Aug 27, 2009

Now this is how to close an exhibit

Miss Eleanor Anderton dances 'neath the flowers..

Last evening I had the privilege to join PJ Trenton and Tricia Aferdita at the closing of their joint show at Mr. Trenton's gallery, Exposure (
The theme of the closing event was Latin music.

While I was only able to join the fun for the last 30 minutes or so, it was a grand good time. Gabi was working the music and the crowd was quite animated and fun.

(foreground from left) Tricia, PJ, Eva, Gabi

Here are just a few snapshots from the event. Based on the quality of work I saw last night, and the warm welcome by the artists, I am sure to return to Exposure.

Salsa! Flamenco! Paso Doble!

Thanks, PJ!

Aug 25, 2009


As defined in Merriam Webster's Dictionary: a teller of stories: as a : a relater of anecdotes b : a reciter of tales (as in a children's library) c : liar, fibber d : a writer of stories

sto·ry·tell·ing \-ˌte-liŋ\ noun

I was so pleased to be able to join in on the second half of the Storytelling event in Caledon Tamronnoch last evening. It had been too long since I indulged in such pleasure at the Fallen Anvil. Thank you JJ and Aldo!

And many thanks to the fine tale weavers whom I had the honor to hear: Diogenes Kuhr, Serra Anansi, and Riven Homewood.

Miss Dio

Lady Kate and I enjoy the tales - and the crisp white wine

Miss Riven

A lovely couple whom I have not yet met.

Mr. Ra, Sir JJ, Lady Serra, me, Lady Kate

Aug 22, 2009

Cask Craft

Now I know precisely what to do with those huge old casks in the dungeon basement.

(More information to be found at Hotel-Vrouwevanstavoren's site.)

Before the Cask of Wine
by Li Po

The spring wind comes from the east and quickly passes,
Leaving faint ripples in the wine of the golden bowl.
The flowers fall, flake after flake, myriads together.

You, pretty girl, wine-flushed,
Your rosy face is rosier still.
How long may the peach and plum trees flower
By the green-painted house?
The fleeting light deceives man,
Brings soon the stumbling age.

Rise and dance
In the westering sun
While the urge of youthful years is yet unsubdued!
What avails to lament after one's hair has turned white
like silken threads?

Aug 16, 2009

A Golden Time

The evening was quiet after a long day filled with sea trials and intel records review. Thankfully, some soup and fresh vegetables from my little kitchen garden had been prepared and left for me in my private quarters, so that I could bathe, put on my robe, and not worry about anything else.

After finishing the light supper sometime around 9:00pm, I walked to my library and began thumbing through some old journals. I suppose it would be no great surprise to anyone that Eva has always kept notes - if not formal diaries - and sketches or photographs. I stumbled upon a box labeled, "Antalya" . I had not looked in through this window of my life for years. I pulled the box from the shelf and sat comfortably in my chaise.

I found many notes from the expedition on which I traveled and worked with my great uncle, Douggal. I was between terms at university when Douggal convinced my parents that I should be permitted to travel with him to the Turkish coast on an archeological expedition. This trip would be the first of many digs as archeology and discovery soon became a passion for me.

I read through the notes and looked at my sketches for some period of time, and then along about midnight, I came across a little sheath of papers and photos tied with a white ribbon. What I found were pictures of me taken one evening at the ruins. It had been so very warm that night that I dared to take my overblouse off and was wearing only the short trousers that were generally worn under my work skirt. A young man on my team had somehow taken these pictures when I thought I was alone - dealing only with my thoughts - and delivered them to me along with this poem.

The sand a golden bronze, the sun a flame
Which sinks beneath the blue levantine sea.
We stand upon a ruin rightly famed,
The stars above our only canopy.

I hold you close and guide you through this dance.
No music breaks the calm, our heartbeats true.
This moment cannot be the work of chance.
The steps we take so old, yet always new.

I meet your eyes, a moment, maybe two.
You smile, and in your smile a dream unfolds.
We never hoped for this, we simply knew,
Emboldened by our faith in love untold.

I take your hand, we walk into the night,
Your eyes the only stars left in my sight.

Och! We were so young. And I was soon to depart for the University again.....

OOC note - this small scenario inspired by stumbling across the words
of the anonymously authored poem

Aug 1, 2009


The Zombie Queen of Skye - or The Lady B in clever disguise.

...and her minions

There are zombies in my Minuet!

Brave Regency Lady Huntress

Excerpt from Pride & Prejudice & Zombies
by: Jane Austin and Seth Grahame-Smith

As Mr. Darcy walked off, Elizabeth felt her blood turn cold. She had never in her life been so insulted. The warrior code demanded she avenge her honour. Elizabeth reached down to her ankle, taking care not to draw attention. There, her hand met the dagger concealed beneath her dress. She meant to follow this proud Mr. Darcy outside and open his throat.

But no sooner had she grabbed the handle of her weapon than a chorus of screams filled the assembly hall, immediately joined by the shattering of window panes. Unmentionables poured in, their movements clumsy yet swift; their burial clothing in a range of untidiness. Some wore gowns so tattered as to render them scandalous; other wore suits so filthy that one would assume they were assembled from little more than dirt and dried blood. Their flesh was in varying degrees of putrefaction; the freshly stricken were slightly green and pliant, whereas the longer dead were grey and brittle – their eyes and tongues long since turned to dust, and their lips pulled back into everlasting skeletal smiles.

A few of the guests, who had the misfortune of being too near the windows, were seized and feasted on at once. When Elizabeth stood, she saw Mrs. Long struggle to free herself as two female dreadfuls bit into her head, cracking her skull like a walnut, and sending a shower of dark blood spouting as high as the chandeliers.

Zombie Kira arrives....but a hunter lurks in the background.

What a fantastically fun night we had last night. I would say that there were more zombies than hunters or victims, but that did not stop our fun one bit. No ninjas at all, though, which is a wee bit of a shame. I was so pleased to have my friends from Steelhead join me in this venture.

Fuzzball Ortega rocked the playlist for 3 hours instead of just two because the party was still going strong at the stated 9pm ending.

It was also such a joy to have friends - from the very new (just met last night) to the very old (more than three years now) - from Caledon and Winterfell attend. We had folks from a smattering of other sims head on over and join the blood bath - er - fun as well. A new neighbor even braved the lag and dropped by to say 'hello'.

While we did not crash the sim, we did have a griefer show up. A sure sign of a well-attended event. He was diffused quite well by me in IM and left of his own accord. Iason, Tensai, and Hotspur were all poised to do some damage to the person if he had not complied(which is far more fun than merely ejecting they tell me) since I had enabled damage in the sim for the zombie shoot on the front lawn. A few hardy souls gave that a try - alas I have no pictures. Guess we'll just have to do it again.

My thanks to:
  • Zombie Kira who lent us the zombie shooter game
  • the Huntress Lumina who provided the dance machines
  • And to Zombie Icarus Ghost who shared some snapshots with me. I share those and several more of my own with you.

Gryffin Hax (hunter or hunted?)

Poor Angelica can't seem to detach this one.

Lovely Miss Lowey

A young zombie in love??

Lumina the Huntress

There's a young, tasty morsel.

Someone suggested that brains be checked at the door. "Yessssss, we'll keep them very safe for you. Yessss, of course they will be returned at the end of the night."


Frequency Picnic - the lovely (decided against zombie avatar stating that she has so many of them, it would be nice to be the lady for a change).

Fabulous Steelhead couples - all undeadlike

Do come back and see us.....and bring fresh brains your friends.