tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9609945463220055812024-02-20T12:25:38.757+11:00Zanzibar's SonglinesGemma Wisemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17466540188839321484noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960994546322005581.post-61785066449169511972021-08-19T07:32:00.003+10:002021-08-19T07:34:02.372+10:00I'm late, I'm late...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-GYFQ70Xya5Fga9iRjsDIp0iIMosWhYw2j-6LGhyomJxvJ7xd9zuO8OMQ-DLtOqrAje-npxTKeDXHwlbn5ScVWMbD_q0Jv2asblTuho4Q67ToVwRhzu2W_33tZaxmBKm4NT8yR6DtIQE/s2048/2017-10-07.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-GYFQ70Xya5Fga9iRjsDIp0iIMosWhYw2j-6LGhyomJxvJ7xd9zuO8OMQ-DLtOqrAje-npxTKeDXHwlbn5ScVWMbD_q0Jv2asblTuho4Q67ToVwRhzu2W_33tZaxmBKm4NT8yR6DtIQE/w640-h360/2017-10-07.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div>"Oh my fur and whiskers! I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!"
"I'm late, I'm late! For a very important date! No time to say 'hello, goodbye,' I'm late, I'm late, I'm late!"<div><br /></div><div>These may be the words of Alice's White Rabbit, but I'm going to borrow them, just for now...</div><div><br /></div><div>Zanzibar (and I) have been hit hard by the covid-19 pandemic chaos - as have many...</div><div><br /></div><div>2020 is a blur of worries and fears with a few glimmers of light...2021 has not improved the situation...Nothing has really changed...But still we keep walking...and walking...</div><div><br /></div><div>Zanzibar too abandoned all thought of travelling afar...He hated to think he could be a silent transmitter of this deadly virus...</div><div><br /></div><div>So he resorted to doing something he never expected to do...His new adventures took the form of connecting with Twitter and seeing the world through others...how they lived in their own little world...</div><div><br /></div><div>He saw people facing fire and floods, seeking refuge from vicious regimes...But he also saw people offering the wonder of their pets, scenic countrysides and funny anecdotes...These people tried so hard to lift the spirit of others...He admired that...</div><div><br /></div><div>He also knew this writer lost her little furball Shadow recently...He knew how hard that was for her...her last companion...But he knew love never fades...He knew he must step up...</div><div><br /></div><div>And so it was, he watched over this writer...encouraging her to offer the light of distractions, interesting discoveries and, of course, there had to be some poetry in there... The creative impulse helps to nourish a healthy spirit...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><b>
HAPPY BIRTHDAY RAY</b><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SOkBglLzOJKxT1WF9amb1A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/SV59B7qFzRI/AAAAAAAAkMw/w7shDB-nGVU/s144/Wizard_on_felt.jpg" /></a></div>Gemma Wisemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17466540188839321484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960994546322005581.post-78198736542545564852020-08-16T17:08:00.002+10:002020-08-16T17:08:24.509+10:00moving on...<div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Dusk @ The Carrington" height="160" src="https://www.thecarrington.com.au/imagesDB/header_image/CHExterior3banner.jpeg.jpg" width="640" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">A few rugged years have passed in Zanzibar's life...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It all began with fires...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Fires through his beloved mountain...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Fires stamping out all the green</div><div style="text-align: center;">all the sanctuary</div><div style="text-align: center;">of his little retreat...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">He felt he did not need to seek a desert to wander</div><div style="text-align: center;">the desert had come to him...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">a not so welcome visitor...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Where did 3 years go...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It had all become a blur of </div><div style="text-align: center;">numb nights and</div><div style="text-align: center;">numb days</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">alone</div><div style="text-align: center;">lost</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Where DID a whole 3 years go...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">He so longed to be that wizard</div><div style="text-align: center;">he once was...</div><div style="text-align: center;">but that could never be</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">he was no longer that wizard</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">he needed to find a new pathway...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">but what</div><div style="text-align: center;">where</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">and most of all</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">how</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">it hit him hard today</div><div style="text-align: center;">his creator's birthday</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">he just couldn't let it pass </div><div style="text-align: center;">again</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">something needed to be done</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">his creator had been a wild child</div><div style="text-align: center;">that few really knew</div><div style="text-align: center;">he had a gift</div><div style="text-align: center;">that he rarely shared</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">a storyteller</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">and Zanzibar knew that without him</div><div style="text-align: center;">he, Zanzibar, wouldn't even exist</div><div style="text-align: center;">(not publicly anyway)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">what the storyteller didn't know</div><div style="text-align: center;">was that Zanzibar had always kept an eye on him</div><div style="text-align: center;">always</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Zanzibar remembered Katoomba days</div><div style="text-align: center;">in the Blue Mountains</div><div style="text-align: center;">he saw his creator</div><div style="text-align: center;">explore the secret crevices of the town</div><div style="text-align: center;">poky art galleries</div><div style="text-align: center;">dishevelled bookshops</div><div style="text-align: center;"><img alt="The Carrington in Snow" height="160" src="https://www.thecarrington.com.au/imagesDB/header_image/CHSnowBanner11.jpg" width="640" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">and one special day</div><div style="text-align: center;">when he explored old Carrington Hotel in the main street...