1. Setting Out
Within moments of deciding to seek the creative grail, the elixir of creativity, you pass through a special portal and enter the imaginary world of Lemuria, the world of le Enchanteur.
Show or describe what your portal looked like.
As you arrive le Enchanteur gives you a special bag filled with talismans for your journey. In your bag you will find a packet of dream seeds, spectacles, a candlestick, a tiny anchor, a medallion with the imprint of the Unicorn and a set of wings. Each bag contains something that has been chosen specifically for each recipient.
Do not misplace this bag or let anyone take it from you. Keep it with you at all times.
The door opens and a vista of Lemuria spreads before you.
Share with us what you see, hear, smell, sense, taste, feel.
Categories to use: Lemurian Portal – Lemurian Vista.
Group photograph September 2006
Leaving with le Enchanteur
Searching for the Grail of Creativity.
by Heather Blakey
The group photo is wonderful!! But now you got to tell us which is which!! What a formidable bunch we are!
Formidable, yes. Beautiful and royal as well. There is much wisdom from the collective unconscious in that group. Not to mention the calm and trust evident in their expressions and closeness to one another.
It is a wonderful group photo isn’t it. Monika and I will have to get some of these images onto cups and magnets. I confess I love drinking out of my Enchanteur Dream Seeds mug and Enchanteur loves the one with her holding up the world. But then we all know she is a bit of a diva.
Gwen what a lovely lovely idea! It puts me in mind of Thomas Merton’s mystical experiences while standing on a corner of the street!”The wisdom of the collective unconscious”—can’t you just imagine what we are capable of together???!! The mind boggles with the possibilities!
The possibilities are amazing, firstly, most of us seem to have a strongly spiritual side, and we have done far more than just ’sharing ideas, and showing our work.
At the centre of Wicca is the belief that we can consciously direct personal energies to do their bidding.
With as close as we have become in our years of touching one another’s hearts and spirit,our personal energies reflexively meld into a sum that is far greater then the individual’s energies.
That potentiality is what humbles and elates me.
what a seque to my next post ‘Pussing the Portal envelope’
Folks
This place, of Pablo Neruda’s, I’ve visited and I believe he describes what I felt better than could I! “I have come out of that…” I sit at his feet (and try not to drool). Eric
“Under the volcanoes, beside the snow-capped mountains, among the huge lakes, the fragrant, the silent, the tangled Chilean forest . . . My feet sink down into the dead leaves, a fragile twig crackles, the giant rauli trees rise in all their bristling height, a bird from the cold jungle passes over, flaps its wings, and stops in the sunless branches. And then, from its hideaway, it sings like an oboe . . . . The wild scent of the laurel, the dark scent of the boldo herb, enter my nostrils and flood my whole being . . . . The cypress of the Guaitecas blocks my way . . . . This is a vertical world: a nation of birds, a plenitude of leaves . . . . I stumble over a rock, dig up the uncovered hollow, an enormous spider covered with red hair stares up at me, motionless, as huge as a crab . . . . A golden carabus beetle blows its mephitic breath at me, as its brilliant rainbow disappears like lightning . . . . Going on, I pass through a forest of ferns much taller than i am: from their cold green eyes sixty tears splash down on my face and, behind me, their fans go on quivering for a long time . . . . A decaying tree trunk: what a treasure! . . . . Black and blue mushrooms have given it ears, red parasite plants have covered it with rubies, other lazy plants have let it borrow their beards, and a snake springs out of the rooted body like a sudden breath, as if the spirit of the dead trunk were slipping away from it . . . . Farther along, each tree stands away from its fellows . . . . They soar up over the carpet of the secretive forest, and the foliage of each has its own style, linear, bristling, ramulose, lanceolate, as if cut by shears moving in infinite ways. . . A gorge; below, the crystal water slides over granite and jasper . . . . A butterfly goes past, bright as a lemon, dancing between the water and the sunlight . . . . Close by, innumerable calceolarias nod their little yellow heads in greeting . . . . High up, red copihues [Lapageria rosea] dangle like drops from the magic forest’s arteries . . . . The red copihue is the blood flower, the white copihue is the snow flower . . . . A fox cuts through the silence like a flash, sending a shiver through the leaves, but silence is the law of the plant kingdom . . . . The barely audible cry of some bewildered animal far off . . . . The piercing interruption of a hidden bird . . . . The vegetable world keeps up its low rustle until a storm churns up all the music of the earth.
Anyone who hasn’t been in the Chilean forest doesn’t know this planet.
I have come out of that landscape, that mud, that silence, to roam, to go singing through the world. ['The Chilean Forest' - Neruda ]
This is very beautiful to read, Eric!
Padding silently through this land, snuffling air and reveling in the clearness of it, I feel oddly at home.
I am new here and am in that whirlwind of enchantment! Yesterday I was just idly reading blogs here and there and making connections when WHAM! I fell under the spell of Le Enchanteur. Was it her words? yes! But what kept me glued here was the imagery. The drawings. I know those people. I travelled to those places. How could she know?
I am still in the reincorporation phase of a quest for vision. Out of that experience emerged the artist of me. She draws and colors, and creates and I think she is the one who insisted we keep seeking a place for our expression. Perhaps we have found ourselves a home. Perhaps it is a temporary enchantment. Either way, I am thrilled to be here and to have this opportunity to travel in such illustrious company.
Ah the imagery won you over! How thrilling! I know Soul Food itself is an amazing thing but my Soul Art is very new and still in its fledgling stages. It has taken much courage to post it on the internet when I see so much magnificent work out here. So I thank you for your words, knowing them to be heartfelt.
As for temporary Enchantments time will reveal if you can break out of the spell Enchanteur casts within Lemuria. Mercifully she is not like the White Witch of Narnia. She is more like Aslan really!
I am grateful for your courage to share your imagery – it truly is Soul Art. I find the images are more powerful prompts than the words. Merci
I saw this drawing when it was first posted and for some reason did not leave a comment – or perhaps I did somewhere else! I have just read a post and did not realise that it was my own work until I looked at the name – which is extraordinary! The drawings are magnificent – the failure to recognise my own work – alchemy? Have I dreamed all of this or has it entered my psyche on so many levels I am changed beyond recognition? Have I lost myself to find myself? One trip with Le Enchanteur – alchemy? Myth – or magic?
Eric, thank you for sharing the Pablo Neruda – lovely…
Lemurian sojourners, thank you for sharing your journeys, which I read with awe and respect…
If I promise to be kind to others, and do writing practice every day, and eschew obfuscation, and use active verbs most of the time, can I please be so honored as to tag along to Lemuria, this literary quest?