Tag Archives: stories

Romance in the Gallery, Enticement in the Library

 

“Treat a work of art like a prince: let it speak to you first.”
― Arthur Schopenhauer

 

Two of my favourite activities are walking through libraries and walking through art galleries. I listen carefully with my eyes and with my being and I hear stories… Pictures where every emotion is on display captured in the moment that tells you what came before and what comes next. The eyes on some of the paintings can tell you volumes and will if you are open to it. They may be royalty yet if so they are equitable, not caring so much about whether you match up but whether you see. Abstracts in their dance of colour and design are raw form and emotion and can help us connect to our own internal rawness if we but let them.
A library is much the same but somehow more solemn. Oh most art galleries dress it up better but books go the extra mile. Art asks us to look and understand. Books need that extra effort, they need us to open them and turn pages. They sell themselves to us first with cover and title and then each page has to reach out and connect with us enough that we turn page after page, squeezing the juice out of the writing. I walk through libraries and hear the voices of old friends and strangers wanting to make my acquaintanceship. They wish me to take them home so they can show me a good time.
Perhaps in retrospect the difference between the two experiences is the difference between a romance and a hook up tho of course one can always lead easily to the other.
Blessings, G

 

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Shadow Quest2Shadow Quest by G A Rosenberg

 

Tropical Wind FlowerTropical Wind Flower by G A Rosenberg

Finding the Story and Bringing it Home

 

“It’s a funny thing about stories. It doesn’t feel like you make them up, more like you find them. You type and type and you know you haven’t got it yet, because somewhere out there, there’s that perfect thing — the unexpected ending that was always going to happen. That place you’ve always been heading for, but never expected to go.”
— The Doctor (Steven Moffat)

 

I went searching for my story. It seemed everyone else had one but mine had little plot and less action. I’ve had adventures but is it truly a story? Does the plot hang together? Are the characters believable? The one thing I can tell you from first hand experience is to doubt the reliability of the narrator. But that’s ok he doubts himself at times.
That being said tho it seems that my story does improve as I go, the setbacks seeming more minor, the everyday brighter and brighter.I know there’s quite a bit of story before I come to the end of my page.
Blessings, G

 

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BenedictusBenedictus by G A Rosenberg

 

FocusedFocused by G A Rosenberg

Of Stories Told and Untold….

“The unread story is not a story; it is little black marks on wood pulp. The reader, reading it, makes it live: a live thing, a story.”
― Ursula K. Le Guin

 

If a story exists but is not communicated does it still hold meaning? Each of us live our stories every day and yet if there is no expression of self in our lives, no way in which we communicate our story than what meaning is gained by it? To me, each tale I hear communicated, each life in which I somehow share whether by talking with people or experiencing their art, music, writing enriches not only me but spreads out in ripples with everything I share. For to experience someone else’s story is to make it part of our own story and part of our being. This in turn even if it is not on a conscious level gets communicated by me in my own art, writing and speech. Perhaps it will only be a turn of phrase, perhaps a colouration of mood yet my expression becomes touched by everything that has touched me. We live in a web of interconnection. With the internet our stories become spread even wider and more pervasive to the point that we tangentially touch almost every other story in the world.If we have but the perspective to appreciate it.
Blessings, G

 

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By the Moon's LightMoonlit by G A Rosenberg

 

FirefallFirefall by G A Rosenberg

The Essence of Caring

“The best storytellers are irredeemably mad, driven by a desire to express something that will actually make the world give a damn. As if the world cared! Such perversity lies beyond the understanding of most of us – of those not so enamoured with the creation of stories that there can be no thought of doing anything else.”

