As would be expected I followed the voice coming from the house, the voice seemed to be leading me into a great room of some kind the room had a view out on to the street in front of the house. In the room I heard the voice calling out to me and I realized it was coming from a bird cage. It was a gold bird cage but not an opulent gold but the kind you'd expect in that house the bird was red but small like a chickadee. The bird kept saying, " Welcome, come closer, it's great to have you here." and things of that nature. I reached my hand in to the cage and the bird jumped on my hand. I was quite astounded. I expected the bird to say something else but she didn't. This experience was different that walking with the faun, The faun seemed very natural, but this seemed like it was a more weighty situation. Suddenly but not surprisingly a man walked in to the great room from behind us.
The man was about 55 yrs old 5'11'' with round glasses a moustache and goatee. He dressed casual but a business casual like he was a man of importance. The man seemed very wise and knowing but it seemed like he was only a care taker of the house.
He said that the bird was not the reason we were here, her purpose was only to call us in. After that he said something about wanting to show me something else and took from the top of a dresser a bowl and set it on the table by the birdcage. I was pretty sure something spectacular was going to take place but as I looked into the bowl it was filled with water and (the bowl was very much like a fish bowl) there was a piece of scarlet floating in the water. It could have been the most powerful thing in the house but I didn't have long to look at it because the man beckoned us upstairs saying, "I'd like to tell you why you're really here."
We walked up stairs to the room directly above the great room, there was also a large window looking out onto the street. As I sat down with my side facing the window I looked outside and noticed a boy playing, he was jumping on the half filled tube of a semi-truck tire. There were other boys running up to him starting to play with him. I wondered if they were brothers.
I turned to the table we were sitting at and the Man began to speak, "How can I help you folks" Well we are just passing through... (at this time my wife was with me and she was talking and there was a third person, another man friend of mine but I never figured out or bothered to look who it was). As the chatting went on I looked out the house and again more kids were gathering at this point a couple( two or three) of older kids were coming and I knew they didn't belong one of them was smoking a roach with tweezers ( a common way to smoke the last of your marijuana so as not to burn your fingers). I turned back to focus into the conversation and the gentleman said, "I know You're going to the airport on the Island." "How did you know that I asked?"
I have my sources he said to me. At that point I started to figure out that he was some kind of friend of God like Abraham. Not the kind of son ship relationship we have with God but although still reverent a far longer and more peaceful relationship. When he said I have my sources it almost gave away his identity. But not quit.
He said that many years ago he was offered a house on that island (where we were headed). He said no to the offer and told me that the person was upset that Our man would think he was selling to him didn't he know he was just to give it to him? Then the man said You see I have been between here and the island many times and know the area's very well. It was as if he denied the house on the island to come to this city and restore the house we were sitting in. As the man continued talking about our trip to that Island I then looked back outside and saw that the kids, and teenagers that had joined were starting to get angry and were yelling at each other. There was a strange frenzy happening around the crowd like some kind of gas started to drug them. All of a sudden to boys started fighting. They were not fighting like boys fight they were fighting like adult men fight, to hurt, to hospitalize each other. As soon as the boys started fighting the fever spread though the group and the whole group was rabid and violent hitting each other with sticks and fists. (for some reason) my car was in the parking lot and I was afraid that they were going to smash it so I ran downstairs. I could feel the adrenaline in my stomach like you feel before a fight or in an intense situation. I thought I might have to start knocking out some of these kids or something I wasn't sure what I would do but I knew I had to do something. As I jumped down the flight of stairs and rounded the corner to the front door I realized something, they were not in a frenzy to attack my car they were coming to destroy the house and more importantly they were coming to attack me.
With that thought I turned turned the corner now facing the front door I saw 50-100 young people standing perfectly still staring at me with a crazed and demonized look in there eye. It was terrifying they were waiting for something to attack I could tell they were on the precipice but before I had any chance to thing I slammed the front door shut and started to shut a second security door. As I worked on the locking mechanism the man who followed me down said, "the demons have sent them into a frenzy because were all here, they're just waiting for reason to attack. He went back upstairs while I was still working on the lock mechanism it must have taken me a couple of minutes to get it back together because by the time I got upstairs everyone was laying in a bed.
