Tag Archives: collabor88

There is another sky

There is another sky...

There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields –
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!                        …Emily Dickinson

There is another sky...

I love the sweater and skirt from ur favorite one (u.f.o.) for Collabor88. They come in a wide range of colors and have a hint of fall, but are still lightweight and open for summer. Perfect transition clothing for September. That big knit bow is perfection.
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The Light at the End of the Tunnel Is a Train

The Light at the End of the Tunnel Is a Train

I went to Misfit Ghetto last night and saw this sign. It comes from Robert Lowell who said “The light at the end of the tunnel is just the light of an oncoming train.” Robert Lowell has been a favorite since I first discovered him in 7th grade. I was shy, a mumbler, constantly admonished to speak louder and my mother made me join the speech team. She believed in meeting challenges head on. I chose Extemporaneous Poetry as my specialty since I loved poetry and my mom made me memorize a poem a week. I figured I could get two for one out of the way.

The Light at the End of the Tunnel Is a Train

For my first competition I drew “For the Union Dead” by Robert Lowell. The imagery bowled me over and I fell in love with his way of writing, though the poem was not without its problems for my 7th grade self. It used the n-word once, in quotes to indicate that was not a word Lowell would have used. It was a word I had never used and was certainly not acceptable. I had thirty minutes to prepare an introduction and decide how to address this dilemma. I punted and inserted the word soldiers instead. You know, as an adult, I think the person who picked the poems that day probably had not read them.

The Light at the End of the Tunnel Is a Train

But also, from hindsight, I don’t mind, because that poem was thrilling to me. If you have seen the film Glory, you know the story memorialized in the statue he describes. But it was not the story, it was the images from phrases like his nose crawling like a snail on the aquarium glass and the yellow dinosaur steamshovels grunting as they work. Most of the poetry I had read (or my mom had chosen for me) had been prettier. She was a big Longfellow, Shelley and Shakespeare fan. Lowell was my introduction to a more robust kind of poetry. He felt rebellious and fierce and I gobbled him up. And yes, he was also bleak and grim and depressive – perfect for adolescence.
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Sunrise Sunset

You decide.

Gidge is Wearing:
Hair: “”D!va”” Hair “Sienna” (Fatpack) COLLABOR88
Body: -Belleza- Isis
Head: .LeLutka.Mesh Head-ARIA v1.1
Dress: Baiastice_Bia Dress-Short-Ivory-Fitted Mesh
Bed: Cheeky Pea
Bureau: Cheeky Pea
Decor Items: Previous Arcade Rounds

Follow Your Inner Moonlight

Follow your inner moonlight

Allen Ginsberg was asked to share some advice for writers. His advice was simple, to write what you want to say. Don’t stifle your instincts by trying to write for an audience that does not include you. “It’s more important to concentrate on what you want to say to yourself and your friends. Follow your inner moonlight; don’t hide the madness…You say what you want to say when you don’t care who’s listening.” I love that line, “follow your inner moonlight; don’t hide the madness.” Perhaps The Cat was right, “We are all mad here.”

Follow your inner moonlight

A good place to follow your inner moonlight and enjoy your madness is Strings by Cica Ghost. You can dance in the plaza while musicians play lovely instrumentals, explore the oversized homes of the musicians or wander the heath surrounding the homes. I wandered out to the cliffs where weather-whipped trees made stark silhouettes against the sky. I was wearing a projector which is why you can see me.

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One For The Literati

Books are the thing I don’t do enough for myself any more. I used to always be reading something – sometimes more than one something. Now I’m thinking about reading something, but rarely am investing in myself that time. I wish I were, I wish I hadn’t lost that time doing this, that, the other thing. But life gets in the way doesn’t it? Continue reading

Don’t Tell Me the Moon Is Shining

“Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.”

“Don’t tell me the moon is shining, show me the glint of light on broken glass,” is great advice for writers. It is attributed to Anton Chekhov who did write something pretty close to that. It remains good advice whether it is apocryphal or not.  It basically tells writers to show, don’t tell. Of course, some writers go overboard and describe every single thing in such detail that they have left themselves no room for emotional honesty or plot, but in general, as a reader, I prefer showing to telling.  It’s much easier with a picture, though, and in this one you can see the glint of moonlight on the waves.

“Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” Chekhov

Of course, what you really want is the perfect blend of show and tell. You don’t want authors telling you what every person is thinking, you want them to trust you to figure it out from their actions and their words. Writers who tell too much insult our intelligence, assuming we cannot get the point without it being spelled out. Fashion blogs often just show, with pictures and very little else. I like to add a bit of telling to explain things like why I fell in love with the Moon Lounge from {anc} at The Arcade. No one loves props more than bloggers and I was afraid I would spend a fortune trying to get it from the gacha machine, but I got it on the first pull.
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Your Mission Should You Choose to Accept It

Your Mission, should you decide to accept it....Your mission, should you choose to accept it, it to infiltrate The Arcade and capture one of the Tentacio synths and bring it back for study. The stasis net will come down at midnight, allowing the most intrepid and lucky to teleport into the complex. There will be many distractions, doing their best to draw you away from your assigned task. Do not waver.Your Mission, should you decide to accept it....

Initial reports from our reconnaissance missions are available disguised as a shopping guide. Do not be fooled by its benign appearance, it is produced at considerable risk by deep cover operatives working within the system.
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The Mystic Blue

all the manifold blue and joyous eyes

Out of the darkness, fretted sometimes in its sleeping,
Jets of sparks in fountains of blue come leaping
To sight, revealing a secret, numberless secrets keeping.

Sometimes the darkness trapped within a wheel
Runs into speed like a dream, the blue of the steel
Showing the rocking darkness now a-reel.  

And out of the invisible, streams of bright blue drops
Rain from the showery heavens, and bright blue crops
Surge from the under-dark to their ladder-tops.

And all the manifold blue and joyous eyes,
The rainbow arching over in the skies,  
New sparks of wonder opening in surprise.  

All these pure things come foam and spray of the sea  
Of Darkness abundant, which shaken mysteriously,  
Breaks into dazzle of living, as dolphins that leap from the sea
Of midnight shake it to fire, so the secret of death we see.

…D.H. Lawrence

all the manifold blue and joyous eyes

Who does not love the brisk fresh air of the seaside, the glittering waves that sparkle and catch the sunlight, scattering miniature sun sparks across the landscape. How lovely, then, that Ariskea made a floating bed for us water lovers to cast off and float away, dreaming of happy things in the sunshine and listening to the steady rhythm of the waves. Ariskea also released lotus flowers which technically prefer still fresh water, but Second Life habitats are more forgiving.

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I have loved the stars too dearly

I've Loved the Stars Too Fondly

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

Most of us have an atavistic fear of the dark. It makes sense, many animals hunt at night. While we may hunt by day, at night we are the prey. I have always loved the dark, though. During the day, the lake I grew up on would be busy with people fishing and waterskiing. I have had more than one daytime close call with a speed boat driven by reckless people who never think to look for swimmers. I loved to swim in lake at night when the boats were silenced and sleeping, put to bed for fear of being run aground in the narrow lanes between the islands. While there might be a few hundred people on the lake during the day, at night I was often the only one. Of course, it was never quiet. There were the frogs, crickets, owls, timber wolves and best of all, the loons, all competing for lead vocals in the nightly concert.

We were in the country so the moon and stars reflected and refracted in the waves. I would swim toward the ribbon of moonlight even knowing I could never catch it. I suppose it was my own brand of recklessness, swimming alone for hours among the stars, but it was magical, too. Sometimes I pulled out my canoe and paddled so i was lined up with the moon’s reflection and then jumped in, diving down to the touch the bottom of the lake which never got much deeper than forty feet. I liked the deep water where the lake bottom was made of marl rather than muck or clay. Something about swimming in utter blackness captivated me and I never felt afraid.

I've Loved the Stars Too Fondly

I miss living by the lake and going swimming. Lakes in Oregon are glacier fed and not really suitable for swimming. That has not stopped me, but in water that cold, you can’t laze about in the water and drift. You can’t lay back and let yourself sink into the inky water and pretend you are floating among the stars.

Of course, standing on Kalopsia’s broken floor is not exactly sinking into inky depths either, and I am standing, now swimming, but I am eagerly waiting for sun to set and for the evening chorus to begin. I am with cranes instead of loons and they are paper (from DDD for Collabor88), so they will be unaccountably quiet. If they could speak, however, they would rave about my adorable dress from ur.favorite.one (u.f.o.) that is at Collabor88 this month.
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