Month: July 2017

Hell Month 2017

Hell Month 2017

“What we call evil, is the only and best shape, which, for the person and his condition at the time, could be assumed by the best good. Two people may be at the same spot in manners and behaviour, and yet one may be getting better, and the other worse, which is the greatest of differences that could possibly exist between them.”

— George MacDonald

Around mid-April I denounced the Four+. Unrelated to that, while I thought to get the Quests written out on here as they happened, even if they didn’t have any discernable point—I started having too many remarkable (in my biased opinion, remarkable) quests and not enough time to actually remark on them, or I still had a sense of how to translate what happened into a specific narrative structure that the Quest wouldn’t even nearly fit.

  • When I encountered the Laetha Ava covered in blood—eir own blood—and I loftily voiced my musings about wounded inner children in Jungian psychology (because the smell was so terrible, the whole of what I was witnessing was, and I wanted to remain detached until the meaning of finding em like this). I spread my newspaper-print bat wings, and Ava leapt on me and ripped each one out of their sockets, shouting that now I couldn’t hide behind words. This had a very personally significant meaning, but I could hazard a guess that the curse must have taken hold if I’m sure there are words (for what this Quest meant) and I can’t even scribble them.
  • Discovering more of the troublingly possessive nature of my headcanon Captain Dahlia, as in during a swordfighting lesson in the otherworld, ey reached into my arm and started moving it from the inside, which was effective but unusual.
  • Breaking the Bone Box curse or something, that is, encountering a fusion of Mircea and the Bone Box Girl before volunteering to take the place of the latter. (“Volunteering” is entirely the wrong word for this!)
  • Meeting the Dierne Pallis in the Ethereal.

That last one has to do with my cosmology: Corporeal, or the world subject to physical sciences; Sidereal, the world of cultural constructs and society, overlapping the corporeal and sometimes touching back but not the same thing; and Surreal, where Quests or Journeys take place, usually tuned out from the first two.

The Ethereal is, I suppose, the Surreal without tuning out. I would form and express headcanon of the Dierne Pallis in the stories I was writing, which would be Sidereal; or I would have a dream about em, categorically Surreal.

When I sit in a table in a tea room in the Corporeal world, and I see my cup of iced peppermint milk tea and black sago pearl sliding away from me because Pallis took a grab at it—but I know the tea and the cup are still right in front of me, and I know that no one else sees the person with tea-thieving hands and arms that I’m seeing, and I wonder what would happen if someone corporeal sat down right where ey was sitting at that moment…

That’s the Ethereal, basically a hallucination.

And in another entry I might describe the figurative filing system of names and associations—How this Dierne appeared like Captain Foxglove (a personal guiser I work with) but didn’t come off as Captain Foxglove, or why I even still consider this the Dierne rather than Mircea…with whom the Dierne Pallis is very very perilously easy to confuse.

And in another entry I might mention what we actually talked about or got around to doing.

But as far as my mystical experiences go, the Dierne Pallis still doesn’t play nice with me and I am growing to hate em right back.

And if ey can put that aside to do what we’ve been working on that’s apparently more important, I won’t be shown up in that—even if ey has more of an idea (and more of an aversion) than I have what this thing we’re working on even is. It involves Mirror Work and absorbs my recent research into the philosophical nature of evil. (Cross-referencing Marie-Louise von Franz’s “Shadow and Evil in Fairy Tales” and Hannah Arendt’s “Eichmann in Jerusalem”.)

Couldn’t I do this with Lilybell Vega? I like Lilybell Vega.

Slightly squashed and wilted garland of jasmine flowers on a string. Traditional offering to Catholic saints, also for scenting the air. Personally I offer fresher ones to Lilybell, but this got squashed in my bag so I guess this is Mallory’s.

I don’t know what Hell Month would mean to me this year, as I have since shifted gears into the Tesseract (more popularly known as North-South); I agreed with the Clarene, with whom I worked most, that the King of the West isn’t through with me.

To the question of, “Fine, but why’s the star-boy still around?” Eh, if I’m gonna know, I’m gonna know…eventually.

 


(Featured image taken on/of a city street, silhouette of tree branches in the morning sun, behind a wall draped with white bell flower vines in bloom, evocative of the Dierne Pallis’ Court of the Starry Forest.)

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