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">my creator danced up the old, crumbling stone steps</div><div style="text-align: center;">past a bronze statue of Pan</div><div style="text-align: center;">and peered through smeared windows...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">he saw workmen inside...</div><div style="text-align: center;">new timbers</div><div style="text-align: center;">carried past sad old grand stairways...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">he longed to go inside and explore...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">it was then my creator told her</div><div style="text-align: center;">how he imagined this grand old lady</div><div style="text-align: center;">in the years after 1883...</div><div style="text-align: center;">especially the early 1900's</div><div style="text-align: center;">she must have shone with beauty</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">he mourned that she became derelict from the 1980's</div><div style="text-align: center;">neglected</div><div style="text-align: center;">unloved</div><div style="text-align: center;">undervalued</div><div style="text-align: center;">forgotten</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">but now he felt excited</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">perhaps the old lady</div><div style="text-align: center;">could be grand again</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It was then that I saw my creator in a new way...</div><div style="text-align: center;">I could see these very attributes in him...</div><div style="text-align: center;">to some extent...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">His blatant showmanship</div><div style="text-align: center;">his raw logic...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">That wasn't really my creator at all...</div><div style="text-align: center;">He was insecure...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Not confident that what skills he had really mattered...</div><div style="text-align: center;">He feared being small...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And so he performed</div><div style="text-align: center;">dreaming of and activating weekend escapes</div><div style="text-align: center;">taking her with him</div><div style="text-align: center;">showing her evidence of his inner worlds</div><div style="text-align: center;">that he could not put into his own words...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">That explains why he never wrote down his stories...</div><div style="text-align: center;">That explains why she determined</div><div style="text-align: center;">that somehow</div><div style="text-align: center;">she would write them for him</div><div style="text-align: center;">that somewhere</div><div style="text-align: center;">someone</div><div style="text-align: center;">may notice</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Aaaah</div><div style="text-align: center;">Now I'm smiling</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I see the new Zanzibar</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">She and I will create together</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">(as really we have been doing for a few years now...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">silly me)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>HAPPY BIRTHDAY RAY</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SOkBglLzOJKxT1WF9amb1A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/SV59B7qFzRI/AAAAAAAAkMw/w7shDB-nGVU/s144/Wizard_on_felt.jpg" /></a></div>
Gemma Wisemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17466540188839321484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960994546322005581.post-38053474874704500182017-08-20T17:17:00.002+10:002017-08-20T17:21:48.715+10:00Zanzibar had lost his adventure spirit...<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO-Y9cBpGd27PG53IWr1SXz7dN45-Z3a9AWB7myQhxEHXcGKBO0wCnraoTdEqatsAO65CFL_FI4bAYAp0IMCml6zzA33bi7nMlZzRsbDBgt565U1fc5OJXgm45RfUjqFMLUBT4m0G7AM4/s1600/B650F6FF-4A4E-475B-86A6-D66A888304D4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="771" data-original-width="1080" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO-Y9cBpGd27PG53IWr1SXz7dN45-Z3a9AWB7myQhxEHXcGKBO0wCnraoTdEqatsAO65CFL_FI4bAYAp0IMCml6zzA33bi7nMlZzRsbDBgt565U1fc5OJXgm45RfUjqFMLUBT4m0G7AM4/s640/B650F6FF-4A4E-475B-86A6-D66A888304D4.jpg" width="640" /></a>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Zanzibar had lost his adventure spirit...<br />
For some wintry days now, he had been unwell...<br />
lacking the energy to move ...<br />
He just wanted to sit...<br />
in his favourite old rocking chair...<br />
on his tiny verandah...<br />
And stare at far horizons...<br />
<br />
And sleep...<br />
<br />
on one of these many days...<br />
as he rocked away gently...<br />
Zanzibar's eyes happened to drift down to the little rock garden near his doorway...<br />
He stopped...<br />
<br />
Strange...<br />
He had never noticed water gathering like a little pool round the rocks before...<br />
<br />
<br />
And there was his little tortoise friend<br />
eyeing him<br />
as if sending bubble thoughts his way...<br />
<br />
<i>At last you notice me...</i><br />
<i>Sometimes...</i><br />
