Early Town, the Carnival Lady and an Attic of Secrets…
The days set slow in Early Town where shadows arrange in mysterious shapes under hazy trees of late summer.
I walk along a dry path, a dusting of cinnamon shimmer rises and settles in a traveling breeze across the field of milkweed and yarrow.
The path I travel finds its place along Gum Creek Cemetery and the house of the old carnival lady.
Time seems limpid and very still at the old wooden house. Her treasures are all within…the carnival stories told over again on porch swings during hot summer nights, only when children are dreaming. The tarnished charms, intimate letters wrapped in faded ribbon and dried lavender, dead flowers from a long ago lover, carnival posters, moth eaten lace dress slips and secrets….
These things live high in her house among the attic walls.
On moon bright midnights, broken shards of attic window glass shine on wood board floor, like geometric shaped jewels from a strange faraway place.
When the storms come dressed with the ” whistling winds ” as the old lady calls them, they will rattle the carnival parchment posters from yesteryear.
This sound reminds me of the frantic dying moth stuck inside a small wooden box.
I smile and ask her for a story that was new once, long moments ago.
She speaks to me ” The secrets are not for sharing, they are for finding.”
We share…only yarrow tea and moments of silence….
One Autumn afternoon, when the yarrow is long and milky white in the field, illumined by a hot sun, I will return to the path past Gum Creek Cemetery, all shadows and silent wildflowers…and settle upon the vine covered porch of the old carnival woman’s house.
An old envelope, showing signs of dust and time I find as I enter through the door, upon the first step of the stairs. Small and neat are the words “For You My Child, Seeker of Secrets” and inside was a clean paper and pen with a small note attached at the top…
“We are receivers of this presence, We are like secrets finding, unfolding unto the light.
The manifested thought is our creation alone. Guide it, nurture it from a place of true wonderment…”
This prose is the inspiration for my “August Heat” perfume with lovely and sensual notes of Honeysuckle, Cinnamon, Sweet Orange, Ylang Ylang and Vanilla
Dreams From The Wood Porch
A stirring of rust colored leaves rise ethereal with clay dust as the girl child dances under the hazy sun of an August heat…
Not yet Angel gold dipped in sin and prayer, her tinkling laughter is matched by the cicada drone that beats with hypnotic fervor.
He rocks back and forth ceremoniously on the old porch with solemn and careful watching.
The evening damp strangles and descends the smoke clouded mist from the old man’s pipe as a whippoorwill hurriedly cuts through the last lazy moment of heat from the celestial terrace.
He waits in the gathering dark for her to come in as she moves steadfast and barefoot…
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Marrowbone town is as ancient and orphic as the memory is intimate with secrets.
Light is the same at Marrowbone in the morning as it is at dusk, when the sun and star shine, upon silver sheen fog, reach the eyes.
One will find many treasures and visions among the souls of townsfolk here. You will find them waiting for you among the thorned Honey Locust trees, the sun dusted fields of thistle and vines, the river ferry whose secrets are told slowly and the abandoned places of Marrowbone town. These are the truest places when the moon is still and dreams are carried by dark wings of starlings.
Each season bears the weight of a dark sleep and rebirth called the Great Turning.
This is when the sibylline story is shared with spirit among Marrowbone townsfolk.
The story was carved deep, inside, from the dawning by the hand of the alpha light and the first warrior.
All men, women and children have the “knowing” in Marrowbone.
Old man Caedmon says to me “it was never taken from us, just forgotten”
This story is best shared through the eyes and thoughts of two special young souls in Marrowbone….Angel Blue and Einar
All townsfolk in Marrowbone live in joyful light and storm, doing what they do best…creating thought for the highest good of all.
This gift was the beginning.
The gift could never be destroyed or taken. It could only be hidden…
Angel Blue loved to form thoughts in the forests, creeks, winter moon autumns and abandoned houses.
Angel Blue was from the one before the beginning. She is silver light, deepest fire and the most potent thought creator Einar has ever known.
The dark-eyed Junco tinkles a silvery song from a high loft as it watches her presence slowly move close to old man Caedmon’s barn.
Einar is waiting, with silence, shadow clad and cedar smoke.
The shadows that envelop Einar are primal, fierce and protective.
Einar is a watcher and grand seer from the first warrior. His lineage was boldly carved in a secret storm; a watcher in the dark was his seal.
His gift as a seer was to protect Angel Blue in her time of Vision.
This bond was silent but forceful between them.
Even when she lay alone upon the feathered mattress listening intently to the long metallic whistle of the midnight train through a dreaming Marrowbone, did she feel Einar’s watching.
He is always the protector of the dream vision, like an invisible silk web shrouding her moonlit flesh.
Angel Blue and Einar walk together with moments bathed in charcoal star skies, smoky clove scented woodlands, and abandoned places in the season of knowing.
A Loggerhead shrike glides swift through the ether of falling dusk, capturing a field mouse in its talons.
Angel Blue and Einar watch the dance with death as the Loggerhead shrike impales the mouse on a long Honey locust thorn.
Einar tells Angel Blue “The watcher knows the mystery in the living, dances close to what we promised to not remember…”
The vision will be dreamed through the season of knowing…
The vision will be passed on to you and me…
I am so very excited about one of my newest perfume scents titled “Summer Midnights”.
It is vibrant, luscious and dreamy with lovely, harmonious notes of Orange Blossom, Ylang Ylang, Lavender and Rosewood!
This exquisite perfume will be coming in April to this website and select stores!
I will be in Vero Beach, Florida the weekend of May 5th and 6th to showcase my latest perfumes and cologne in Patchington! Please join me there for a fabulous showing with wonderful people.
2017 (c.) copyright Angel Blue Perfume, LLC – March
A Summer Dream – by Tommie Flannery Baskis
The Cicada buzz mounts to a vibratory fury and descends swift as I watch the mist settle upon the cooling late summer fields.
Bull thistle has gone to seed among the barn, white flurries dance soft upon the heated electric ether, sent forth before the storm.
I wander a lush and timeless countryside, where feathery mimosa tree blossom give generous a sensual fragrance… a gift for anyone fortunate to savor the sweet coconut and pink sugar, cooked by a summer sun.
A peregrine falcon soars in a space on high, overseer of its rolling hillside and Amish women hang their wet washing for the gentle wind to press into a shape that will be sun faded and warm cotton fragrant by evening.
A slow and low thunder rumbles the wood clapboards and settles with the dust.
Swift blackbirds among the cornfields take flight trailing a dusty swirled path to the blue and gray summer heaven above. They will find secret haven past the “Old” man’s tobacco barn into the tree line where dusk awaits.
Horses languish in the field with the last heated moments of this summer day.
I will lay upon a cool linen bed as the day that brought blessings will unfold into memories…
Secretly listening for the soft whistle of the small town train, that always comes before midnight. It is a lullaby song of a summer’s dream…