GT To The MAx

I have noted that faucon in far off Lemuria has made note of Edwin Arnold, whose whole life might be considered a 19th century Grand Tour.  Many people dream of being presented before a ruling monarch and receiving that land’s highest civilian honor.  Not only did he achieve this in England, his home nation, but also the highest awards from the Kings (or equivalent) from Turkey, India, Siam and Japan during his lifetime of travel and service.  No other person of record has more than three — and never shall!

Trigor

Tiny Froglet hops over the Straight of Dover

I’m crossing the Straight of Dover today.  Or the Straight of Calais.  Depends on one’s perspective, right?  I’m wondering why, of all companions I could have had, I chose Annika.  After all, there aren’t hummingbirds in Europe.  Who knows–maybe she just wanted to come along for the ride.

(more at http://mosaicheart.wordpress.com/)

Of Tegsh and All

WITHIN THE CRACKS OF STONE AND SONG

 

I pause a bit in place and time – neither Trigor not The Duuran, or simple man-self at all; and ponder on the give and take – the ‘faire trade’ of this market place of Tour Grand.  I read the postings of you who travel here, ands those who stayed away; amused by some of the information you present, bemused my the confusion often born of child-like excitement, and pre-lamentive of wisdom’s sorrow – that each of you will get from your journey more than you expect, and less than you hope (or the other way around).  For you should know the “Duuran” is also part of an ancient process of divination.

 

In the 13^th century words of Eskiyalı of Györ,

 

 “you might be right or you might be wrong – why I should care is the question.”

 

Your adventure quest in either Lemuria or imagined
Europe is nothing compared with the journey of your soul – by which I mean the place where mind and heart and spirit and earth must blend, and is only as religious as you choose to make it.  To avoid confusion (or churning of belief) I will call this ‘seat of being’ “tegsh” borrowed from Mongolian Shamanism (the beginning) – an ever-sought balance ‘tween spirit and humanity’.

 

So the question remains, “why should you care?” to listen to the weaving of information, believing and knowledge that Trigor offers in the ‘Sea of Stones’?  If you consider the braiding of myths to unfold as a exotic dancer  – swirling in light and shadow while removing one veil at a time, then you might also be in a

Paris
Cave, or Bavarian Ratskeller or Italian Shrine – they are the same.  For I know that you may not have come for the dance at all, but for the heady drink to escape from turgid memories, or to seek the music that is both magick and prayer, or to catch the eye of that tall gentleman in the corner, or …

 

I will use the sacred mountain of Trigor as a Tegsh of sorts in palpable form – a balance point on which to spin your dreams or teeter in some gyrations between who you are and who you are perceived to be – yet it could be any place – any person – any sense of awe encountered on your Journey that can serve as well.

 

As you stare at a magnificent structure of old
Europe – say the Louvre de Paris – do you see a museum of fine art and craft past which to march at blinding speed soas to say you did?  Do you marvel at the dedication and commanded faith the built the palace as an amusement of vanity?  Did you allow time to watch the families picnic in the park outside – a ritual of stern supervision and guiless play and delicious ‘glace’?  Do you close your eyes and reach out and in to why the City of
Lights was build here instead of there – of whether the Earth claims the City or the City an homage to the Earth?

 

The gift (or curse) that The Duuran gives you is discordance of joy!  Each slice of life so easily defined in physical terms is always a choice of Tegsh – touched by tunes of four melodies – mind, heart, spirit and earth.  As a writer, artist, teacher, parent or child, your duty is the same – to see something of awe and wonder and retell it in some simple ways that others might understand.

 

I have tricked you my friends – by taking you on a Journey to the Sea of Stones, I am able to be a stow-a-way on your Tour, to see the world through your special glasses, to see into shadow lit by your candle, to allow my spirit to drift beneath your wings – should you choose to use these items in your pouch.

 

………………………………………………

 

aye, but the waning embers need tending and the morning fire rebuilt, and the dawn to be harkened as a line of divine light marches up the many faces of  Mt. Trigor.  This day has come – let us sing!

 

The Duuran

Day Three - Froglet’s Itinerary

I have an open-ended cyber ticket, so I will not assign dates to my itinerary, but I plan to visit the following cities in order, with possible unforeseen side trips thrown in:

Dover, Calais, Paris, Geneva, Florence, Venice, Rome, Naples, Innsbruck, Berlin, Dresden, Vienna, Potsdam, Munich, Holland and Flanders.