– Billy Marshall Stoneking

 

In a world where the key word so often seems to be apathy, what do you care about? Do you care about tragedies that touch your life peripherally? Does it  matter more that three people died in the city where you live or that 20 children were killed with money from your government? Do you care about how a particular tragedy went down or do you care about what in society is causing these tragedies in the first place? What is the story that is taking place? What are its themes? Are you stuck in details and missing essence? It’s so easy to get blindsided by fear or outrage especially when the media promotes these emotions. Listening to all sides arguing I hear a lot of what used to be called FUD (Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt). The fact remains people were killed and many were injured. Other people acted heroically according to the best of their natures.
We may never know what caused it yet it is strange, we live in a world where there are probably less acts of violence per year than at almost any other time. There is correspondingly more publicity and a lot more fear mongering when it happens. What in modern society seems to be encouraging people to think that the best way to make a statement is through violent means. There are specific questions in any given situation that most people will never hear the answer to.  There are more important general questions about the real causes that desperately call out for asking.
Blessings, G

 

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Energy ProjectionEnergy Projection by G A Rosenberg

 

CuriosityCuriosity by G A Rosenberg

Quote of the Day – February 22 2013

“The child intuitively comprehends that although these stories are unreal, they are not untrue …”
― Bruno Bettelheim

 

Spend enough time on the internet and you hear lots of stories. People share their stories and you begin to gain a sense of mythology. Some of us are the heroes of our tales. Some insist they are the victims. Some tell stories that have no heart because they have lost theirs long ago. If you listen carefully enough, you can gain a sense of the truths behind the stories you hear and which the rationales that are woven to cover our truths out of fear. Of course to do this, we have to face our own truths first not an easy task. Perhaps that’s why children can sense the truth so easily . Most of them have yet to weave falsehoods made out of fear and concerns on how they’ll be perceived.
Blessings, G

 

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BlessingsBlessings of the Priestess by G A Rosenberg

 

Spider's Web MandalaSpider’s Web Mandala by G A Rosenberg

Quote of the Day – February 10 2013

“Always ask yourself, why does this story matter? Ask and keep asking. And be as frank in your answer as all your courage will allow. When it comes to storytelling, life’s too short to waste it on stories that don’t matter.”
– Billy Marshall Stoneking.

 

I read the above and I feel a bit humbled. In my writing, I try to make what I say to people relevant. When I write of my past, I choose not only the stories I need to tell but the ones that I hope are meaningful, that matter. I know that a story that matters has life beyond the storyteller and in truth matters more than a storyteller ever can. Do I succeed? I don’t know. I’d rather stay unsure as overconfidence much like in parenting too often means failure.
Blessings, G

 

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Crystal Works

Crystal Works by G A Rosenberg

 

Jellyfish OrgyJelly Fission by G A Rosenberg

Quote of the Day – January 18 2013

“If you keep telling the same sad small story, you will keep living the same sad small life”
–Jean Houston

 

Time to expand our stories. Let’s change it up so that we become the victors rather than victims and that we win out rather than lose. Once upon a time our stories kept us down. We talked about what oppressed  us and how we could never be free. Then one magickal morning we awoke and our thoughts were changed. We found that we could transform. Every thought beckoned us towards freedom and doors that were shut started to open. Nothing could oppress us without our permission and from that point on we withheld it. People could do what they would but we would not be victims. We became empowered and reborn and live each day to the fullest.
Blessings, G

 

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Flames of red and gold
Red – Gold Flame Mandala by G A Rosenberg

 

Consorts in the Chamber of the Flame Crystal
Consorts in the Chamber of the Flame Crystal by G A Rosenberg

Quote of the Day – January 16 2013

“If you are a dreamer come in
If you are a dreamer a wisher a liar
A hoper a pray-er a magic-bean-buyer
If youre a pretender come sit by my fire
For we have some flax golden tales to spin
Come in!
Come in!”
― Shel Silverstein

 

What tales shale we share tonight? Hitchhiking tales from the road? A story about raising children? Improbable stories of things that may have happened to beings that may have existed, or possibly only in my mind? Come in and tell me about your dream life, the one you would live if everything you wanted came true or perhaps your favourite nightmare creature that you carry around with you whenever your sleep has gotten too deep? I live for your tales and your dreams and I wish to give you this power, to dream stronger and to make the dream come true. After all, didn’t most of us get our start in dreams?
Blessings, G

 

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What Goes On Behind the Eyes

 

Behind His Eyes by G A Rosenberg
Construction
Construction by G A Rosenberg

Quote of the Day – November 4 2012

“Everybody is special. Everybody. Everybody is a hero, a lover, a fool, a villain. Everybody. Everybody has their story to tell.”
― Alan Moore