<i>The beauty you seek and the inspiration for great thoughts</i><br />
<i>can be right here...</i><br />
<i>Your horizons begin </i><br />
<i>right here</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>at home...</i><br />
<br />
Zanzibar slowly smiled...<br />
and saluted his little friend...<br />
<br />
<br />
and suddenly<br />
Zanzibar felt an exciting urge to plan<br />
<br />
a fresh journey...<br />
<br />
<br />
a journey<br />
on water...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Happy (belated) Birthday Ray<br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SOkBglLzOJKxT1WF9amb1A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/SV59B7qFzRI/AAAAAAAAkMw/w7shDB-nGVU/s144/Wizard_on_felt.jpg" /></a></div>
Gemma Wisemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17466540188839321484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960994546322005581.post-6234299547391738952016-08-16T19:00:00.000+10:002017-08-20T16:56:13.251+10:00Zanzibar at the zoo...<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBsI4RwTDH43en720VUU0e6m82UifhSjCqfKFP5GIlts2j1rQ0wq-vGRswODiFcPy6ISJbhvWMzVmXu-89VK1yfJI2_4IbmiGbB70Dl2hdSoSzK4JMI2fcGCZTyvpPlU6VMm6tdWodIpY/s1600/2016.81.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBsI4RwTDH43en720VUU0e6m82UifhSjCqfKFP5GIlts2j1rQ0wq-vGRswODiFcPy6ISJbhvWMzVmXu-89VK1yfJI2_4IbmiGbB70Dl2hdSoSzK4JMI2fcGCZTyvpPlU6VMm6tdWodIpY/s640/2016.81.jpg" width="640" /></a>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Zanzibar had not wandered a zoo for a long time...<br />
In fact, he was not so sure he had ever been to a zoo...<br />
The thought of wild animals<br />
caged<br />
was not one of has favourite visions...<br />
But he thought he would give the zoo a try...<br />
<br />
The zoo was crowded<br />
with people...<br />
school groups<br />
Mums and prams<br />
littered the wide expanse of lawn...<br />
Zanzibar guessed<br />
that's what people do at lunch-time...<br />
just hang around and have a bite to eat...<br />
<br />
But he moved on...<br />
There were many diverging pathways...<br />
one was thick with tall bamboo<br />
The sign said <i>tigers</i>...<br />
So tigers he would see...<br />
He stared... he searched... and stared some more...<br />
No tigers...<br />
Zanzibar smiled...<br />
This was how it should be...<br />
Wild animals marking their own wild world<br />
minus human intervention...<br />
He had hope...<br />
<br />
He took another pathway...<br />
It was like wandering through a lush forest...<br />
With glassed viewing areas by water...<br />
And there was a pygmy hippo<br />
quietly drinking...<br />
It seemed the glass provided a barrier and a connection...<br />
No bars...<br />
No feeling of cages...<br />
Again Zanzibar smiled...<br />
<br />
He wandered on...<br />
There were the cute meerkats<br />
and lemurs<br />
Romping around the rocks and greens of their world...<br />
They seemed at peace...<br />
Yet somehow<br />
He had not found that magic spark he sought...<br />
That was...<br />
Until he saw the long-tailed furry beauty of<br />
The colobus monkeys...<br />
<br />
He watched their antics for a while...<br />
One was on a post<br />
teasing the other below<br />
his long tail swishing and tickling the other's face...<br />
The one below constantly tried to grab the tail<br />
but the teaser whisked it out of reach every time...<br />
Zanzibar felt a glow of happiness<br />
Melting slowly and sweetly<br />
Through his limbs...<br />
Yes...<br />
They are content here...<br />
No hunters seeking their fur...<br />
No endangered habit<br />
As in their original African home...<br />
Here...<br />
They have a chance to live<br />
for as long as 30 years...<br />
As they are meant to live...<br />
<br />
Then...<br />
One colobus monkey turned<br />
And seemed to seek his eyes...<br />
The deeply grooved face<br />
The white beard...<br />
The moment when the ancients<br />
Spoke...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
It was time to leave<br />
<br />
Zanzibar once again passed the lawn crammed with people<br />
And bustling with chatter...<br />
But a flash of black and white caught his eye...<br />
He turned<br />
And near a pram<br />
In a stream of sunlight<br />
Was a child<br />
Dancing around<br />
Freely<br />
<br />
In a cute<br />
Black and white<br />
Bearded<br />
Jump suit<br />
<br />
<br />
Moral #1: All cages may not be cages...<br />
Moral #2: Wisdom can be cloaked in magic...<br />
Moral #3: Keep your eyes wide open...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>NOTES</b><br />
Today I visited Melbourne Zoo.<br />
I thought I would take you with me, knowing how much you loved animals.<br />
The lion, notably was turned to his own world.<br />
But he was there.<br />
<br />
This may not be one of your original stories.<br />
The memory details of those magical dreams are fading now.<br />
But it has been written<br />
in the spirit<br />
of your Zanzibar...<br />
<br />
<br />
Happy Birthday Ray<br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SOkBglLzOJKxT1WF9amb1A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/SV59B7qFzRI/AAAAAAAAkMw/w7shDB-nGVU/s144/Wizard_on_felt.jpg" /></a></div>
Gemma Wisemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17466540188839321484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960994546322005581.post-19199711953719346462015-08-16T18:13:00.001+10:002016-08-17T08:11:01.567+10:00Zanzibar had a secret yearning to paint... Part 2<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmHVLPsXwoEBFEN96ZWDa5QIxSBSdBJ96Yxgg8wcxEfl1OxIo9GDvY15_k__KyNT0pXBmI8P3Nx1jB3Lg7cXYVVuzFwNOd0fN6aVbCzY5N9ftbNOIdfvYCM0n9e-LvEZzOfMFjGOUaMmA/s1600/2013.125-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmHVLPsXwoEBFEN96ZWDa5QIxSBSdBJ96Yxgg8wcxEfl1OxIo9GDvY15_k__KyNT0pXBmI8P3Nx1jB3Lg7cXYVVuzFwNOd0fN6aVbCzY5N9ftbNOIdfvYCM0n9e-LvEZzOfMFjGOUaMmA/s640/2013.125-001.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms"; font-size: 28.7999992370605px;"><br /></span></strong>
<strong><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms"; font-size: 28.7999992370605px;">Part 2</span></strong><br />
<br />
Finally, Zanzibar was ready to create his magnus opus...