For now I will ponder the significance of leaving the most secure fortress on the British Isles for the open waters and uncertain future on the Continent.

 (for details, plus tidbits about Dover, visit http://mosaicheart.wordpress.com/)

Sea of Stones - 3

BRAIDING of MYTH

There are those who would pretend that history started with the written word – that because someone wrote their opinion down it gains a higher order of truth.  Certainly, if a number of people read a story, or book or historical account and it resonates with their spirit, and they draw close because of it – this then is a truth worth noting, be it education, politics, religion or cuisine.   The same is true of stories told instead of writ, of traditions bound in ritual and memories called ‘tribal knowledge’ – this is to say, of information and knowledge that comes from realms other than shopping malls or sitcoms.  I, Trigor, would place more value on the mumblings of a crone by a forest fire than and evangelist on TV, though the latter thumps a book as proof, while the crone looks into the eyes of my soul.

This land in which I live is now politically called
Slovenia, and any history book will give a different accounting of the why and wherefore – justifiably as every war since the dawning has changed the name and boundaries of this place.  All accounting hold some truth, yet none account for what came before the written words – so the only fallacy would be to place ‘believing’ and action on any of these recordings alone.  This is possibly true also of the land you call home – and of the beliefs you hold sacred.  What are the myths behind the stories and revered books and taught reasoned thought?  I would entreat that you listen to your heart and spirit with equal measure.

The myths and related truths of my land through which you might wander are ‘more true’ than yours – a joke of course – yet I will tell you of several myths which braid with those of other lands and cultures in a unique way – and let you decide.  This is the way of the Duuran.

Mount
Trigor (Triglav) is a sacred mountain.  I share with you a view of the world from its crest at sunset.  The stories will follow. For now – listen to the ancient stirrings of your soul.

Trigor

 

Preparation Chat - Scroll

 

View from the Duuran Cabin 

 

I have spoken of the “Scroll” as one of the three essential parts of travel or quest.  In ancient times this would have embraced all of the methods of recording thoughts and events during a journey.  Advances in technology have both added and detracted from this practice; and now some recording methods belong in “Pouch” instead, e.g. digital camera, voice recorder and electronic day-timer.  For many, these devices will serve to record all impressions from a journey, but I would suggest are far from complete.

 

Most travelers on a Grand-Tour kept a diary or journal; both designed to support a daily discipline, but with different intent.  Consider that a ‘journal’ is a recording on daily occurrences, while a ‘diary’ is a recording of impressions that might affect your values or opinions.  Both are a listing of either data or facts, and if limited to that are cold and barren.  It is the ‘side-notes’ which expand these facts into ‘information’ which is of value. For example, a photograph of an impressive mountain like Triglav is simply data, and perhaps you should purchase a postcard instead.  When you add referential information such as time, season it becomes a fact – it is linked in some way to your experience base and RNA linked to ‘all mountains’, and ‘beautiful things’.  If you now add a note as to why you took the picture, or include a friend in the photograph it becomes ‘information’ – there is a story to tell and a measurable value attached.

 

So, the key to “scroll” is to gather INFORMATION, not data or facts.  How might this be done?      

Between wars. when I was working on the famous Orient Express as a porter, I found an exquisite leather-bound booklet forgotten by a passenger.  I would never read the private notes, of course, but scanned enough to learn of the owner and return it to her.  I was much impressed by the method used to gather information on her ‘Grand-tour’.  It was comprised of three sections; one a collection of loose-leaf, ring-bound pages – one added for each day, a pocket for holding small note cards labled “Reflections”, and a closed compartment in which physical specimen like leaves, menus and trinkets were placed.  It was easy tyo see how the system worked.

.

REFLECTIONS:  the cards held brief notes of ‘things to be remembered’ – ranging from sayings heard, interesting signs read, and descriptions of the items in the compartment.  I could see that many of these notes could later become parts of poems, or seeds of an essay.  In a way they were verbal photographs recording information for later consideration or reflection. JOURNAL:  Each daily page was pre-printed in sections, and on most pages an entry was made in every category.  Here the purpose was to record DATA with as little judgment as possible, and FACTS relevant to that specific time and place.  A single page might or might not contain any real INFORMATION, but the combination of pages taken either by category or timeline certainly did.  Here are the categories with my notes as to what they seemed to be used for: SETTING –Describe where you are physically. What is the room like? Are you at a desk or lying on the floor? How are you dressed? What distractions are there? 

