October 19, 2009

Today is my day!

And so, Day 6 of the POEtic Exchange is the day my gifties are to be opened. I stitched the fuzzy gifts into old book page packaging and painted the number 6 on to black feathers as a hint of what will be found inside.....

Felted Raven Adornments with shiney threads and bright beads, such things a Raven would covet.

And this bird is more than just a necklace.... it is also a pouch... a little place to hide your shiney, rusty or natural treasures found as you fly through your day.

Although they do not look sinister, the pouch makes them a little mysterious! Don't ya think? I hope all the POEtic girls like their gift from my Tell-Tale heart. hee hee

Edgar Allan Poe
The Raven
[First published in 1845]

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.`
'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.
'Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating`
'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,
'Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore! '
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!
'Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!
'Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.
'Then the bird said, `Nevermore.
'Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."
'But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.
'This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!
'Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!
'Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?
'Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
'Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.
'And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

October 18, 2009

Behind Already.... Gifties Galore!

The Poetic Exchange has been underway for a few days now. Sooooo much fun! Due to long work days and illness (meaning out like a light by 8pm every night this week), I have not been able to post the progress until now. But thanx to a day off and a break in the weather, I was able to take pics... so let me share the booty with you here....

"Once upon a midnight dreary" dear Tami Roth gave to me, a kreepy kool Raven/Edgar necklace! And beautiously wrapped in a star shaped box with scrumptious ribbons! Thank You, Thank You Tami! My daughter Raven has already tried to claim it as her own.... but I'm not relenting.

On the 2nd day of the POEtic Exchange, dear Linda Duffy gave to me, wrapped in a graveyard scene...

...a lovely collage with an excerpt from the sorrowful poem of Edgar's called Annabel Lee. Many thanx Linda!

With a Love that the winged seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.
And the stars never rise
but I see the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

On the 3rd day, with grateful glee, I opened the present dear Saundra James gave to me....

... the staring eye made me a little nervous but I proceeded, with caution.....

and inside I found this precious, hand-made heart pendant! Thank you Saundra!

.... And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst.... Excerpt from The Tell-Tale Heart.

On the 4th day, with a squeal and a jump, I opened the present dear Terrie Lightfoot gave to me...

wrapped in this splendid fabric bag of spooky imagery and yummy colors, this fantastic necklace with a shrine pendant full of detail and delicious color!

With the last line from The Tell-Tale Heart and Edgar on the back, close to my heart. Wow Terry, Thank You!

On the fifth day of the POEtic Exchange, my soul friend, Kelly Snelling, gave to me....

a treat and a treasure and a hand-wrought Raven of my very own! Shiny pearls and powerful turquoise dangles from the Raven. She's carrying them off to her nest of treasures now doubt. Thank You sweet friend!

Kelly well knows my affinity for Raven's. She and I both have a love of birds but Raven's have a mystical and sometimes macabre character that makes them even more interesting. Raven's are known in legends and tales as intuitives, tricksters, messengers, communicators and keepers of deep mysteries, holders of ancestral memories, and are thought to be representative of our shadow selves or the darker side of our psyche. The negative connotation of the Raven has mostly surfaced within the last few hundred years. This may be related to their scavenging the remains of battlefields and so they became an omen of death. I prefer to revere them for their primordial, resourceful and comical qualities. Really, just watch a Raven strut and hop about, it's sure to make you giggle.

I do remember the first time I read Edgar Allan Poe's poem The Raven, in 6th grade I think. Quite the conjurer of fear and madness is he. I remember I read it 3 or 4 times in a row. It chilled me and the images my mind created have stuck with me all these years. Then I read The Tell-Tale Heart and The Pit and the Pendulum, once again I quaked and shaked but still I wanted more. Poe believed that "Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality." Oh, he got that right!

Well, tomorrow is day 6, the day my Altered Guild friends open my gift. How exciting! Hope you enjoy it friends! I'll post more pics tomorrow but for now I leave you with this diddy from Edgar....

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.

October 13, 2009

Let the Opening Begin!

I feel like a kid on Christmas eve... who has to wait 6 christmas eve's before Christmas actually arrives. 13 artists from my Altered Guild group are participating in a POEtic Exchange. We'll open 13 handmade gifts over 13 days in celebration of Edgar Allen Poe. Apparently he had a recent birthday. Sooooo, we're waiting for everyone in the exchange to receive their package of Poe pressies before we start opening them (which is only fair)..... but the waiting is BRUTAL! I have very little patience for such things as waiting to open presents. Obviously I've received my package already.... pure torture! But the wrapping of each gift is so fantastical, it almost makes waiting worthwhile.... Almost! Anyway, when the opening does begin, the gift I made will be opened on day 6. Here is a picture of my gifts all wrapped and tagged. When I can start opening them, I'll share pics of all the pressies here. But for now, we wait......

October 12, 2009

Testing Testing Is this thing on?!

Am I really here?
Really getting it?
I'll believe it when I see it......