<br />
<br />
<br />
He brushed the table with a nasturtium wash<br />
The colour was pretty in the bottle<br />
But somehow it changed<br />
Seeped into the woods in parts<br />
In others<br />
The colours seemed to globulate and sheen<br />
<br />
Zanzibar shrugged<br />
And decided to continue<br />
<br />
He thought he'd better outline his fantasy shapes and figures<br />
<br />
He used a tiny paring knife<br />
So he could control the black outline<br />
But the knife seemed to have a bad habit of scratching into the wood<br />
And dots of black seemed to appear in the wrong places<br />
<br />
Zanzibar was a little frustrated by this time<br />
He really wanted to use the beautiful colours he had made<br />
So he used his pieces of bark and twigs<br />
Trying to put the colour inside his black outline<br />
But the black had not dried and seemed to wash into his colours<br />
Worse still<br />
Bits of bark and twigs were becoming stuck in the colour<br />
Zanzibar tried to pinch them out<br />
But only succeeded in leaving his own fingerprints behind<br />
<br />
By this time<br />
Zanzibar was feeling some rather grim rushes and waves of despair<br />
In short<br />
He felt depressed<br />
<br />
Finally Zanzibar decided it was time to give up<br />
The colour<br />
The bark<br />
The table<br />
All seemed to have a mind of their own<br />
<br />
Zanzibar headed forlornly to bed<br />
It was late<br />
Later than he realised<br />
He had missed the sunset<br />
He had missed tea<br />
But that all seemed so irrelevant<br />
So far away<br />
He was just so tired<br />
And so sad<br />
<br />
Next morning<br />
Zanzibar woke with the sunrise as usual<br />
His friendly wren greeted him on his window-sill<br />
Zanzibar smiled<br />
But only for a fleeting moment<br />
He knew he had to face the painting<br />
On his breakfast table<br />
<br />
Well<br />
He had to go out there sometime or other<br />
<br />
Out Zanzibar went<br />
Very slowly<br />
<br />
Quietly<br />
Very slowly<br />
He approached the table<br />
<br />
And just gazed<br />
And gazed<br />
<br />
Before him was indeed a painting<br />
But nothing like the one he thought he had created<br />
Indeed<br />
A lot of the paint had seeped into the wood<br />
But some had stayed<br />
Creating magical outlines and shapes<br />
<br />
Is that the face of the daughter of Neptune<br />
Zanzibar wondered<br />
Or is it really the face of Helen of Troy<br />
But if I stand over here<br />
It seems like a mermaid basking on rocks<br />
<br />
In total bewilderment<br />
Zanzibar walked round and round the table<br />
Getting more and more excited at the fantasy puzzle unravelling before him<br />
<br />
A cloud shape looked like coral looked like foam on the sea<br />
Looked like a white-haired wizard<br />
A window shape looked like a mirror containing a secret garden<br />
<br />
Hunger at last overwhelmed Zanzibar<br />
He was starving<br />
Hurriedly he gathered any berries close to his doorway<br />
And dashed back inside<br />
He'd drink his coffee cold today<br />
It did not matter<br />
Somehow he had created something that really entranced him<br />
And he was going to bask in the glory<br />
Of his unbridled skill<br />
The wonder<br />
The magic<br />
Of his unique artistry<br />
<br />
<br />
Correction...<br />
Somehow<br />
Something beautiful had been created<br />
<br />
And he felt very humble<br />
<br />
<br />
Moral #1 - Don't try to copy another's imagination... You never will...<br />
Moral #2 - I'd love to see Zanzibar's table... But I won't copy... Promise...<br />
<br />
<br />
Happy Birthday Ray<br />
<br />
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SOkBglLzOJKxT1WF9amb1A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/SV59B7qFzRI/AAAAAAAAkMw/w7shDB-nGVU/s144/Wizard_on_felt.jpg" /></a>
</div>
Gemma Wisemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17466540188839321484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960994546322005581.post-40937404465904917272010-08-22T20:58:00.003+10:002015-08-16T20:15:33.574+10:00Zanzibar had a secret yearning to paint...Part 1<div align="center">
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com.au/lh/photo/OzZFIFITuwcZl3nB6nf8EA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/THEBsHnrQnI/AAAAAAAB7eA/uEWe8yK4cBU/s400/IMG_1723.JPG" /></a><br />
Pic by Gemma Wiseman ~ Picnik fractal of a rain riddled wooden table at a Mornington cafe<br />
~<br />
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
<strong><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS; font-size: 180%;">Part 1</span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">For so long he had admired<br />Egyptian murals etching out<br />Daily life<br />Royal occasion<br />Star gazing<br />And he admired some of the newer expressions<br />Watery blends of unchartered hues<br />And even the stark black and whites of old rugged huts<br /><br />But most of all<br />Zanzibar admired<br />Portraits<br />The frustrated glimpses of inner minds and characters<br /><br />Lost in ambling thought<br />Zanzibar had inadvertently been gazing fixedly<br />At the sole decoration in his tiny humble room<br />A sepia-toned print<br />Symbolising the character figures from Lord of the Rings<br /><br />With a jolt<br />His focus captured the gruff bearded face of the central figure<br /><br />Beneath the tall battered hat<br />Zanzibar could just make out<br />A kaleidoscope of well-weathered lines beneath piercing eyes<br />His right hand grasped a strong taut staff with authority<br />But his left hand rested protectively on the shoulder of a child<br />Another misty figure sat to his side at his feet<br />But before him lay<br />Sprawled tiny