I started saying, "why are we laying down? Are we hiding?" We must be hiding I though so I jumped down on the ground between a bed and dresser and was planning on hiding under the bed to wade the storm. But when I hit the floor I noticed there was a synthesizer under the bed and I couldn't get down there, I remember saying to my self this is a 26 or 27 thousand dollar synthesizer. I turned and looked at the dresser and there was a CD player in the dresser door with three delirious Cd's in it. I wasn't sure what to do next but the man called us all into a room at the other side of the house. This room had a window facing the back of the house and I could see one of the bewitched young people standing on a hill behind the house the hill was very steep and the top of the hill was about level with the window so the boy was only about ten or twelve yards away from the house I could clearly see the expression on his face he wanted to get in and attack us he was trying to intimidate us by his stare.
The whole time this was happening the Man (our host) was not scarred he was not moved he was almost unaware of the attackers although he clearly knew what was happening. I realized, or he said the we were not hiding that we were resting and we needed the rest for our journey to the Island with the airport. As we were sitting there I got more and more agitated at the crazed teenager on the hill I wanted to smash him so bad and suddenly in a moment of futile boldness I put my middle finger up to him in a sign of defiance. As soon as I did that a hundred other crazed young people jumped up to the top of the hill and started screaming and yelling. The teen I was staring out took a Rambo knife out of his back pocket and stuck the tip underneath his chin and started pushing it up.
The man (our host) said to me that they were waiting for me to do that because they had no reason to respond until I acted out of my flesh like that. I knew if we did anything else they would some how storm in here and it'd be all over. My wife was getting scarred and finally she couldn't handle the pressure and more and yelled at the gang, "hey get out of here, don't do that" As soon as she did that they in unison started volleying object at the house,
These things happened almost simultaneously the objects were leaving the hands of the demonized and the Man said you do not understand the power of your words I will show you the power of your words. With that he let out a sound like a note maybe an A note but it was not just a sound it was worship. As he let it out objects were crashing through the large glass window and I thought we'd be ripped to shreds. I remember specifically that the first thing that broke through the window was a glass doorknob that I thought they ripped of the house.
The glass shattered as the objects came flying through just as they were about to hit us all of the glass and wood and other objects stopped around our faces. I looked across at my wife and it seemed like she was wearing a mask covered with glass I wasn't sure if the sound just made or skin like titanium or every thing just stopped. Then the man said, you have the ability to walk in this same power but now is the time to go. With another note I could feel our bodies start to dematerialize and I knew we were being transported to the island.
Then I woke up
The Sun of this world burns through the clouds of my dreams and before the heat of the day washes away the memory let us re-establish the clouds.
We were walking, well the focus was on her but I was also there. She had just recently undergone a pretty serious surgery against the desire of her will. The surgery was pain free and the recover time was instantaneous in her mind (in reality I think she'd been laid up for a couple of months, but wasn't quite aware of time). There were stories on the news about these kinds of people (people like her) but the stories made it sound like they were all natural like it hadn't taken this surgery to change her. I suppose you could call it cosmetic surgery. She had been turned into a faun. Not a strange or ugly faun but the kind of faun that you would expect to live here among us without anyone really being that upset about it. Part of the reason was her face was pleasant and comforting to look at. Not the stunningly gorgeous kind but caring gentle but not a push-over. She certainly was beautiful but in a more sisterly way. She had brown shoulder length hair and wore a well fitted light blue shirt that matched her fur.
I'm sure you're thinking, "Yea but what about the deer feet?" Hooves, actually. I would tell you that in a strange way they didn't seem out of place and you certainly wouldn't be able to tell that they were surgically applied. Her legs, if that's what you call them were much slimmer than I would imagine faun legs to be and the way she walked was not ploddy like is depected in fantisy movies. She walked without huge strides or overly regal like the narnia centaurs. If you were looking just at her waste up you wouldn't even know she was a faun. I don't know if the faun part was biological or robotic or some kind of combination that doesn't matter. What was amazing was as we walked down the street everyone looked but oddly no one starred and everyone smiled. Well one guy didn't smile but I think he was some kind of pervert.
