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Posts Tagged ‘musings and mud’

10-tree-ff-snowangel-jpg“Faeries? Faeries, where are you??” whispers potter anxiously when she stopped by and realized the faeries haven’t had much to say here.

Whoosh…plop.  On the desk.  With a calculator of sorts.   Well, more like an abacus.  A  bit hard to describe.

“We’re doing a count of mortals who believe and mortals who wish they believed during Christmas!” reports faerie who plopped on the desk. “Gotta fly… it’s looking good. That Tinkerbell movie helped some. Do you realize,” he calls out as he whooshes towards the window, “the magical thoughts people have when they watch something like that? They may not entirely believe but they wish they did.”

And one last blurt out before he’s gone, “will you finish the book? Maybe it could be made into a movie and people will realize there is so much more from the Land of Fae than Tinkerbells and Garden Faeries!”

I’m starting a writer’s group for those wanting to finish their books. I’m participating.

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studio-troll-turdsToday Troll prepared for his infamous additions to the Gatherings of Creative People.  Yes, the Troll Turds.  I’m afraid to announce that I discovered him eating bird’s nests and Angel’s clouds today.

Oh, Troll. What to do with you.  But then, the bird’s are not in their nests on this very very chilly day.  And the angels?  Perhaps they are so close by at Christmas time that, for the moment, they don’t need their clouds.

Certainly angel clouds must play a role in the magic that turns Troll’s turds into the scrumptious delicacies we devour on these special occasions.

And the bird’s nests? Fibre.  Making sure we have plenty to eat.

Oh num num.  I bet the guests can’t wait!

Faeries, want to tell us about the faerie wings now?  No?!  Ya, ya, I know… it’s in the novel.  Publish the novel.   You certainly nag a lot lately.

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Oh my Gom, It’s Christmas time!!!
Just wait til potter gets back and sees what we did to our site! 

See the trees?  Look at the snow!
Oh, the enchantment of Christmas!

People do believe in us at Christmas! 
People let the spirit of Christmas whisper into their souls 
and  the realms open for us to be that much more believable!

ap9e((=-=q, jappo  aoo[apr8989[qm aeiou   
(dancing on the keyboard to the tune of Jingle bells, of course)

We know YOU know this. You’re here after all.
IMAGINE if everybody believed!
Imagine if everyone could believe just a little bit more! 
Imagine faeries dancing in your tree!   
Ya, Imagine.  
That’s a good way to see us! 
There. Do you See?  

Believe Believe, it’s like a faerie soul retrieve!

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Faeries!  I procrastinate.  I never “get to things.” The days putter by.  Sometimes it’s like I’m spinning my wheels.  Help!
                         