figures<br />Struck down in various antics of death<br />The partially shaped form of a scruffy mean crow looked on<br /><br />The whole seemed to be captured in the framework of a cathedral-arched window<br />And that framed with a smaller series of fantastical vignettes<br /><br />Zanzibar's eyes wandered back to the only colour in the print<br />A white-blue coloured sky<br />The bare substance of white-blue snowy peaks<br />And the bare touch of white-green grass in the foreground<br />The pale watery wash of colour<br />Framed in<br />Darkening<br />Receding<br />Sepia tones<br />Leant a disturbing mystical dimension to the print<br /><br />Zanzibar decided<br />That's what he would paint<br />Fantasy figures and faces<br />So no human might be offended<br />That Zanzibar had created a secret portrait of him<br /><br />Zanzibar had much to do in preparation<br />Drying flowers<br />Pressing flowers<br />Soaking flowers in water<br />Storing a whole range of coloured liquids in separate jars<br />Easing sap from leaves<br />Gathering damp bark and twigs<br /><br />There was just one problem<br />He had not quite mastered the art of making paper for canvas<br />So Zanzibar looked around his room for a possible alternative<br /><br />The walls of his room were rough and textured<br />Besides<br />Zanzibar knew that he had no particular head for heights<br />So he did not want to stand for hours on a chair with his arm stretched upwards<br />He had no wish to claim the fame of Michelangelo or Leonardo da Vinci<br />(Who was it that painted the roof of the Sistine chapel anyway)<br />Zanzibar glanced at his own roof and shuddered<br />Too many cobwebs<br /><br />At length<br />His eyes strayed to his old wooden table<br />Really it was quite a solid bench<br />Made a long time ago for him by a tribe of cannibals in the New Guinea highlands<br />But that's another story<br /><br />Yes<br />The table would be ideal<br />A regular surface<br />And best of all<br />Zanzibar would need no particular gymnastic skills to complete the task...<br />~</span></strong><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SOkBglLzOJKxT1WF9amb1A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/SV59B7qFzRI/AAAAAAAAkMw/w7shDB-nGVU/s144/Wizard_on_felt.jpg" /></a> </div>
Gemma Wisemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17466540188839321484noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960994546322005581.post-65386749869642074352010-06-14T19:39:00.004+10:002015-08-16T18:26:19.687+10:00Dear Mr Woodcutterman...<div align="center">
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com.au/lh/photo/PouXqtE__fPoi8wu0tSZAA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/TBX4ROk59EI/AAAAAAAB3p4/uMIaiqQQCDc/s400/None.jpg" /></a><br />Picnik Fractal with neon effect by Gemma Wiseman ~ A birdfeeder at Tyabb Antique Village, Mornington Peninsula<br />~<br /><br /><em><span style="font-size: 180%;"><strong>Dear Mr Woodcutterman,</strong></span></em><strong><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><em>At this moment I feel a creative urge. You will be glad to know it has nothing to do with a secret yearning to paint. But that is another story which did somehow or other resolve itself. No, I wish now to do some creative project with wood. Perhaps, by now, you are getting the idea I have never worked in wood before. I did some painting on an old wooden table of mine - but that's that story I just mentioned. I would like to try, however, with a little help from you.<br /><br />I would like you to select some very special wood for me. You see, I have in mind to build a bird-feeder. My forest birds often have trouble finding food in the chilly days of winter, and I would like to help them. The wood must hold warmth and reject cold. The wood must be easy for bird feet, but not too slippery in case the birds taste the unexpected experience of ice-skating. The wood must be an inviting colour. Magical, varied tones would be just the thing.<br /><br />The roof will be a pointed cottage style, so the birds have a ledge on which to land and so that the food is protected from damp in the rainy season. Hopefully you will supply some extra off-cuts of wood so that the birds may even have some resting perches on the side.<br /><br />The base of the bird-feeder will be surrounded by an eating ledge. I intend to attach some wind chimes to the base of the bird-feeder so that the birds may eat in musical calm.<br /><br />The whole bird-feeder will be raised aloft on a staunch block of wood. This block of wood should be different - a detrrent to any animals who thoughtlessly wish to attack the birds.<br /><br />Wood lengths? I have no idea really. Perhaps if I just say I would like a large bird-feeder. The roof should be high enough from the base to allow even the large forest birds to feel comfortable as they eat. I would like the block of wood to be as tall as a small tree. I would like the base to be wide enough to hold many birds on all sides.<br /><br />Perhaps you could supply me with wood nails. I have failing eye-sight, so the nails must be easily seen. I don't have a hammer - I've had no need for one. Perhaps I could borrow one. Do you think I need a drill? That will be a problem. You see, my little cottage has no electrcity. Will the wood have to be sanded? My hands are old and gnarled and not as steady as they should be. Perhaps I may not even see well enough to do the sanding properly.<br /><br />And, I just realised, I don't have a ladder. I will need a ladder to put the bird-feeder on the block of wood. I'm not quite sure how I could manage to do that all by myself.<br /><br />My unsteady hands, my failing eyesight, my no head for heights...<br /><br />Mr Woodcutterman...I think I have an idea.<br />Would you be so kind as to make the bird-feeder for me?<br />Bring it over to my cottage when you're finished, and I will hold your ladder steady while you put it up for me...<br /><br />I do make beautiful honey-meade wine...If I could tempt you try some when you're done...<br /><br />Waiting in magical hope...</em></span></strong><br /><em><strong><span style="font-size: 180%;">Zanzibar</span></strong></em><br />20th April, 1998<br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SOkBglLzOJKxT1WF9amb1A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/SV59B7qFzRI/AAAAAAAAkMw/w7shDB-nGVU/s144/Wizard_on_felt.jpg" /></a> </div>
