17 results for 'magic'
Magicians often use sleight-of-hand to fool your eyes so they don’t see what is right in front of them. You miss how the trick is done, and are awed by what you’ve seen...because of what you missed. Unfortunately, this is an everyday occurrence in life, notably with the news media, both on television and in print. It’s awesome to watch, but also sad as so many are taken in by the parlor tricks.
Tuesday, July 17th (2012) edition of the Boston Herald is a prime example of what I’m talking about. Let me preface what I’m about to say by unequivocally stating that I am not a fan of the Governor... (more)
the place I see is special;
a block of stone or wending path
built by many hands or feet.
and in my dream, I dream of this:
a vibration, scent or residue,
from pasts that are long lost.
till when I wake the dream takes shape,
wrought of violence, longing or regret:
the sum of much, so little left.
I wish I could inhabit a place where I can be eternally delimited by the color green—warmth enveloping body and soul. I wouldn’t mind if humidity soaks the dust of this land I dream of; or if perhaps, it is the heat of the dessert what nurtures it… if only I could stretch out my arms and feel this freedom running through my veins all year around.
I live in the land of winds. I am a prisoner of ice; a fire moth trapped within frozen blaze-like fingers made of ice. Iciness and the rawness of a land that’s more accepting than I am. That’s where I shall dwell. If you look outside my... (more)
A band of strong thunderstorms blew through our valley yesterday evening. Wind... wind is a mystery to me. Wind whips things around and slashes on trees and roofs and things, and you get blown around like an autumn leaf...
I find strong winds unnerving; yet, there is something powerful and mysterious and exhilarating in their nature that pulls me to it... I harbor the spirit of the storm chaser in me—riding the air in my long skirts, dancing atop swirling clouds as if in a ballroom...
Child-like delightfully jumping up and down. Ridiculous. Laughing my lungs out; as if some invisible... (more)
Dracula: Hearts of Stone
A tale of magic, romance and fangs. This adventure is sprinkled with humor.
This MIGHT be a little like Dracula if written by J. K. Rowling. It’s a place where magic and vampires interweave for an exciting adventure.
We start with a shiny new pot of boiling water and add too many evil vampires, and not enough of the good biters. Toss in one suicidal Dracula; add a cup of mayhem and a dash of romance. Oh yes, and a pinch of mirth. Stir lovingly and you have a new novel by A. J. Gallant. If it sounds like the recipe for you then you must read Dracula:... (more)
It’s been cloudy for the last few days with a steady on-and-off drizzle that have kept things watered down, and the garden is already looking wonderful. Rose bushes are starting to put forth their first leaves—green and supple, reminding me that soon my little world will be perfumed by lovely roses. What else can one ask for?
I am content; like the trees rooted in this garden I so love; and I have been busy painting all my garden statues and fountains. The sound of tickling water has started to serenade my mornings again and the Western Tanager has returned home. Soon I will be... (more)
...junk jewelry and love wearing my earrings and necklaces wherever I go. Particularly lovely to me are jewelry that resembles shiny stars hanging from my ears and itty bitty flowers around my neck. They give me some sorts of a mystical status. At least, that’s the way I feel when I wear my magical earrings.
Of course, as you would imagine, these earrings are not really magical, but I just like to call them that because that’s how they make me feel inside every time I wear them—a sparkle of magic swirling all inside and around me!
The other day, as I was putting on my... (more)
...stop for the soul. And thus, it has been raining here all day today, and the early morning is wrapped in a gray mist that seems to be traveling the garden’s floor in some type of mystical waves; like sleepy phantoms.
And yesterday, in the garden, the air snapped with anticipation as magic evolved in the form of gentle flakes of snow. Like an unexpected apparition—snow; out of the bosom of the air it came, silent, and soft, and slow. Big fluffy flakes danced and meandered about the garden in the form of tiny delicate clouds; like a veil from heaven, it rested in the... (more)
... pages, this is our heroine’s reality as she finds herself in a land called Avall. Her body is bruised, she is confused about how she got there, and she cannot remember anything about her life, not even her own name. She meets a beautiful yet timid human named Eloryn who has the ability to cast magic spells.
Eloryn’s unauthorized use of magic has her on the run from the wizard hunters who will not rest until she is arrested. Despite her own predicament, Eloryn decides to help this lost girl with pink-streaked hair, piercings, and ripped jeans find her way home. First, Eloryn gives... (more)
...a week ago. They announced themselves with their usual wailing call; an enchanting “kih-kih-kih” song that seemed to stretch throughout the garden in some dark menacing way. I was bewitched by them and had been eagerly waiting for this moment… And to think that I almost missed all the magic!
This incident reminded me of my need to be more mindful to my surrounding; to open my eyes and see; really see and appreciate life as it unfolds around me. Life is but a succession of fleeting moments; moments that may be telling us something significant, yet so often they would pass... (more)
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