Zanzibar had lost his adventure spirit...

Zanzibar had lost his adventure spirit...
For some wintry days now, he had been unwell...
lacking the energy to move ...
He just wanted to sit...
in his favourite old rocking chair...
on his tiny verandah...
And stare at far horizons...

And sleep...

on one of these many days...
as he rocked away gently...
Zanzibar's eyes happened to drift down to the little rock garden near his doorway...
He stopped...

Strange...
He had never noticed water gathering like a little pool round the rocks before...


And there was his little tortoise friend
eyeing him
as if sending bubble thoughts his way...

At last you notice me...
Sometimes...
The beauty you seek and the inspiration for great thoughts
can be right here...
Your horizons begin 
right here

at home...

Zanzibar slowly smiled...
and saluted his little friend...


and suddenly
Zanzibar felt an exciting urge to plan

a fresh journey...


a journey
on water...



Happy (belated) Birthday Ray

Zanzibar had a secret yearning to paint... Part 2

Part 2

Finally, Zanzibar was ready to create his magnus opus...


He brushed the table with a nasturtium wash
The colour was pretty in the bottle
But somehow it changed
Seeped into the woods in parts
In others
The colours seemed to globulate and sheen

Zanzibar shrugged
And decided to continue

He thought he'd better outline his fantasy shapes and figures

He used a tiny paring knife
So he could control the black outline
But the knife seemed to have a bad habit of scratching into the wood
And dots of black seemed to appear in the wrong places

Zanzibar was a little frustrated by this time
He really wanted to use the beautiful colours he had made
So he used his pieces of bark and twigs
Trying to put the colour inside his black outline
But the black had not dried and seemed to wash into his colours
Worse still
Bits of bark and twigs were becoming stuck in the colour
Zanzibar tried to pinch them out
But only succeeded in leaving his own fingerprints behind

By this time
Zanzibar was feeling some rather grim rushes and waves of despair
In short
He felt depressed

Finally Zanzibar decided it was time to give up
The colour
The bark
The table
All seemed to have a mind of their own

Zanzibar headed forlornly to bed
It was late
Later than he realised
He had missed the sunset
He had missed tea
But that all seemed so irrelevant
So far away
He was just so tired
And so sad

Next morning
Zanzibar woke with the sunrise as usual
His friendly wren greeted him on his window-sill
Zanzibar smiled
But only for a fleeting moment
He knew he had to face the painting
On his breakfast table

Well
He had to go out there sometime or other

Out Zanzibar went
Very slowly

Quietly
Very slowly
He approached the table

And just gazed
And gazed

Before him was indeed a painting
But nothing like the one he thought he had created
Indeed
A lot of the paint had seeped into the wood
But some had stayed
Creating magical outlines and shapes

Is that the face of the daughter of Neptune
Zanzibar wondered
Or is it really the face of Helen of Troy
But if I stand over here
It seems like a mermaid basking on rocks

In total bewilderment
Zanzibar walked round and round the table
Getting more and more excited at the fantasy puzzle unravelling before him

A cloud shape looked like coral looked like foam on the sea
Looked like a white-haired wizard
A window shape looked like a mirror containing a secret garden

Hunger at last overwhelmed Zanzibar
He was starving
Hurriedly he gathered any berries close to his doorway
And dashed back inside
He'd drink his coffee cold today
It did not matter
Somehow he had created something that really entranced him
And he was going to bask in the glory
Of his unbridled skill
The wonder
The magic
Of his unique artistry


Correction...
Somehow
Something beautiful had been created

And he felt very humble


Moral #1 - Don't try to copy another's imagination... You never will...
Moral #2 - I'd love to see Zanzibar's table... But I won't copy... Promise...


Happy Birthday Ray

Zanzibar had a secret yearning to paint...Part 1

Pic by Gemma Wiseman ~ Picnik fractal of a rain riddled wooden table at a Mornington cafe
~

Part 1

For so long he had admired
Egyptian murals etching out
Daily life
Royal occasion
Star gazing
And he admired some of the newer expressions
Watery blends of unchartered hues
And even the stark black and whites of old rugged huts

But most of all
Zanzibar admired
Portraits
The frustrated glimpses of inner minds and characters

Lost in ambling thought
Zanzibar had inadvertently been gazing fixedly
At the sole decoration in his tiny humble room
A sepia-toned print
Symbolising the character figures from Lord of the Rings