Gemma Wisemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17466540188839321484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960994546322005581.post-68610932033564710772010-06-14T17:34:00.004+10:002015-08-16T18:26:37.255+10:00Zanzibar had reached the ocean...<div align="center">
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com.au/lh/photo/CpaChtVY1V6K6U34bKLfUA?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Oyk8o7jq2eJ7li10mCe6WjXmKLFFjGtIzfaGSDiWd1Bb5KDF4yCPHt25cAnA3Qt0SNvAeDc-JqhLrU18RTfdJlfFfJYEozMq3p2AzyD4yf6eLMppaeychWL-Tu1Hcq1AGGpht_OBnzw/s400/None.jpg" /></a><br />Picnik Fractal in neon effect by Gemma Wiseman ~ created from the surf at Gunnamatta, Mornington Peninsula<br />~<br /><br /><span style="font-size: 180%;">Zanzibar had reached the ocean...</span><strong><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">What a giant...<br />As far as Zanzibar could remember<br />There was no rival to its sheer power and strength<br />Waves cascading on waves<br />Sheer power and strength<br /><br />Zanzibar seated himself upon the rock-cliff<br /><br />His soul was rivetted to the spectacle before him<br />Rolling and changing waves<br />Grasping the shore<br />Trying to drag it out to watery depths<br />Waves<br />Pounding the rocks<br />Looking for clefts of weakness<br /><br />Seagulls serenading the hunt for fish<br /><br />Time slipped by<br /><br />The sun setting<br />Creating a multi-coloured sheen upon the water<br /><br />Zanzibar noticed a sudden break in the surface of the water<br /><br />A dolphin swimming toward him<br />It's body a glistening grey<br />It's snout breaking the water<br />And laughing for any to hear<br /><br />Upon the dolphin's head<br />There shone a star<br />With an unnatural glow<br /><br />Zanzibar's interest was piqued<br /><br />The dolphin came close to shore and spoke<br /><br />Zanzibar had seen many different sights<br />But this was a bit unsettling<br /></span></strong><strong><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><em>Hail magician<br />How brook the tides of human nature</em> said the dolphin<br /><br />Zanzibar could not believe his ears<br />What a complex question coming from a dolphin<br />He did not know how to reply<br />So he sat there dumbstruck...<br /></span></strong><strong><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><em>Does man still tempt the divine wrath of the gods<br />I was with you<br />But my heart could no longer restrain the the pains of mankind<br />I could not bear the pain of love for the soul anymore</em><br /><br />The dolphin said this as he circled in the water<br />Always with one eye upon Zanzibar<br /><br />Again Zanzibar found himself speechless<br />Here was a dolphin with a star that shone on its forehead<br />It spoke and questioned the higher aspirations of man<br /><br />Zanzibar managed a wry smile and a few clumsy words<br /><em>It's getting colder with the sun going down<br />I believe I will have to be going shortly</em><br />The dolphin came upright on its tail in the water<br /><br /><em>I command you to stay<br />I have not talked to any man for ten years<br />And I need to know what is happening</em><br />Zanzibar kept his wry smile in place<br />He did not take orders easily<br />And a fixed smile is better than sour words<br /><br />But Zanzibar did manage to say politely<br /><em>If you tell me your story<br />Then I will stay and listen</em><br />So the dolphin started telling Zanzibar<br />Of how he was once a young wizard<br />Who endured indescribable anguish<br />His greatest torment was the fevered mind and twisted soul of man<br />His greatest quest was to seek the temple of light<br /><br />In the form of a young wizard he found the temple of light<br />And then...<br />Today<br />He is a beautiful creature of the sea<br />A dolphin<br /><br />And that is my story<br />Now answer my questions<br /><br />Zanzibar really did smile this time<br />He would not be commanded<br />And never said he would answer any questions<br /><br />Zanzibar of course had been to this temple of light too<br /><br />From a small black velvet pouch<br />Zanzibar drew out his treasure<br />A temple of light crystal<br />He had learned how to use it in many ways<br />Especially as a measure of truth<br /><br />The crystal leapt from Zanzibar's hands<br />And blended with the light on the dolphin's head<br /><br />For a moment the dolphin shivered<br />And then a husky voice<br />Emerged from the dolphin<br /><br /><em><span style="color: #ffff99;">The wizard came to us<br />Misguided<br />Hurt<br />And a dragon to all he met<br />Changing him into a dolphin changed his personality<br />He is now kind<br />Gentle<br />And tries to be understanding<br />Generally<br />His only quest is the ocean depths<br />He even seems to enjoy investigating new worlds<br />Do not hurt him<br />He is an innocent</span></em><br />The connecting light dissolved<br />And once again Zanzibar held the crystal in the palm of his hand<br /><br />For a few moments<br />Zanzibar stared out to the blackening ocean waters<br />He seemed entranced by the sounds of the ocean swell<br />And perhaps the odd glimpse of white frothy foam<br /><br />But then<br />Suddenly<br />He remembered the dolphin<br /><br />The dolphin was no longer close to shore<br />But gambolling its way out to sea<br /><br />Zanzibar waved<br />And smiled<br />And walked away...<br /><br /><br />Moral #1 ~ In each of us there is good<br />Sometimes it just needs a little charging<br />Moral #2 ~ Dolphins don't talk do they?<br /><br />~ 25th September, 1997<br /></span></strong><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SOkBglLzOJKxT1WF9amb1A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/SV59B7qFzRI/AAAAAAAAkMw/w7shDB-nGVU/s144/Wizard_on_felt.jpg" /></a> </div>