Perhaps some of us tell our stories by living them.. Others by pantomime or satire. Perhaps everything we say or do becomes our story even in the smallest of chapters, the map that comes the closes to being the territory yet never quite reaches it. After all I feel pretty sure by this point that what and whom i am goes well beyond this life. This life yet one story within a far greater volume. A story I gladly tell even if Shakespeare’s Macbeth is right that it is told by an idiot and in the end has little meaning. Nah, I put greater credence into stories than that. Each one has some meaning if only that it is a snowflake, unique and beautiful.
Blessings, G

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Trump XX -Judgement by G A Rosenberg

 

Mandala of the Wands by G A Rosenberg

Quote of the Day – October 9 2012

“There’s stories and then there’s stories. The ones with any worth change your life forever, perhaps only in a small way, but once you’ve heard them, they are forever a part of you. You nurture them and pass them on, and the giving only makes you feel better. The others are just words on a page.”
― Charles de Lint

 

What story has changed your life? What tale has crawled inside your psyche and set a permanent groove so that you would never look at anything quite the same way again?

I met her on the bridge that night. To tell the truth, I had gone there to consider jumping. My life was rather a mess at the time. I was seventeen taking summer classes at the University next door to my High School to make up for the ones that I had missed during the year. I had taken off from school for five months and joined a religious cult. For that five months, I tried to alter my being, change it into the perfect church member only to find it impossible. Too many things made no sense and contradicted their own sources. One of the final straws was when I saw beer in the refrigerator of the church head in California and realize that he didn’t live up to his own philosophy.  I left only to find that I could not go back to looking at life the same way I had before. I was badly in need of a new paradigm tho I couldn’t put that into words at the time. My family didn’t understand. They thought I should feel guilty for leaving home and joining the cult. I felt cheated and alone and had no idea what to believe. The universe made less sense than ever.

We agreed that my staying in the University dorms for the summer rather than accompanying my family to their beach house was a good idea for all. I would have time to think and pray and try to put the pieces together (and make up for lost school time). They would have peace. I went more than a little crazy and self-destructive. Thus I ended up at the bridge staring into the water wondering if I had the courage.

“I love to see the moon reflecting on the water.” I turned and looked and there was a girl there. A few years older than me.

Yes, it’s nice.” I muttered.

“The water’s cold tho, even tho it’s summer.”

“I wasn’t going to… I mean I’m not going to…” 

“Maybe not, but you can’t convince me you haven’t been considering it.”

What would you know about it?”

“I’ve been there. I’ve worn that look you have on your face. Oh I didn’t jump either”

“Why would you want to do that? “

“The same reason as you. Too many thoughts and questions crowding my mind and more pain than I wanted to deal with. I was dating this guy and he was great, handsome and smart and controlling as hell. I let him tell me what music to like, how to dress and even what classes to take. We were together for four years and when i became the embodiment of everything he wanted me to be, he got arrested. After a month without him I realized that he didn’t want to be with me but with an ideal and the ideal was someone else. Someone on reflection whom I had no interest in being”

“It’s not the same!”

“No it never is. Yet it brought me here just as whatever you’re going through brought you. “

I told her the details. She just listened and then smiled.

You know what stopped me from jumping and removed the temptation?”

“What?” I might have said the word louder than I intended.

“Well, my life has always been so strange and so difficult to predict and so wonderful and horrible that I realized at heart I am too curious to see what comes next to ever end it willingly”

“Wow” 

“You know this already but you’ve forgotten it.”

Maybe I have.”.

We continued to talk about books, movies, music, philosophy and everything under the moon to find we had a great deal in common. We watched the sunrise hand in hand like children. I asked her if I could see her again. She looked a little sad.

“Actually, I came down to the bridge tonight to say goodbye to the view. Tonight I’m heading to England to study for a year. Tonight has always been fantastic tho. Thank you.” She kissed me and left not dramatically but wonderfully.

I sat there for a few more minutes wondering if I had been talking to some kind of angel. I never saw her again but I never forgot her magick or her story.

Blessings, G

 

 

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Alien Mage by G A Rosenberg

 

Blue Gold Sun Mandala by G A Rosenberg