Monday, July 30, 2007
These are a few passages from the faerie tale I had written for my radio show a few years back. It's a very simple thing well at least it was at first. As you will read it begins here as a sweet fantasy.
Later as the story developed all the usual fun stuff came on stage. Demons, the Buddhist Mafia, shape changing, gay unwed daddies, and robbing mob casino's. All that comes later when our hero, and his boyfriend become teenager's.
However for now I hope you'll enjoy the the early stuff. Some fans have asked for it so here it is. Btw the drawing above is of a t-shirt that I designed for my radio show on Wbai. The listeners love my Timmy. Especially when he got older, and he'n his sweetheart became gay teen anarchist Robin Hood's.
'But that's a whole other story. Well, lets begin at the beginning...
Once upon a time there was a boy that was half Angel. Now this "boy" this half Angel lived all alone in a hut. A hut made of autumn leaves, and bright hopes. This is a boy, a child of light that dance's under the moon, and can hear the stars sing.
This half Angel child is Timmy Tom, and he lives in the Blue Desert. These stories, and dreams take place in the Blue Desert. A desert that blooms. Though you may wonder how can there be woods, and streams in a desert. How can there be flowers, and fields of grass among dunes, and stone. Dolphins, and whales that fly, stars that sing or Angels that bless?
Well such thing are in this desert. They are where G-d put them, and that's good enough for me.
Timmy Tom being part Angel was born with special gifts. Not only can he fly as all Angels do, but he can also hear the voice, the "songs" of souls. Every living creature has a soul, and every soul has a song. These songs tells the story of the person, says who they really are.
Timmy Tom can hear these songs. Just as he can hear the wind in the trees or the hymns from the sky. One of the joys of being even part Angelic is that if you wish you can hear creation sing.
One of the happiest times for Timmy are clear summer nights. When all the stars of the eternal heavens sparkle down. Timmy Tom has counted many of them, and knows the brightest by name.
When all is right in the Blue Desert, the desert with so many things in it. When all is right, the sand, the dunes, the stones. The grass, the trees, the lakes, and sea's, and all the beings living on or within them,..sing!
They sing each from their souls, and Timmy Tom can hear them. He hears, and sings with them. They together sing the anthems of the joy of simply 'being'.
Timmy Tom lives. He is happy to live, and loves all that is around, and within him. This is enough for Timmy. He is in the World, and to him the World is Good.
As a soul's songs says who a person is. A soul's Dreams say what they want to be. That's why people see Angels in Dreams. They're watching, and sometimes they guide.
Timmy Tom dreams.
Timmy once dreamed that he was a tree. He dreamed that he could feel his roots growing deep into the world. He could feel his wide leaves, and his thick bark. He could sense birds nesting in his trunk. Timmy Tom could feel the wind, and rain as it blew through his branchs.
Another time he dreamed that he was a rabbit. A wild grey rabbit hopping in the underbrush. leaping through wide grassy fields. Then later resting with his family in a warm cozy bough.
Timmy Tom has also dreamed of his mother. Timmy's mother is a true Angel. She is made of color, light, and love. In these very special dreams he's shown many worlds. Some so beautiful that he weeps at the memory of them. Others so terrible that his heart pounds when they come to mind.
Timmy's mother takes him on these dream journey's for a purpose. She shows him both Paradise, and Hades so he would understand the joy of the one, and the fearful temptations of the other.
Timmy Tom sometimes wish's he were a normal boy. He wish'd he had a human mother, and father, and lived in a house. He even wish's that he went to school, and learned all those silly things that people thought were so important.
Timmy imagined growing up. 'Becoming an ordinary man, and having adventures in the real world. Maybe he'd become a sailor, and travel on a ship with great billowing sails.
Better yet he could be a clown! A clown in a carnival that traveled all over the world. Timmy also thought of love, and being loved. Though very young he was still part Angel. This touch of Paradise opened his eyes early so he knew the power of a yearning heart.
