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--- parn:dilzio [2013-04-23 13:52] – nik
+++ parn:dilzio [2013-04-23 14:28] – [Hello world!] nik
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 --alchumilla
+====Moondrop Potion====
+Tue Sep 25, 2012 5:13 pm
+(Blue Moon, Elliptical Patabotanical Time 39488:102, Era of Vampire Princess Mildred's Pink Dental Floss)
+I distill my potion beside forest pools in the first light of dawn, under the slowly sinking silvery moon of late summer. In these forests I collect wild verbena and lady’s mantle, which grow in the hidden dells and culverts where falling droplets of moonlight congeal. These droplets of alchemical moon water can be preserved using a delicate crystalline apparatus. At a moment just after the false dawn, when the coolest, palest colour of the day filters through the leaves of the forest, I infuse these droplets with scents that are condensations of dreams and memories, and mingle them with the volatile essences of verbena; then my potion is almost complete. I prepare another vial of concentrated morning dew, condensed from the twilight mists of the forest just before dawn. Served in the right way, I hope that these substances can imbue the thoughts of those who take them with inner landscapes.
+Two drops of the potion are dripped onto an Alchemilla leaf held in the cupped hand of the drinker. (These leaves must be folded into the protective pages of a book made from ancient parchment, to preserve their sustaining properties.) At the same time as the potion is drunk, the elixir of concentrated morning dew must be sprayed in a fine mist above the drinker’s head. Those who partake of these substances will catch a fleeting but piquant vision - an awakening landscape of Viriditas.
+Amidst the hurly-burly of the picnic carnival in the Citadelpark, a mysterious alchemical landscape started to emerge, somehow woven in between and behind the hectic antics of the tinker-dandies and baffled but curious visitors and passers-by. It could not be seen or touched from the outside, but unfolded in the collective mind of those who partook of the moondrop potion ritual, and perhaps spread by osmosis into the minds of those observant enough to notice. Perhaps this landscape was nourished by the intermittent drizzle that fell over the park. The landscape was strangely similar for many, but occasionally contained incongruent bricolages and peculiar densities. It was probably somewhere very far away and not quite of this world, although many of its images emerged from nearby and intimate places.
+The landscape is a picture filled with leaves, where forest rain falls in the first chill of autumn; a misty time of day with traces of humidity; damp, fresh, growing, and wet on the face. There are pools of moonlit water into which you plummet, pulled upwards and downwards at once and sucked ever deeper into a place where you can just be, behind the whirlwinds and finally at peace with the daemons. Creatures faint in a lemony scent, and sometimes the taste of peppermint accompanies problems with technical parts and nearly-destroyed nature. Somewhere else you catch glimpses of a silvery metal in straight, angular, and machinic shapes, amidst waving grass and endless fields of fairy floss, suffused in a sweet, pinkish colour and tasting of honey. Further away, perhaps, you come to the shore of a place that may be Italy, where intensely comfortable boats float in the warm twilight. Further still, and you reach a lush, nearly deserted island where ritual initiations are taking place; you want to swim in the warm waters. In the early morning you waken to the blue, orange, violet and purple pastels of another dawn, in the mild warmth of crisp, sweet sea air, smelling slightly of fish. Or maybe this landscape is nowhere else but your parent’s garden in summertime, a bright place where time no longer matters.
+But then you’re abruptly shaken from your reverie by a feline creature covered in golden hair riding by on a bicycle with a million spokes, her hair growing longer with a lingering aftertaste and innumerable small creatures emerging from all surfaces.
+--alchumilla
+====First day setting up in the abandoned candy store====
+Tue Sep 25, 2012 5:12 pm
+(Sturgeon Moon, Parallel Holiday of Incandescent Flowers, 293856 RPT)
+We have finally started setting up in the abandoned candy store. Our new laboratory is located in a big room at the end of a long, narrow corridor. Cloudy light filters down through large skylights high above, suffusing everything in eery muted whiteness. The strangest thing about this room is that there are no plants in here yet. They will arrive tomorrow; today we have to set up the furniture and struggle to make sense the first pieces of botanical translation machinery our assistants have found for us: scouring as they have the peculiar shops and fleamarkets of a nearby city for useful equipment.
+http://www.flickr.com/photos/foam/7928987486/
+http://www.flickr.com/photos/foam/7928990466/
+Our assistants are difficult to comprehend and often exasperating, causing us no end of trouble. Their typical behavioural cycles seem to alternate between mad bursts of frenetic activity, then states of exhaustion bordering on catatonia. Due to their limited communicative ability (they mostly communicate by human speech and can’t understand our transvocal Lingua Ignota in the least), they find it difficult to coordinate activities, and consequently their work often ends up in a terrible muddle. Their misunderstandings lead to an odd kind of warfare, which culminates in their ceasing to function in any meaningful way. And when two of them – well-meaning but apparently clueless – turned up out of the blue with garish models of a golden fish and deer – totally unrelated to our mission – we had to conclude that some of them probably don’t even understand what we’re trying to achieve. Yet if we are to progress in our researches on this world, we must also attempt to make sense of its human inhabitants…
+Herbert Taraxi has faced many challenges in trying to devise interfaces between the stagnant technologies of this world and the sentient alchemy he is most familiar with. He continues to complain that the voices of plants are almost impossible to detect using available microphones. And so he spent the afternoon curled up, brooding behind the sofa, impossible to rouse.
+--alchumilla
+====Hello world!====
+Tue Sep 11, 2012 4:18 pm
+Welcome, one and all.
+--[[:/user/manmi]]