We were walking into a residential area and looking around at the houses. It was a very architectually mixed neighborhood. On our left there was a brick building maybe a community center, it seemed to mark the end of anything comercial and the entrance into this neighborhood. The neighborhood reminded me of Laurelhurst in Portland. Lots of hills lots of houses lots of families, lots of trees. We were about three blocks in and on my left we (I don't know if it was she or I first) noticed a beautiful victorian house. It was a shade darker than antique white and had huge picture windows one the first and second floors. The front door was set one third from the left of the front of the house and the picture window took up another great portion. The porch was covered and the ceiling of the porch was a pale purple. There was a dusty light green trim and a light yellow trim. The house must have been 150 years old but is looked like it was recently remdled. I mean the kind of remodeling that sanded down the whole house to perfection and then painted with the finest detail. There was nothing our of place and the more I starred at it the more I realized it was the amazing house I'd ever seen. There was another part of the house that I can't stop thinking about so I'll just have to tell you. On the four corners of the house had a cap surrounded by trim filled with an amazing victorian style design. Like the swirly ones you see at anthropology or saks fifth avenue. These caps were about eye level on each of the corners and again they were unique but not odd. As a young man I never really appreciated houses our architecture and would have driven by this house my whole life never stopping to take notice of the detail. But we stood there and stared. I told the faun it looked like it dropped out of a architectural magazine and wasn't it funny that it was here in the middle of nowhere Amereica. I guess all amazing places have to be somewhere but we don't always excpect them to just jump upon us like that. It jumps at us in the way that rip van winkle jumps at something, dazed and drowsy while trying to take in a totally virgin vantage of reality.
We were admiring the landscaping with the circly cut shrubbery that you find in front of rich persons house and the small village of barkdust rocks and bushes all greenery no flowers. Some one called out to us from inside the house and asked if we wanted to come in and look around. The invite was quite cordial and being quite bewiched by the beauty of the home we strolled up the front steps. The house was beautiful and like any piece of art that becomes more beautiful as you look at it so did the house. It seemed like the colors actually got more vibrant the longer we looked at them but they (the whole house) had been hiding itself from the rest of the world for fear of being used in vain or just used without committment without love. We'll maybe the owner whoever put the work in the house felt like that, if he did he did a darn good job of communicating it.
We walked in and toward the voice wich seemed to be coming from the dining room...
to be cont'd
I read an article by a philosopher recently on art and music. The idea was good art and music have challenges inherent inside them.
First it is Pleasing to the senses and attractive in some way to draw you to the communication puzzle.
Second The piece of art is communicating something, we have to find out what the message is. There are challenges and when you are sure you have locked down the concept or an aspect of the concept you have reached a sort of mountain-top.
I was listening to a song last week from a cd that I've had for years. I honed in on a specific lyric that said, "Betty Ford wont you be my valentine." For some reason I thought it was hilarious and touching and the same time. I realized I got what he was trying to say. The singer is musing about addiction and the desire to be clean.
It's funny In John chapter 6 Jesus feeds the multitudes with a few loaves and fishes but then a couple of days later he says to the crowd the only reason you like me is because of the food I fed you. In order to really follow me you have to eat my flesh and drink my blood. And every one got offended and left because they were listening to what appeared to be the face value of his message. Jesus turns to the few followers that are around him and says, "There's the door if you want out." and John responds, Jesus we cant leave you you are the only one with the words of life. John is saying there is a complex truth in your words that even if I don't get them right away I know that I will at some point and they give me life.
I'm not sure why we as a society think that if you're not blatant and brash you're not communicating the truth. Jesus spoke primarily in parables and the people closest to him barley knew what he was talking about. Not because he was in the business of confusion but because there is a beauty in the discovery. When we are given a gift it is great but the idea of finding a treasure in a treasure hunt is far more romantic and impactful. There's the door