Gemma Wisemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17466540188839321484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960994546322005581.post-13398940184177084382010-04-12T22:08:00.006+10:002015-08-16T18:26:55.988+10:00Zanzibar met a man and a woman arguing...<div align="center">
<a href="http://picasaweb.google.com.au/lh/photo/kJMSsu7OVtpAtOcfoQtlBg?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh5.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/S8MJ3_OyMHI/AAAAAAABwbs/tAhij4ZWY-s/s400/SL370607_~_arty_stormy_Red_Hill.JPG" /></a><br />Pic by Gemma Wiseman<br />~ </div>
<div align="center">
<br /><strong><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size: 180%;">On one of his many travels, Zanzibar met a man and a woman arguing.</span><br />Zanzibar walked up and smiled, and, with his flamboyant style, presented himself in front of the two.<br /><br />Being known far and wide has its advantages. The two stopped arguing, and proceeded to request Zanzibar's help. Zanzibar was known far and wide for his help in solving problems - sometimes, in unusual ways! But that was expected, because Zanzibar was an unusual wizard.<br /><br />The man and woman explained how the village by the ocean was a despicable place. The people dressed funny, spoke funny, and were dull.<br />We were just "discussing" what town to go to now.<br /><br />Zanzibar smiled and said, "Come with me."<br /><br />He took them through the pretty town to the ocean.<br />He set them down on the crest of a cliff overlooking the ocean.<br />Their emotions were suspended in the magnitude of the view.<br />Then Zanzibar began to speak.<br />"The ocean is alive. You can feel and see it. It's force is terrifying, while at the same time enchanting. You can see each individual wave. Each is different, unique; colours cascading into one another, until they meld with the body of the ocean."<br /><br />With this, Zanzibar jumped up and grabbed the two.<br /><br />"If I were to toss the two of you off the cliff into the ocean below, you would enter and become one with the waves; still individuals, but part of the waves.<br />If you could not adapt, you would sink and drown in the main body of the ocean.<br />In no way does it matter to the ocean if you sink or swim.<br />It really only matters to you to adapt to present circumstances, if you are wanting happiness.<br />Just to want happiness is not to know happiness."<br /><br />With that, he tossed both into the ocean...<br />And walked away smiling...<br /><br />Moral 1: Sink or swim<br />Moral 2: Happiness is learning to know happiness anywhere<br />Moral 3: Birds fly. Why the hell can't I?</span></strong>~<br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SOkBglLzOJKxT1WF9amb1A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="https://lh3.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/SV59B7qFzRI/AAAAAAAAkMw/w7shDB-nGVU/s144/Wizard_on_felt.jpg" /></a> </div>
Gemma Wisemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17466540188839321484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960994546322005581.post-11314042187237822992009-01-07T20:45:00.003+11:002009-01-07T21:03:34.197+11:00A Letter: More Zanzibar Stories<p align="center"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/sUAgoJgW4ZSy8gGPH69qMQ?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/SWKTuoPUkFI/AAAAAAAAk2o/02v8TRKR7m8/s400/SL371591.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">7 Mistral Valley Lane<br />Zanzibar<br />Tara Vale<br /><br />Dear Wizard of Zanzibar,<br /><br />I wonder what you do between stories?<br /><br />Do you look for more in the world around you?<br /><br />Or do you have some secret hobby between times?<br /><br />Do you ever go looking for a new range of clothes?<br />Or a new place to live?<br /><br />Are your clothes mere holograms for those who seek physical, visual satidfaction?<br /><br />Of course, your home is really anywhere your nomadic feet tire and need rest<br />Or do you have some special place that tends to encourage your return?<br /><br />You realise, I am just working toward the inevitable question...<br /><br />Please ~ Gather more stories!<br /></span></strong><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SOkBglLzOJKxT1WF9amb1A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/SV59B7qFzRI/AAAAAAAAkMw/w7shDB-nGVU/s288/Wizard_on_felt.jpg" /></a></p>Gemma Wisemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17466540188839321484noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960994546322005581.post-57569612452749931842009-01-04T20:59:00.003+11:002010-06-14T18:51:26.974+10:00Zanzibar arrived at the inn...<p align="center"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/R70m8w3q8D3Ja_H1tk_D7Q?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/SDinkDStz-I/AAAAAAAACsw/jiQaxAlecMs/s400/Bunurong%20Track%20Arthurs%20Seat%20-%20solarised.JPG" /></a><br />Pic by Gemma Wiseman ~ Solarised track<br />~<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:180%;">Zanzibar arrived at the inn...