WEATHER –What is it like outside? Did it effect your choice of daily activity, including Journal time? What plans have to be changed? Are you inspired to ‘create’ anything? FEELINGS –Reflect on how you are feeling about yourself, the journey, your commitment to the ‘Grand-Tour, etc. Then select the option from a pre-made list that is closest to your ‘condition’ (see Staff). Remember, feelings are never right or wrong. If you become judgmental, then you are not dealing with a ‘feeling’ — start over. EVENTS –Record impactful things that are happening around you and involve your time or work and interaction with others. Record information about other people, sports, movies, trips, shopping spree — anything. Be brief but complete. Do include that you buried a fallen bird today — do not record what you had for dinner. That fact that you commit to read a particular book might be recorded here. The conclusion and thoughts derived from the reading will be noted in another ‘filed’, like INSIGHTS. MOOD — Focus on ‘work’ that you are doing and your ‘attitude’ while approaching it. Unlike ‘feelings’ this can be judgmental. Select ONE item from your “to do” list that best describes your mood. Both MOOD and FEELINGS will be correlated later with your progress in personal growth. 

CREATIVE –This includes specific ‘pieces’ that you produce, either spontaneously, or as an extension of a Reflective Thought. This may be a story, poem, song, essay, sculpture, painting, tatting — whatever. Do not describe it here. Enter only the location of this item such as URL, Computer folder, or physical location. INSIGHTS – Enter free-form thoughts of an ‘ah-ha’ variety — a revelation, a prediction, a noticed link between the physical and spiritual worlds — even epiphenomena (oh yes, get a dictionary and Thesaurus).  Your friends will occasional remark that they have observed an ‘insight’. Write it down — it is your record of spiritual growth. IMPACT – 

Following the ancient Greek tradition your inner being is comprised of MIND, SOUL and SPIRIT. You must decide for yourself what they mean, affected by any religious practice you follow. Generally they should be related to ‘how you process information and make decisions’, how you relate to others and the environment, and how you ‘pray’, ‘reflect’ or otherwise contemplate ‘who you are’ and ‘why you are here’. There is always something to be entered into each category EVERY DAY of your life. This is an incredible tool — especially since you can now track your changes of thought and attitude over time.  These affect your “Belief System” and “Tacit Knowledge”.  Here you are translating INFORMATION into some useful relevance.  It doesn’t matter if you agree with the new thought or not – only that you are taken to your core beliefs. DREAMS – Record any significant, prolong, or repetitious dream event. Include characters, colors, places, etc. If you dream every night and then stop — record that! DREAM THOUGHT – 

This is not required after every dream entry, but occasionally you will have a thought, attitude, fear or excitement over a dream — write them down. ACTIVITES – These are ‘events’ that you engage in over a period of time; hobbies, a sports team, a club or organization. Consider how you interact with each and how this approach changes as you become more ‘aware’ of what you are. School courses are not normally included, but ‘taking flute lessons’ might be. ‘Hanging out at the mall’ should be left out, but ‘engaging in a Tuesday night Chat Room’ might be. Get it?  …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….. At first glance this may seem tedious, but experience has shown that we cannot remember minutia from day to day – and certainly not its relevance to our emotional or spiritual growth.  I understand that each traveler here has made a commitment to daily writing.  This does not mean a book or poem.  It does mean “now”!  Christian scripture would have us read, “In the beginning was the word.”  If you instead embrace, “In the beginning IS the word.”  then this all makes sense.

Sea of Stones - 2

As the night-fire grows dim, banked just enough to insure that the breath of morning will bring rebirth, I ponder over what has touched me this day.  Some might call it a ritual – others a form of prayer, but for me it is a more ancient call.  In the Alani traditions of my ancestors the day begins with such banking of the fire rather than the rising of the sun, and I must pay attention to staff and pouch and scroll before beginning the night’s spirit journey.  More of that later …

 

for now I simply reflect on what life has offered me – chatter amongst the villagers, scribblings from students, a tiny pebble in my sandal, deep thoughts from fellow travelers, a special arrangement of branches and flowers, a passage from a famous book, the view of Lake Bohinj at sunset  …  what of these will affect my values, standards and creative hopes?  A Christian mystic noted, “because my house is in order my soul is at rest.”  The same can be found in diverse cultures and language – so it must be true, or at least worthy of believing.  My eyes droop as I ask the three questions of the Turqusii;  where do I find that which is useful, who do I believe and in what do I trust?