Sincerely, wheel spinning do nothinger

~~~~~~~~~~

{“OHHHHHH, LOOK!  498-_)(KEddee;a   Someone found us, again!!  A MORTAL!!  They found us again!” Faeries jump for joy all ove rpqiu4234  all over the keyboard}
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, hello Mortal.. er.. Wheel,

We are here for you, buddy.   Here are definitions of procrastination:
Procrastination 1: not getting around to doing the things you don’t like doing,
Procrastination 2: not getting around to doing the things you like or even LOVE to do.

Soooo, why even bother trying to get to the things you don’t like doing? 
         (“umm, faeries, in the people realm, sometimes people have to do things like pay bills when it’s not a fun thing for them to do.” whispers potter/coach/writer or whatever faeries choose to name Janet on this particular day.   Faeries look at Janet in a “well, there’s a simple answer to that, now isn’t there” kind of way.)

Soooo, why don’t you get someone who likes to do the things you don’t like to do to do it for you?
That solved, now Procrastination 2.  This is much more of a challenge for you people types. Oh, the history of people not letting themselves do what they love is soooo convoluted!!  But here’s a start for your thoughts.  Put this in your thoughts.  Let it simmer.  IF I ALLOW MYSELF TO BE DOING WHAT I LOVE, I WILL MAKE ENOUGH MONEY TO PAY SOMEONE ELSE TO DO THE THINGS I DON’T LOVE.

Now get back to us in 3 sleeps and tell us what you are thinking, oh wondrous Wheel.

Magically, Faeries.

{“I think that’s pretty good, don’t you” one faerie smiles at another. “of course it is. We’re so good.” and off they go to celebrate.  Because faeries are always celebrating. That’s probably why they are faeries and not people.  “Excuse me?  Who said THAT?” potter/janet questions as she looks about the room full of faeries and such.  hmmph. It wasn’t any of them.  Odd.}

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Note: Crashed made these comments in response to the ‘don’t beat yourself up’ article published a couple of posts before this.

Apparently Crashed-on-her-Butt has % d #peoiupdq-81A987 something to say about celebrating:

(I know this because she’s dancing on the keys.)

Crashed-on-her-Butt is a most astounding faerie. *

One day, a rather smashed (but not in the drunk way) faerie showed up on a pot. Later, when the novel began, I learned much more about this unusual faerie – who actually worried about if anyone would like her (having broken her wing and smashed her face and all). That’s so unlike the other faeries I’ve gotten to know who really have no sense of that kind of worry.

As it turned out, though, Crashed’s wish was to better understand people. Sometimes we are such a mystery to them.. they wonder why our people world is so harsh. Squealing train brakes, catching our fingers in doors, worrying about this, stressing over that, going to a job every day and wishing we weren’t.. those sorts of things.

Since wishes do come true, Crash found herself in the people world. But not in the usual faerie way. She happened to arrive in a ‘denser’ form.. crashing smack dab in the middle of the pottery table. Her butt hurt. It took her three days to figure out how to lift her now heavy little body up off the table… all the while the other faeries were cheering her miraculous accomplishment of ‘nearly being people-like’. When she did stand up and try to fly to the pottery wheel.. well, it was good fortune that she landed on the dog, who gave her a ride to where she wanted to be. Crashed was not very happy about all this.

{“Crashed, your story is 25 pages long in the book… too long for a newsletter,” I whisper to her as we type this.

“Okay, okay” she flitters back, “I just want to say something not in the book.”

“You sure you don’t just want to leave this for the novel?” I ask hopefully.

And I receive something somewhat like a scowl in return.

“That’s unfaerie-like” I think to myself.. not that she can’t hear my thoughts anyway. “Okay, what do you want to say?” I ask}

CELEBRATING!! It was all of the other faeries celebrating me, and encouraging me to celebrate, that reminded me that my sore butt was really worth celebrating. I had arrived where few faeries ever get to be! That sore butt was a sure sign. When I remembered that, (because I also discovered that it’s harder to remember things in the people world!) I celebrated my arrival… and my butt wasn’t even sore anymore!”

(“Good point, Crashed” I tell her.

“Thanks,” she answers and then continues qp95[[a erar to dance on the keys.aera8a;eia;’’a )

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So, it seems there is a change in bloggoling events on this site.  Yes, at this moment, the faeries are cheering.  “oh, she finally got it!”  they exclaim, making me smile at their perseverence inspite of me!  Little monkeys.   

so, hello, it’s me. Janet.   To the faeries I am known as potter, aka writer, aka painter, aka coach.

The faeries don’t comprehend our compulsion to name each of us individually.  They are okay with using a term for me… because they discovered it was a challenge for me to get it, if they were referring to me and all I could hear was a wee little musical sound that could not be put on paper.  Unless of course, we referred to me as ‘wee little musical sound”  but then we’d have to refer to them as ‘wee odd little musical sound of sorts.”   And that all gets very confusing.  Just to keep things clear then:  they are faeries. or lately they want to be referred to as realm travellers.  And I am potter, writer, painter or coach.  Yup good and clear now.

Long story behind this whole connection with faerie.  And there is a novel in progress.  And YES, FAERIES, I WILL FINISH IT!!    At this moment faeries are sitting at the edge of my desktop, just above the keyboard, swinging their feet, some looking doubtful.. but only for my benefit.  Those are the ones who’ve hung around for awhile and have picked up some human traits, merely for my entertainment, I think.  

The novel… tells the whole story… quite a bizarre story.  I suspect some of the stories may appear here.  Or not.  Who knows?  I trust whatever the faeries are planning here.  I know they are happy because tonight through a series of events, I’ve learned that the faeries were only doing this coaching blog to get me playing with them in the written area.  Basically to get me to finish the book.   They are particularly fond of the Chapter on Faerie Sex.  And it is perhaps that one that slowed me down.  But yes, we are getting back to it.

But just for now, I’m sharing a story of the mishaps and joyful whatevers.  When I make a pot, I never know what it will be.  I have so many surprises it’s like Christmas.  There  is a chapter called, Whatever, in the book.  I have come to accept that throwing up my arms and saying “whatever” is what opened the door to the faerie realm.  Brats that they were punching holes in my pots and all.  {“Brats?? she’s calling us brats???} With each strange occurrence in the pottery development, comes a story.   Never mind, not going into the whole novel here… but this pot.  This one today.  I don’t know if I’m going to get a sense of it’s story.  It’s a tough one.  While in the Kiln, it had a mishap. Little faerie changed locations.   It will get a story, I’m sure, as soon as I sit with faeries to write it.   But here’s the people side of this little pot’s story so far:

 not dead faerie

“Look, at this, honey”

“oh it’s beautiful, Mom’   I await the response once she looks closer.

“oh, the faerie is dead!”  she exclaims in way that says, “oh my, this is the first ever that i’m not going to encourage her to put it out for sale!”

“hmm, you don’t think she’s doing a triple reverse 360 around the dandelion?”

“no, mom, she looks dead.”

“but faeries don’t die.”

“mom, she looks like she’s dead but her mom is trying to resurrect her.”

(by now we are in hysterics)

“But she’s smiling!”

“she died with a smile on her face, mom”

not-dead-faerie-2.jpg

….I’m still laughing.

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oh dear. i seem to be distracted from some of what i should be doing. now i am doing less than some and more of none. this isn’t good dear faeries. this isn’t good. but then again it isn’t really all bad … because “isn’t good” sometimes is good because doing less than some is sometimes fun.

Shandee

“faeries! faeries!  gather ’round!…. look she’s a faerie!  she thinks like us, she’s little, she’s a faerie!”  We think you are one of those ‘creative’s’ Coach talks about…..  and to be a faerie to boot…. wow, you are so cool.   So in your distractedness, what interesting things have happened?  think hard, even the littlest wee things?  Tell us true, and we’ll get back to you!
ps. Can we convince you to be  a coach with us?

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