With a jolt
His focus captured the gruff bearded face of the central figure

Beneath the tall battered hat
Zanzibar could just make out
A kaleidoscope of well-weathered lines beneath piercing eyes
His right hand grasped a strong taut staff with authority
But his left hand rested protectively on the shoulder of a child
Another misty figure sat to his side at his feet
But before him lay
Sprawled tiny figures
Struck down in various antics of death
The partially shaped form of a scruffy mean crow looked on

The whole seemed to be captured in the framework of a cathedral-arched window
And that framed with a smaller series of fantastical vignettes

Zanzibar's eyes wandered back to the only colour in the print
A white-blue coloured sky
The bare substance of white-blue snowy peaks
And the bare touch of white-green grass in the foreground
The pale watery wash of colour
Framed in
Darkening
Receding
Sepia tones
Leant a disturbing mystical dimension to the print

Zanzibar decided
That's what he would paint
Fantasy figures and faces
So no human might be offended
That Zanzibar had created a secret portrait of him

Zanzibar had much to do in preparation
Drying flowers
Pressing flowers
Soaking flowers in water
Storing a whole range of coloured liquids in separate jars
Easing sap from leaves
Gathering damp bark and twigs

There was just one problem
He had not quite mastered the art of making paper for canvas
So Zanzibar looked around his room for a possible alternative

The walls of his room were rough and textured
Besides
Zanzibar knew that he had no particular head for heights
So he did not want to stand for hours on a chair with his arm stretched upwards
He had no wish to claim the fame of Michelangelo or Leonardo da Vinci
(Who was it that painted the roof of the Sistine chapel anyway)
Zanzibar glanced at his own roof and shuddered
Too many cobwebs

At length
His eyes strayed to his old wooden table
Really it was quite a solid bench
Made a long time ago for him by a tribe of cannibals in the New Guinea highlands
But that's another story

Yes
The table would be ideal
A regular surface
And best of all
Zanzibar would need no particular gymnastic skills to complete the task...
~

Zanzibar had reached the ocean...

Picnik Fractal in neon effect by Gemma Wiseman ~ created from the surf at Gunnamatta, Mornington Peninsula
~

Zanzibar had reached the ocean...What a giant...
As far as Zanzibar could remember
There was no rival to its sheer power and strength
Waves cascading on waves
Sheer power and strength

Zanzibar seated himself upon the rock-cliff

His soul was rivetted to the spectacle before him
Rolling and changing waves
Grasping the shore
Trying to drag it out to watery depths
Waves
Pounding the rocks
Looking for clefts of weakness

Seagulls serenading the hunt for fish

Time slipped by

The sun setting
Creating a multi-coloured sheen upon the water

Zanzibar noticed a sudden break in the surface of the water

A dolphin swimming toward him
It's body a glistening grey
It's snout breaking the water
And laughing for any to hear

Upon the dolphin's head
There shone a star
With an unnatural glow

Zanzibar's interest was piqued

The dolphin came close to shore and spoke

Zanzibar had seen many different sights
But this was a bit unsettling
Hail magician
How brook the tides of human nature said the dolphin

Zanzibar could not believe his ears
What a complex question coming from a dolphin
He did not know how to reply
So he sat there dumbstruck...
Does man still tempt the divine wrath of the gods
I was with you
But my heart could no longer restrain the the pains of mankind
I could not bear the pain of love for the soul anymore

The dolphin said this as he circled in the water
Always with one eye upon Zanzibar

Again Zanzibar found himself speechless
Here was a dolphin with a star that shone on its forehead
It spoke and questioned the higher aspirations of man

Zanzibar managed a wry smile and a few clumsy words
It's getting colder with the sun going down
I believe I will have to be going shortly
The dolphin came upright on its tail in the water

I command you to stay
I have not talked to any man for ten years
And I need to know what is happening
Zanzibar kept his wry smile in place
He did not take orders easily
And a fixed smile is better than sour words

But Zanzibar did manage to say politely
If you tell me your story
Then I will stay and listen
So the dolphin started telling Zanzibar
Of how he was once a young wizard
Who endured indescribable anguish
His greatest torment was the fevered mind and twisted soul of man
His greatest quest was to seek the temple of light

In the form of a young wizard he found the temple of light
And then...
Today
He is a beautiful creature of the sea
A dolphin

And that is my story
Now answer my questions

Zanzibar really did smile this time
He would not be commanded
And never said he would answer any questions

Zanzibar of course had been to this temple of light too

From a small black velvet pouch
Zanzibar drew out his treasure
A temple of light crystal
He had learned how to use it in many ways
Especially as a measure of truth