 

During my slumber I also receive messages from realms beyond my practical perception, but surely as valuable a source of answers as any other – yet no better either.  Information comes in and sometimes wisdom comes out – and what else is a Gusari for – or thee?  I awake with a start – churning spirit and mind – thoughts to be set down – words not recorded until now, as they whisper from a time before writing, before history then …

 

First I tend to the fire so that new friends may find a welcome start to their day – then I write:

 

 

CERT
LAKE

 

It is said in challenge or jest

that a man’s soul is like a lake,

and that a pebble dropped in

will cause ripples on endless shores,

and the waters n’er be the same.

 

As truth of this I know a place

where the pure waters sit tranquil

from gift of windless glacial snow

and depth unknown except in faith,

that a stone’s fall will be revealed.

 

You need but observe its decent

to grasp the depth of life itself –

your time allowed and gifts endowed

with a choice of what ripples swell

to touch heart and soul in trust.

 

Yet each man’s pride defeats it all,

for a frozen lake ripples not –

and such calm pristine clarity

also reflects one’s human face

that naught is seen of God at all.

 

……………………………………………………………………………………

 

it seems then, my friends, that I must allow your eyes to see for me, your hearts to leap for joy in my stead, your spirit to gather my tears.  Aye, I may not choose to believe a single thought you offer – but I must believe in YOU …

 

of this I know,

and of this

am The Duuran

Departure from Bristol

Traveller set off from her home town of Bristol, a teeming port city, where she had had difficulty find a seat on the stage coach. The roads were appalling that winter and the carriage managed to lose a wheel before they had even arrived in Bath. Reluctantly, she put up for the night in a bug-infested, rat-ridden hostelry from which she was only too glad to escape on the morrow. The journey to Dover seemed interminable. As she was leaving the hostelry, called ‘the Enchanted Well’ a strange figure had brushed against her, a figure who resembled no living mortal of her era but rather looked as if she had been assembled from various mythological figures. She had wild flowing locks and a cape with mystical images embroidered on it and she carried a twisted staff in one hand. This character had thrust a small bag into her hand saying ”take this, you may find you have need of some of the items therein” and had disappeared. Traveller had thrust it into her pocket but in the coach curiosity got the better of her so she took it out and began to examine its contents, tipping them out on the seat next to her. And what a strange mix of items they were. First of al there was a stiff piece of card, like an invitation.

 

Le Enchanteur has pleasure in inviting you to join her and a number of other travellers on the trip of a lifetime to realms hitherto uncharted - a GRAND TOUR of the land of Lemuria - If you wish to accept this offer you should present yourself at the House of Shells on Friday 1 December 2006 at 9am Further information will be supplied to you at the rendez-vous

There was a candlestick, a packet of seeds, a picture of a winged unicorn glued on to the back of an old playing card, an old pair of metal-framed spectacles, a tiny anchor and a pair of wings . She picked up each item in turn. The candlestick was very small and she couldn’t think what purpose it might serve for it was far too small to provide a light. The seed packet bore the legend ‘dream seeds’ but the picture looked like an opium poppy – and then she saw the connection – of course, opium induced dreams … (how had she heard it described recently? Riding the dragon, that was it. She hoped she wouldn’t doing any dragon-riding in the near future. But perhaps the seeds were for planting one’s dreams and nurturing them as they grew.

 

 

The spectacles didn’t appear to out of the ordinary, just very old. The anchor must have fallen off somebody’s charm bracelet and she couldn’t imagine what she could do with a pair of wings. However did they become small enough to fit in the pouch? She pushed her hand right to the bottom of the bag to ensure that she had found everything when her hand touched something old and papery. She carefully drew it out and unfolded it. It appeared to be a map of some sort but did not look like any maps she had seen before. She decided she would have another look at the map when the light was better. She carefully packed everything back into the bag and stowed it away. Leaning back against the seat considering the objects she eventually dozed off, thus managing to while away the next couple of hours of the journey through a particularly boring flat landscape.

