15 Januar, 2018   In the House beneath the silent sleeping trees in the dead of Winter.

    Most days I sit down with a cup of coffee in the dinning room and type on various typewriters.  I write about what I saw in my dreams.  Sometimes I write a creative piece.  I will spend the next few mornings drafting an outline for a novel.  I have read that most people that are of a literary nature have at least one book in them.  I have actually created over the years volumes of typed journals. I pick a machine each day and make a notation at the corner top left of each sheet stating the time, date, location and machine being used.  There are at least 230 machines to select from.  Of those I would rate perhaps 30 to 40 of the typewriters low grade.  The others are superlative.  I keep information cards with each machine.  When it was last used, the defects or how well it works.  I like keeping track of my efforts.  I have found some machines in the collection that have not been used for as long as 8 years.  I find it interesting that some of these operate as well as they did almost a decade earlier. I note that if one were to attempt using a computer or word processing device with 10 years idle time they would have a difficult time.  Most of the typewriters I use are from the 1930s, 40s and 50s.  Some are desk models. Some are portables.  There are some that weigh as much as 35 pounds and others that weigh half as much.  My favorite brand of typewriter to use is Olympia manufactured in Whilhelmshaven Germany. These are followed by Adler, Smith Corona, Underwood,  Royal (especially the desk top models) and the the ever not so appealing Remington.  Don't get me wrong, Remington makes a good machine.  I  use them  frequently. My complaint with their portables from the l950s is that they are very difficult to return to  the locking pins in their protective cases.  

    So this is what I am doing in the midst of Winter as a storm dumps more of of the white stuff on the ground outside.  In the future I intend to write more. It was one of my New Years promises to myself.  Tomorrow I begin that novel.  I hope to report on its progress in the months to come.  Until then, keep out of trouble, avoid the authorities, and leave the city immediately.  Oh,and do not eat animals if you can help it.  In the basic scheme of things, if it has a face, don't eat it.  Got That?!

Living In Irvington (aka; Halloween Town)

We have now lived in Irvington Indiana for one complete year.  The house was in a state of ruin when we took it off the market in November 2015.  On February 23 of 2016 we moved in permanently.  The house was still under construction and dust was a common daily friend.  I have known Irvington all my life.  My Father was born here (1940) and he met my mother whilst attending Howe High School. They were wed in 1959.   My grandparents George and Barbara came to Irvington in 1928 and they eventually passed on in the confines of this small historic community.  Grandfather lived to be 100 which means he spent 73 years of his life here. 

    Irvington is one of Indiana's largest historic districts with 78% of the homes being of original construction built prior to the 1960s.  Our home was built in 1915.  On this note it has not been common to encounter what one could call manifestations.  I have witnessed lights turning on in the middle of the night and have tested repeatedly how it could have happened only to come away with a conclusion that it was by other than human hand.  I have seen shadows shifting on walls, dishes to fly from cupboards and at the same time accompanied by howling sounds unearthly just beyond the walls of this house.  There have been many times both in day and night when 3 knocks have been loudly heard, by both we humans here and our dogs.  The property is fenced in.  When I go to answer I have only a empty yard and there would have been no way a normal entity could have retreated so quickly from this property.  Ana has heard ascending footsteps whilst she is in bed, clearly approaching yet nothing to be seen or call answered when she had hoped it was me returning from work.  She has also clearly witnessed figures ascending the steps whilst sitting in the living room.  She also heard singing here as well.  All these events could be explained by anyone with logical analysis.  I merely note these events, record them in this blog and will continue to do so.  I do not worry about what is happening here.  I would like to know what or who it is.  

    There are four books in my library dealing with this region. This small artist and former university community of ancient homes, trees and shadows.  I was reading about the 1912 passenger train wreck on the old B&O rail line here in Irvington.  The accident happened in the wee hours of the night, on November 13.  There were 17 deaths from the collision of a passenger train hitting a waiting freight train in the side track of this line.  Evidently a switch accessing the side track had been left opened.  The impact was close to 40 mph.  I did not know the exact location of this wreck and started  noting the photographs of the ruined cars with people gathered around in the aftermath.  The accident area was between Audubon Road and Arlington Road.  That is the approximate location of our house.  Yesterday I found a map of Irvington showing the siding switch location which was directly behind our house, a stones throw or 200 feet from the mainline track.  I have often wondered why a community so invested with historic plagues and monuments (including the bust of Washington Irving at Circle Park, for whom this town was named) had not placed a memorial honoring those lost in the wreck.  It was one of the worst train accidents here in Indianapolis and here in Irvington it is completely ignored or mostly forgotten.  I mean people know of the wreck yet it is not remembered on the anniversary day.  Who is to say if there are remnants of psychic energy left behind by those who perished so suddenly and were also eventually forgotten in the clutter of times events.  I would like for them to be remembered.  

    I will continue to post here on events other than natural in times to come.  It has been a long road to this point in time.  The era of the House of Blue (circa 1969 to 2015) has ended. I now dwell here in Halloween Town with Ana Maria.  And it is obviously inspirational if you enjoy that sort of thing. Ana told me that she has never seen a town so vested in the darker side of life (All Hallows Eve, Ghost tours and Witches Dances, etc) I have resumed writing and will be publishing my art works here as well.  Being a semi primitive person lacking computer skills, I am not yet able to publish photos yet will soon acquire this ability to do so.  I wish all a fair Spring to come as these last odd days of the Winter that wasn't soon fade into memory. 

    

Spring 2014 Full Circle

This is Georgia font.  I think we will go with this one in bold for those of you who have definite eye strain.  I am back for now, and for the considerable time to come.  I hope what is placed here is regarded merely as a flight of fancy, a glimpse into a lonely mans mind who is constantly seeking answers to the questions in life, those he thought at one time were answered and are now only becoming lost in the sea of time as the shifting realities of life on Terra are never what they seem.

 

My elemental clock.

Autumn 2013, the awakening and thoughts of future endeavors.

Merricat

Merricat,  A friend who has inspired me for 36 years now.  I met her in April of 1979.  A friend introduced to me her writings.  Poems and fragments which caused my heart to stir.  I  fell in love with this woman even before seeing her at our school nearby.  I saw in her an intellect that stirred those dark embers of my own poetic voice, my heart of romanc and the stars.   Because of Merricat I am the person I am today.  It is because of her that I grew to appreciate so many alternative views, to think beyond normal perimeters of standard thought.  She gave me new directions and I continue to work in these, finding beauty, music and hope in a world to me at times overwhelming.  I thank you dear Merricat for opening my mind and giving me hope to dream.  And to this day I dream in the midst of Aprils grey leaden skies and our hills of barren brown peppered with the first hints of green.   A time to rise again, to take pen to hand and compose.  I hope to resume full scale blog entries along with my hand written journals and those typed as well.  I am the archivist, the artist and bard.  I am the dreamer and Merricat is my dream.  My muse and keeper of sacred memory.    I dedicate this spring to her in celebration of her showing me the path which I continue to travel.  And along the way I shall leave a mark or two in the shape of drawings, tales told and perhaps even a poem or prose piece inspired by my Goddess of the Moon. 

http://machinesoflovinggrace.com/olympias.htm

http://youtu.be/HyVIr7d-vCs