a light at thE end of a very long tunnel

I've managed to finish a rough 'sketch' of In the Gardens of Loveplay, my novel in the works. A brief introduction and the first two titled 'chapters' can be read here. A lot more is written than just this small portion, but much of it has been written out of turn (or order) and those parts wouldn't offer much more than uncontextualized snapshots. But I am posting my summary of chapter titles (subject to change, of course). I am also in the process of developing artwork for the project.

Anything you read within parenthesis are notes to myself, and not part of that portion's title.

Here is the Forward:

This is a story of Venice, but not the Venice you may have visited, or once lived, or dreamt of seeing. This is also a story of love. But what else would such a tale be about? It is a tale of conspiracies, jealousies, broken hearts and the binding of two souls, one to the other. Within these pages you will find a world strangely at peace, boats that float on air, and an angel in search of redemption.

"In the Gardens of Loveplay"

Introduction - What We Shall Find

1 - a Priori - A Glimpse of Heaven
2 - The Severing of Ties
3 - Conspiracy of Love
4 - For Love of a Good Wine

Interlude I - The Last Great War (Diary Excerpts, and Poem)

5 - The Confessional
6 - Early Summer
7 - Walking the Gardens
8 - Aldo I
9 - In the House of Her Sisters I
10 - In the House of the Winepresser
11 - In the House of the Gondolier I
12 - Summer
13 - Rome
14 - Aldo II
15 - Pia I

Interlude II - Leptus Magnus (Plus Poem "Dinner Among the Ruins")

16 - The Inn at Vesuvius
17 - Abandoning the Arbor
18 - Early Fall
19 - Pia II
20 - Dinner and a Kiss I
21 - Late Fall
22 - Aldo III
23 - In the House of the Gondolier II
24 - Winter I - Separate Tables
25 - Winter II - Similar Loves
26 - An Exchange of Gifts
27 - Lisbon
28 - Dinner and a Kiss II

Interlude III - The Dance  (A Poem in Four Parts)

29 - In the House of Her Sisters II
30 - In the House of the Gondolier III
31 - The Inn at Vesuvius
32 - Late Winter
33 -The Patron Saint of Lovers

Interlude IV - To Paris - Precursor to Spring

34 - Early Spring
35 - The Peregrination
36 - In the House of the Winepresser II
37 - Return to the Arbor
38 - The Lowering of Masks
39 - The Confessional II
40 - In the Garden of Loveplay  (Plus Poem)
41 - Walking the Garden II
42 - Dinner and  a Kiss III
43 - Aldo IV
44 - The Invitation (to marriage)
45 - Pia III

Interlude V - In the House of Her Sisters III  (Poem)

46 - Preparation and Separation
47 - In the House of the Gondolier III
48 - The Final Veil
49 - Carne Una
50 - There is But One Kiss  (Includes Poem)

Interlude VI - Carnivale

51 - The Floating Boats
52 - In the Gardens of Loveplay
53 - Till the Lanterns All Burned Down
54 - Subter Astralis Caelum

Interlude VII - Perfection in Romance (Includes Poem)

55 - Isabella

Epilogue - Selah

56 - Christien Vernay, from Father to Son
57 - Don't Dream It's Over

Everything is, for the most part, mapped out. There's still some reconciliation to be done, but those points will be minor. The greater task of plotting this eleven year-old monster out is, at long last, complete. Now begins the serious task of linking all the prose presently written with those portions which must fill in all the remaining gaps-- all the poetry is written, all that remains is prose. The artwork will take longer, but I only need a few key pieces to begin the process of publication.

As a side note, notice that there are nine sections including the Introduction and Epilogue. Nine is significant because it represents finality; the end of a matter, or the fulfillment or consummation of a matter. Interestingly enough (to me, at least) my arriving at this number, in this manner, was unintended. When I looked at the number of Interludes I saw seven, then wondered what the significance of nine would be adding the Introduction and Epilogue. The answer, I discovered, was both surprising and curiously apropos. 

None of these chapters (except one of the poems) will exceed ten pages of print, not including artwork, so right now I'm looking at between 350 and 500 pages.

an affair over tEa

An Affair Over Tea

I came for the tea,
Said I. And she
With eyes like kohl
In diamond lit dew
Smiled. Whereas we,
'neath our lush camellia tree,
Sojourn singly, the soul
Of this deep amber brew,
Bids us sit. The bowl,
To its subtle brim,
Where ripples swim
Sings, 'Drink deep of me.'

Our cup is empty
Said I. Then she
Lips blush like figs
Bright softly wet,
On this lets agree...
I'll fill you, if you fill me;
My soft petal to your stout sprig!
Our engagement now set,
'forget the din,' * quoth she
Then plunging ladle deep and up
Smoothly filled my empty cup
Singing, 'Drink deep of me.'

I came for thy tea!
Spoke I. And she
Cup shy to tongue
And a lilt to her gaze
Answer now, I challenge thee...
Lovest thou my heart more than tea?
For though we are yet young
Wilt thou love me all my days?
Stay thy cup! Thy troth unsung!
'Neath stars, moon, sun, camellia bowers
Pledge thou me thy love's endless hours?
Ne'er tiring to drink deeply of me?

Of thee, thy tea?
Asked I. And she 
'Yes' in her eyes,
Come drink of me
Of mine own heady brew!
You sing to me, and I'll to you
Of our live's desires 
'neath the circling sun!
And I smiled, filled with its fires 
I would that our cups never empty
That your lips soft and chastely
Ever desire to drink deep of me!