Eventually she arrived at Dover, from where she would be setting out on 1 December. Her passage was already booked and she was eagerly anticipating the adventure, although, it must be said, not the crossing of the channel. Although she could swim like a fish she never felt comfortable on board a ship and prayed for calm seas that day.

 

The Myth Begins

Much is made of the Grand-Tour as a journey from here to there, from parts familiar to halls of mystery, a quest to gather artifacts of value.  For the shallow of spirit this was true centuries ago when the world was limited by ease of travel and silver coins.  Today it is also true, when language is limited to Spellcheck magic and value is set by PayPal fantasy.  Yet, all of you are of the artist’s soul, and thereby may learn more by expecting less.  Herein I may be a guide of sorts, if you listen with heart instead of reason.

 

Any journey worth taking is from far without to close within, and you need take only staff and pouch and scroll – which I will describe along the way.  That which seems familiar must be challenged and that which is a mystery must be accepted as a source of truth.  Knowledge is the only item of value to be brought home – while beliefs will become as valueless as desert sand.  Aye, my friends – the rich will come home as paupers, while those who find joy in simple things will live in a palace of dreams…

 

or so it is told in the legends of The Sea of Stones –

 

why you must learn of the Zlatorog and Chemmis and Trebusca

 

why Trigor is called The Duuran

A Duuran Choice

I would have you consider, each by each, the import of the ‘Grand-tour’ mystique

in the spirit of more ancient times – yet, perhaps more relevant today than when;

for it was known that a man must settle mind and spirit of churning youth

into responsibilities of position and state – often not of their own choosing.

 

Life was short by standards of today, but the levels of stress and anxiety less.

In but a couple of years or months or even bookish dream,

life decisions had to be made that might never be changed unto death.

Each of you now, regardless of age or position, has a chance at rebirth –

to choose an alter-ego, to walk a different path – to look closely in a crystal mirror.

 

Within the confines or freedom of this Journey you may speak with a different voice –

may in fact find it necessary – not from deceit or ploy,

but that friends here secure and true may see the world from another view –

and so it is that I now speak as Trigor –

 

one of the most serious things I have ever done!

 

‘papa’, by calling, chance and angel kiss is Master of Sakin’el –

driven to create a haven for the weary of heart and forgetful

of innocence and simple joys of heart and hand in toil.

I have written close to a hundred stories and poems about the creation of this Haven to which you all might come some day – but for that I can bring it alive in writings..

 

‘faucon’ is a title rather than a name – a gifting of a painful level of empathy and humility that allows many spiritual things to ‘flow through me’.  For this I pay a price, both physically and emotionally, as is often evident in the tears on my pages.  As ‘faucon’ I am like a conduit through which sad, tragic and evil energy can be transformed into awe and wonder. – hopefully shared in a simple way to touch one of you.  In these last five years I have written more than 1000 pieces, most of which you will never see.

 

Occasionally you have also seen glimpses of ‘The Gusari’ – one who is embroiled with Currents of ancient mists – not reincarnation or channeling, but glimpses of truths beyond my understanding.  I have attempted to write of these in stories set in medieval times for a ‘protection of distance’.  More directly, I finally wrote Phinominal Propengicks which gives answers but lacks many of the supporting questions.  Heather has asked that I attempt to speak more in this ‘Gusari’ voice.  And being asked, I shall.

 

However, as a simple, fumbling human named Ken I often get these roles confused,

at least attempting to separate voices according to blog ‘flavor’.  There may be other facets to me that are still unknown – it is not a game or psychosis – such is the incredible crucible of my life – and yours if you so allow.  I ask your indulgence.

 

I cannot speak to you of things known to a Gusari in the voice of either papa , Ken or faucon without risking whatever source of joy or whimsy they might bring .to you.  Write to Emmie if you must understand more.  As papa I am mate and friend, as faucon I am her Guardian – as a Gusari I am none of these, yet all of them and more.

 

So, it is up to all of you here on this Journey.  I can ask that you stand on the shoulders of Trigor and see a different world, or a jumbled mixture of papa and faucon – you cannot have both on this Journey.  I beg that you visit papa at Riversleigh and faucon at the Abbey and let Trigor be ‘the Duuran’ for a trembling bit of time.  The truth of it is that you may not like some of what Trigor reveals, and I do not want you to like papa less for it – I have ego enough for that!  Yet, if Trigor can bring but one touch of eternity to you – then this I must do.

 

Trigor (The Duuran)