<br /></span><br />A swinging sign at the front with a collie on it<br /><em>Shari's Inn</em><br />Friendly name<br />Softly waiting by the winding forest track<br />A place to rest peacefully for awhile<br /><br />Zanzibar entered<br /><br />Not crowded for this time of day<br />A couple in a corner and an old man with a pipe<br /><br />Zanzibar sat at a table near the bar and ordered a beer from the waitress<br /><br />The inn had charm<br />Its walls had trinkets of interest<br />The bar was made of stone with an oakwood top<br /><br />A collie sat at the end of the bar<br /><br />As soon as Zanzibar noticed her<br />The collie came over and sat right in front of him<br />Her deep brown eyes studied him<br />Finally she came to a decision<br />Zanzibar was alright<br />She stood up<br />And put her nose under Zanzibar's hand<br />And again looked into his eyes<br /><br />Zanzibar felt himself falling into her<br />He realised his weaknesses<br />His good<br />All in a couple of seconds<br /><br />He finally broke away from the collie's eyes<br />And gave her a pat on the head<br /><br />Zanzibar felt power around that he didn't understand<br /><br />The waitress came over<br /><em>I see the owner has accepted you</em><br />Smiled<br />And continued on her chores<br /><br />Zanzibar looked at the collie<br />He felt a beautiful sense of comfort and happiness wash over him<br />As the collie licked his hand<br /><br />Shari<br />Shari the collie was<br />A seer<br />A maestro of<br />Soul magic<br /><br />Quietly he smiled<br />And walked thoughtfully from the inn<br />~<br /></span></strong><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SOkBglLzOJKxT1WF9amb1A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/SV59B7qFzRI/AAAAAAAAkMw/w7shDB-nGVU/s144/Wizard_on_felt.jpg" /></a></p>Gemma Wisemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17466540188839321484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-960994546322005581.post-29817411555153105492009-01-03T09:02:00.003+11:002010-06-14T18:52:00.768+10:00Zanzibar had travelled much in the realms of man...<p align="center"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/367YqvXF266FLkRodLbZMw?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/SV6A-yQi_kI/AAAAAAAAkNQ/PsSi6To6HHg/s144/SL371909.JPG" /></a><br /></p><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="font-size:180%;">Zanzibar had travelled much in the realms of man...<br /></span>So much he had seen...<br />So much he had learned...<br /><br />One day, he was travelling toward a tall wooded mountain<br />A crystal waterfall cascaded down one side<br />Fresh forest scents enchanted him...<br /><br />Suddenly Zanzibar heard a whispered voice<br />It seemed to be coming from a clump of dark rocks<br /><br />As Zanzibar cautiously peered around the rocks<br />He was startled to see an old man<br />A hermit<br />Muttering to no one in particular<br /><br />Zanzibar quietly greeted the hermit ~ for fear of startling him<br /><br />However, the old man seemed not surprised to see him<br /><br /><em>Greetings! O starry Magician of the Diamond Light!</em><br /><br />It was Zanzibar who was startled<br /><br /><em>Would you like to see a light within the darkness</em><br /><br />The old hermit seemed to be speaking as if continuing a conversation with a friend<br /><br /><em>Indeed I would</em> declared Zanzibar<br />He knew not what else to say<br />He still had the diamond and the velvet in his pocket<br />Perhaps the diamond could do with a new source of energy<br /><br /><em>Take this steep path behind the rocks</em><br /><em>Follow it down into the mountain</em><br /><em>Follow it down into the depths of the mountain</em><br /><em>And there you will see...</em><br /><br />Ever curious<br />Zanzibar followed the path<br />Which became a track<br />Which became a tunnel<br /><br />The old hermit followed for a while offering encouragement<br />And then disappeared<br /><br />Zanzibar found no light<br />The darkness wrapped warm around him<br />But there was no light<br /><br />The diamond...<br />He took it out of his pocket<br />Unwrapped the velvet<br />And cradled the whole in his hands<br /><br />A mystical light grew around Zanzibar<br />Emanating from his very soul<br /><br />Still cradling the diamond in his hands<br />Zanzibar walked forth<br />Down down down<br />Into the depths of the mountain<br /><br />Finally Zanzibar entered a rugged chamber<br />Rugged with angular rocks and chipped stone<br />Rugged and almost totally blackened<br /><br />And then, he saw it<br />A flame<br />Floating whimsically around the chamber<br /><br />He smiled<br />He had found the light of all freedom<br /><br />He chased it<br />But its blue incandescence<br />Always danced mischievously ahead of him<br />He tried to snatch it with his hand<br />But the palm of his hand burnt with pain<br />In desperation<br />He tried to throw his cape over the flame<br />His cape turned quickly into singed blackened threads<br /><br />And then<br />He sat down and watched the flame<br />Dancing<br />Spiralling<br />Becoming small then large<br />Dancing and spiralling again<br /><br />Zanzibar left the remnants of his cape there on the ground<br /><br />And walked away<br />With a humble smile<br />~<br /></strong></span><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/SOkBglLzOJKxT1WF9amb1A?feat=embedwebsite"><img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_jPLh0HLfTrA/SV59B7qFzRI/AAAAAAAAkMw/w7shDB-nGVU/s144/Wizard_on_felt.jpg" /></a> </div>Gemma Wisemanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17466540188839321484noreply@blogger.com2