unknown to me a family of adventures would continue from the place of common magic. Banana Skins and Ginger nods at the Mystery that is surely working me on the incubator Island in the middle of the Salish Sea. If I had been born more practical money and stable solutions might be common the need for myth perhaps less potent an option. Perhaps. Pela. Paha. Practicality does thread itself in me, leaving a light in the form of a North Node signature in earthy Taurus. Friends with powerful Taurus natures come and go like Mahina the moon to be the ginger I need on mornings when I'd much rather sleep the day or week in dreaming. With heavy pelting rain sounding on the metal roof my practical nature is comforted: the roof is sure, curved like Earth and does not leak, I have a partner who has practical hands and a funny bone close to his backbone. Beyond that, those in charge of the Mystery make room for my imagination to be healthy, and feed me characters who expand the path for a robust life.
"Last night as I was sleeping, I dreamt--marvelous error!"
Camilia was a swimmer long before she found how much she loved to play with needle and threads, buttons, scraps of ribbon and soft well-worn fabric. The thick velvet robe with deep pockets and generous hood began to slowly and steadily unravel into threads of blue ... the old color of love. With each unfurling motion Camilia spun counter-clockwise creating her personal low pressure system a small and growing storm system. If she tried to control the storm nausea overtook her. Instead she remembered who she really was and rode the wave through.
Her part of the bench formed a vessel, a kind of canoe, ka wa`a?
"No, not ka wa`a, a surfboard a small one," Camilia was having a conversation with herself and found those in charge of the Mystery have a great sense of humor and practicality. In this dream the seamstress was strong and comfortable with deep water. The threads from the long thick robe filled space with ocean and waves leaving just enough fabric for a nicely fitted swim suit. Spiral tattoos on both wrists and ankles, the left spiral on her wrist ended with the shape of the compass rock. A bias cut slender length of soft velvet fell from her neck. From it four small bones dangled: a wishbone, a backbone, a hallow bone, and a funny bone.
"Marvelous!" Camilia had not been on a wave or a board for more than forty years. The feeling was exhilaration a sensation of such joy. Dreams allow for the stretch we too often call a limit, but maybe we have more than one life being lived at once. With dream body memory Camilia pushed into the wave as she lay upon it her left arm held the board her right paddled and guided. The board fit between her legs, Camilia kicked noticing for the first time there was a strap and tether something not yet invented when she was a girl woman on a surfboard.
Surrounded and enfolded with warm salt water the only thing missing was Alex.The four bones dangled from the velvet around her neck, Camilia focused on the wishbone as she tucked all four bones between her breasts, and called, "`Auhea where are you?"
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