I came for the tea!
She said. And she,
A dapple of sun
On her soft silk brow,
Smiled, I would drink thee
Daily, nightly, bold and lightly
Oolong, White, Matcha, Pu'er
Hot, cool or chill,
Wherever you are
And her lips kissed the brim of her porcelain cup
Brow softly down, her eyes looking up
Come, drink only of me!
For an age of me!
Forever of me
Come, my love, let's tea!


ELAshley
062411.044007.6
Revisions:
091211.105641.1
102011.125103.6 [including last two stanzas]



Only me?
Then come, let's tea...

-----



* "Tea is drunk to forget the din of the world."

     --T'ien Yiheng

rEtreating to the obscure art of pen and paper

From early afternoon to closing time yesterday, my office computer was running diagnostics, so I was left alone with nothing to do; nothing I could do in terms of work productivity, and I found myself falling back into well-worn reveries - wishing for an upcoming change to hurry. I reached for the keyboard thinking I'd come to this or another blog and write... until I realized again the computer was doing its own thing. I was shut out.

So I took out a pen and paper, immediately wondering how long it had been since I had done that, and began to write... What follows is the result of near two hours of drafts and revisions and I'm still not sure I like it.


We Came

We came to play
We came to sing our troths and vespers
At the closing of the day
We came to dance
We came to toast long love in whispers
At the closing of the day

But will it, my Love
Will that this night should last forever
That these few hours of sharing
Fit as sure as a glove
Take hold, my Love
Thrust through the burning heart of the sun
Don't let go, break away, cease from kissing me
Feel the tides of our love
Fit as tightly as a glove

We came to love
We came to drown in waters changed to wine
In the soft fall of night
We came to learn
We came to search each hill, leaf, and vine
in the soft call of night

But will it, my Love
Will that each touch should last forever
And our long years of sharing
Should defy the coming day
Take hold, my Love
Thrust through to the blinding light of the sun
Don't let go, break away, cease from rocking me
Feel the tides of our love
Fitting tight as a glove


ELAshley
110310.051521.6
Most Recent Revision:
110410.040459.6
110410.042707.6

the promise of shared synchronistic stirs ?

"If It Should"

And if it should happen
that one day you play our song
when I am not there
know that I will hear it
because you are hearing it.
Know that I will not
turn my ears from you
when my chimes ring-
they are yours.
Know that I find instances of you
in distant songs
faint music
old books.
Know that I hear you when I drink
your soft voice
your brush of hair
your tongue full of eden.
And if it should happen
that one day I play our song
when you are not there
know that I will listen for you
as wind listens for doves.

--Michael Gravel


..::(e)::..

If it should indeed. I know this feeling all too well, and have even managed to capture some near-equally fitting imagery myself, but I must give credit to Mr. Gravel for capturing "it" so succinctly... so beautifully.

A sample of my own, you ask? Here... enjoy.

Souls are not bound, as are bodies
To a point of reference
On a geographical map
Nor should they be thought of
As bound by the laws that govern flesh
They are transcendent
Larger than human form
Which cannot hope to contain them
My soul lies beside you as you sleep
And it whispers to me in my dreams
Every wonderful detail
My soul’s arms ~ Such as they are
Hold you throughout the wheeling of stars
In a sky much like my own
We share proximity…

As I said... near-equally (in my own estimation). For the entire poem click here. My stirs, in this offering at least, are not as strong. Here's a link to something stronger... Resonance, and something immensely more satisfying here, The Dance. IT is this last one I feel the most affinity for; it most closely shadows my inner turmoils. It more truly reflects my heart.

in thE [sweatshop]s of loveplay

Okay, so I've dusted off one of three novels in progress-- the one I set aside a couple of years ago. Then, I was about a quarter of the way through... I'm still there.

And it's hard going! I mean, I left all my characters hanging, and there's no telling what they've been up to since, so right now I'm trying to get everyone back where they're supposed to be [insert footage of cat herders], and gather my notes. I'm also trying clean up a few plot problems I have with the beginning. What compels Angelina to sit with Etienne, and why insist they sit in such a way as to allow neither of them a view of the other?

A very fine and particularly scarce wine.

The particulars in specifics? Why is the wine so good? Why is it scarce? And why is Angelina so initially furious at Etienne? Or could it be she's furious with herself? Can the wine be SO good as to make her sit with the man who has bought the very last case available to the public? And why the screen to prevent Etienne from seeing her? And how much exactly DID Etienne shell out for those last twelve bottles?

Most of these questions I already have worked out. The one that's truly been giving me hardships is the question of "Why" the wine is so scarce, and why the last case was available where it was.

You see, it was Angelina's intention to buy that case, but when she allowed three weeks to pass beyond the date she promised to make the purchase, someone else came in looking for the "Angel" he had seen on the fountain's edge, just one hour before, outside a small but prosperous ristorante in Venice.

When the owner's wife realized who Etienne was looking for, she offered him a glass of their best wine. So good was the wine Etienne decided to buy some, but the wife, thinking to set the two up, would only sell the wine by the case... the last remaining case... the one Angelina desired to buy.

Oh! And for those wondering about this post's title? This book I'm writing is titled In the Gardens of Loveplay... Aaaah, beginning to make sense now, isn't it? Sweatshops? Hard work?

Yes, it is.