The Vesper Bell of evensong had not yet rung, Heloise arrived back at la couvent de la sang precieux to find the entire collation of its inmates seated in le refectoire, at their evening meal.
This was fortunate, as they knew today was her free day of grace, in which she could enjoy; un jour de fetes, on her own , to do as she pleased. Hurriedly, she gained her private cell, a small room at the back of the Sacristy... granted to her through privilege and years of long service as befitted her station as Sacristan.
Heloise disrobed to freshen herself, poured water into a basin, disposed of the soiled habit along with the marble relic into a locked closet, the door of which displayed an icon of the Virgin, delicately rendered by la vielle soeur Agathe in distemper, gesso and casein.
Heloise gazed absently around her rudimentary cell, seeing it as if for the first time through newly opened eyes. Its austerity was marked, the simple cot, the small fire place, the tiny window overlooking the back quad and potager, the simple limewashed stucco of its irregular walls, the minute washstand, the closet, the simple chest at the foot of her bed, the black crucifix of ebony and the tiny votive altar beneath.
There were no mirrors in her cell, but after tidying her person and changing her clothes, she suddenly wanted, as never before; to have a look at her appearance... Down a small back stair she flew; to the well of la Vierge...and there in the still placid pool, surveyed her visage for the first time in ages... her face flushed hotly, she had a sunburn! not only her face, but she felt , most of the rest of her body... ( except for her shoulders and breasts, which had been somewhat protected by her camisole during her flight with the Satyr )... that evidence would remain hidden. She could not however, conceal her face...but the red burning of it was so lobsterlike; her only consolation was that no witness could misconstrue it for any blush of shame or guilt.
After so many exertions, her hunger was great, and finally appearing in le refectoire, she fell in with her sisters and la Mere Marjolaine, ( at the head table )... who welcomed her warmly along with the rest of the assembly.
"Why Soeur Heloise!...You positively glow with the divine light of our sweet Lord this evening!.... His sacred beams have found your face, his health giving fire becomes you!", la Mere Marjolaine remarked with a smile...as she cut into her potatoes and boiled Macedoine. " Do you not agree Soeur Agathe?,...Soeur Ursule?... Soeur Heloise seems a new being!...so radiant... what ever can have gotten into her today ?? It has surely done her good!! Dieu Sainte!"...
The two older nuns nodded meekly and smiled sweetly at the Abess and at Heloise, over their trenchers. Heloise blushed an even redder glow, beneath her pink face...crossed herself and broke bread. "Thank you, Ma Mere superieure... nature was so enchanting today... on the hill my good Lord our saviour excelled himself in the beauty of the season.", she returned, still blushing.
Nothing more was said on the matter, and at the end of the meal, the entire assembly rose for the giving of thanks, and sang the benediction, exiting in orderly lines; with the novices leading the way in joyful unison and in preparation for evensong and the service of Vespers.
Heloise contemplated the articles of the sacrament, alone in the Sacristy. The polychrome Christ; its crude wooden carving and waxy colouring, anguished attitude of mental and physical torment...the bloody stigmata...in so sharp a contrast to the antique finesse of the marble Satyr and Nymph of the temple; redolent of physical athletic glory, and pagan joy.
She dutifully, resignedly, carried the monstrance and the flagons of holy wine and water along with ' l'hostie ', to the high altar... within the sanctus sanctorum; the sacrarium behind the holy rood screen.
La Mere Marjolaine: Abess of La Couvent de la Sang Precieux, officiated at the service of Vespers; donning the full regalia of her station. The Evensong commenced in due course- and all fulfilled their respective duties...including Heloise- though as they raised their voices in Seraphic Harmonies, Angelic raptures and raphsodies to the vaulted roof and the heavens beyond...Heloise's mind drifted off to the events of her days adventures...she pondered wistfully, what had happened to her, in the harsh light of reality; in the context of the ritual she participated in now!...what a contrast in every way, shape and form!...and when each member of the congregation rose to take the holy sacrament in turn; from the hands of the Abess- Long slender white hands-, gradual waves of incredulity, contradiction, and revulsion rose within the psyche of Soeur Heloise de la Vachebobois, Nee Alphonsine... As if in a timeworn hypnotic trance, she approached the Altar- to receive the holy sacrament - L'hostie; the HOLY BREAD: representing the physical body of Christ divine...(His Flesh), which she must, like a willing cannibal , take and eat of... likewise then, the holy wine- she must drink; take and drink the 'Precious Blood', of our Lord Jesus Christ Saviour, who shed the same on the cross for the eternal salvation of humanity entire.
She took the dry crust into her dry mouth...it grated and stuck to the roof of her palate...almost choking her...she dutifully sipped of the wine from a cold silver cup; drinking the "Blood", of Christ. The hands of the Abess looked chapped, pasty, ashen-grey , cracked and worn, cold to the touch as they brushed her chin momentarily.
Then Soeur Heloise saw a vision of the Christ swim like a mirage in her minds' eye; his attenuated body: bleeding, suppurating with pustulent sores and the stench of rotting human flesh; crawling with maggots and oozing decay and putrefaction.....she began to VOMIT! