July 14th, 2012


The Partially Fictious Travel Log of Madeline Ray: Day 10

Another travel day, but this one made easy by the grins of my family.

I had forgotten how strange this northeastern land can get. I grew up here for the most part, used to the strangeness as one is used to air. But now, after long absence, the New England hoodoo buzzes over my skin, raising the tiny hairs.

For example, the inexplicable occurrence of a sink that spouts flowers.
a sink filled with flowers
An indoor swing and a wall of boxes each filled with a different mystery concealed as a book and obfuscated as a painting.
a box of clocks with clocks overlaid on it
A street lamp that serves as a way-station for monsters and gods and a cross-roads for magics both ancient and fay.
old-style street lamp against a sky

There is a reason this land breeds such as Lovecraft and King.

We went down to the beach where many generations had left standing-stones. Some for protection; others as a lure. Standing-stones to tell the time and seasons or stones to predict when the ships would come home. Some made by the young and others by the old and all made to withstand wind and wave and waiting. Some for cursing and others for blessing--all for something. There I built my own standing stones, a gateway between the future and the past. The light shone through and we made the rest of the journey home.
a stone arch, post-and-lintel style

The Partially Fictious Travel Log of Madeline Ray: Day 11

I arrived at the beginning, at the house where I (for the most part) grew up. Being here means:
Finding caches of small stones and shells, left by my father
Lining them up in satisfying patterns
To complement the fruit
Warm blankets and inviting entry ways
Four generations of decorations and trinkets
Dried heather and beach glass
(also to line up in satisfying patterns)
Delicious cheeses
Delicious seafood
Mixed greens straight from a friend's garden
(whose business it is to sell organic vegetables to gourmet chefs in town)
And lining up the cheeses, seafood, and greens in satisfying patterns
Making baby cthulhu jewelery with my sister
Making memories with my grandmother
Making every minute magical with my parents
Having the local spirits of wind and wave and sky smile and remember me well enough to welcome me by name.
rocks and shells lined up in front of a fruit bowlpeeking into a room through curtainscheese and salad