Half Angels are mortal. They live long, very long lives, but like cats, ladybugs, and men,..they eventually die. So Timmy wondered about growing old.
Timmy Tom looked ahead. He closed his wings over his face, and saw the future. His future. He was in a strange land. He was sitting beneath a tree in spring bloom, but he was old. Very, very old.
He listened to his soul his future self, and felt joy. He was old, yet happy to be so. Happy to have been blessed with so much life. His wings parted. The years fell away. The sun was shining, and a warm wind blew from the blue dunes.
Time pass's even here. The sun, and moon have chased each other through the seasons. From ice to thaw to bloom to fall. Late autumn has come again to the Blue Desert.
The half Angel sat beneath an ancient oak. The wind blew carrying the last of summer's leaves, and the first of winter's snow. The sky was a pale rose. Clouds shaped like wild ponies galloped overhead shedding a light snow as they went.
Another season of light was coming to an end. All of the creatures of the Blue World prepared for short days, and long cold nights. While Timmy sat his friends the sprites appeared. These gentle beings rejoiced in every season.
These beings were bright little wisps of amber, yellow green, and orange. They first showed themselves as a mist of shifting colors, but then separated into their individual selves. Bright points of light danced around, and over the little Angel.
Happy living sparks poked about his wings, tickled his nose, and flew around his head making a glittering halo, and they sang. The lights sang to Timmy. Oh how kindly, and sweet were their songs.
Timmy the half Angel child closed his eyes. He lost himself in the Blue Desert's woven prayers of wind, leaves, and first snow.
The winds were colder now. The skies was flinty. The wheel of seasons continued to turn. Winter has come to the Blue Desert.
Timmy Tom the half Angel his aura glowing softly in the afternoon twilight walked by "Tea Kettle" pond.
The boy walked along the spout. Lights. The half Angel saw lights under the ice!
As he watched intricate weaves of light covered the surface. There were glittering webs of indigo, crimson, orange, clouds of emerald. Waves of silver, and currents of gold. Timmy Tom knelt, and picked up a small piece of this cold fire. He held the glowing sliver in his hand, and it spoke to him.
He saw that as the ice melted in the warmth of his palm it spoke. The ice sang, and laughed!
The joy of Faeriekind, their stories, and songs are not carried away by the wind, and forgotten. They live on in nature. They are welcomed like rain, and sunshine. They are taken in as nourishment by the living earth.
This is why some say they have heard trees speak, brooks laugh or stones sing. The magic, the faerie magic lives in them. Timmy Tom, heavens stepchild, held the melting ice close, and listened.
Timmy heard a song sung months ago in high summer. A lullaby song by a faerie mother to her new baby. Her words, her music had entered the pond, and now is heard again as the shard melted.
"THE MUSIC BOX"
Timmy loves snowy days. At such times it seems as if all the world is in quiet reflection. The rabbits in their burrows the bears in their caves, the dragons atop their mountains, and Timmy Tom in his warm hut of bright hopes.
Outside the wind sculps the snow into delicate drifts. Inside the young half Angel was curled in front of his little fireplace. He watched as the sparks flew, and danced above the logs.
The burning embers became tangles of birds in summer, trees swaying in the wind sand spouts in the far desert. Once Timmy saw the sparks become a ship. A sleek brigantine with great white sails emblazoned with moons, and shooting stars.
These fire visions, would sometimes move him to retrieve his most treasured possession. The music box. This beautifully carved, and enchanted instrument was from his Mother the Angel of the northern lights.
Carefully Timmy took his gift from its place on the cupboard, and set it before the hearth. He then sat down spreading wide his radiant red wings. Timmy lifted the lid turned the key and listened.
It was music like no other! If rose's could sing this would be their song. If honeydew melons could recite this would be their voice. If spring grass could chant this would be their prayer.
As the snow danced in the wind the half Angel sat before his glowing hearth, and listened to his mothers special gift, and watched as the embers created world, after world.