The crystal leapt from Zanzibar's hands
And blended with the light on the dolphin's head

For a moment the dolphin shivered
And then a husky voice
Emerged from the dolphin

The wizard came to us
Misguided
Hurt
And a dragon to all he met
Changing him into a dolphin changed his personality
He is now kind
Gentle
And tries to be understanding
Generally
His only quest is the ocean depths
He even seems to enjoy investigating new worlds
Do not hurt him
He is an innocent
The connecting light dissolved
And once again Zanzibar held the crystal in the palm of his hand

For a few moments
Zanzibar stared out to the blackening ocean waters
He seemed entranced by the sounds of the ocean swell
And perhaps the odd glimpse of white frothy foam

But then
Suddenly
He remembered the dolphin

The dolphin was no longer close to shore
But gambolling its way out to sea

Zanzibar waved
And smiled
And walked away...


Moral #1 ~ In each of us there is good
Sometimes it just needs a little charging
Moral #2 ~ Dolphins don't talk do they?

~ 25th September, 1997

Zanzibar arrived at the inn...

Pic by Gemma Wiseman ~ Solarised track
~

Zanzibar arrived at the inn...

A swinging sign at the front with a collie on it
Shari's Inn
Friendly name
Softly waiting by the winding forest track
A place to rest peacefully for awhile

Zanzibar entered

Not crowded for this time of day
A couple in a corner and an old man with a pipe

Zanzibar sat at a table near the bar and ordered a beer from the waitress

The inn had charm
Its walls had trinkets of interest
The bar was made of stone with an oakwood top

A collie sat at the end of the bar

As soon as Zanzibar noticed her
The collie came over and sat right in front of him
Her deep brown eyes studied him
Finally she came to a decision
Zanzibar was alright
She stood up
And put her nose under Zanzibar's hand
And again looked into his eyes

Zanzibar felt himself falling into her
He realised his weaknesses
His good
All in a couple of seconds

He finally broke away from the collie's eyes
And gave her a pat on the head

Zanzibar felt power around that he didn't understand

The waitress came over
I see the owner has accepted you
Smiled
And continued on her chores

Zanzibar looked at the collie
He felt a beautiful sense of comfort and happiness wash over him
As the collie licked his hand

Shari
Shari the collie was
A seer
A maestro of
Soul magic

Quietly he smiled
And walked thoughtfully from the inn
~

Zanzibar had travelled much in the realms of man...

Zanzibar had travelled much in the realms of man...
So much he had seen...
So much he had learned...

One day, he was travelling toward a tall wooded mountain
A crystal waterfall cascaded down one side
Fresh forest scents enchanted him...

Suddenly Zanzibar heard a whispered voice
It seemed to be coming from a clump of dark rocks

As Zanzibar cautiously peered around the rocks
He was startled to see an old man
A hermit
Muttering to no one in particular

Zanzibar quietly greeted the hermit ~ for fear of startling him

However, the old man seemed not surprised to see him

Greetings! O starry Magician of the Diamond Light!

It was Zanzibar who was startled

Would you like to see a light within the darkness

The old hermit seemed to be speaking as if continuing a conversation with a friend

Indeed I would declared Zanzibar
He knew not what else to say
He still had the diamond and the velvet in his pocket
Perhaps the diamond could do with a new source of energy

Take this steep path behind the rocks
Follow it down into the mountain
Follow it down into the depths of the mountain
And there you will see...

Ever curious
Zanzibar followed the path
Which became a track
Which became a tunnel

The old hermit followed for a while offering encouragement
And then disappeared

Zanzibar found no light
The darkness wrapped warm around him
But there was no light

The diamond...
He took it out of his pocket
Unwrapped the velvet
And cradled the whole in his hands

A mystical light grew around Zanzibar
Emanating from his very soul

Still cradling the diamond in his hands
Zanzibar walked forth
Down down down
Into the depths of the mountain

Finally Zanzibar entered a rugged chamber
Rugged with angular rocks and chipped stone
Rugged and almost totally blackened

And then, he saw it
A flame
Floating whimsically around the chamber

He smiled
He had found the light of all freedom

He chased it
But its blue incandescence
Always danced mischievously ahead of him
He tried to snatch it with his hand
But the palm of his hand burnt with pain
In desperation
He tried to throw his cape over the flame
His cape turned quickly into singed blackened threads

And then
He sat down and watched the flame
Dancing
Spiralling
Becoming small then large
Dancing and spiralling again

Zanzibar left the remnants of his cape there on the ground

And walked away
With a humble smile
~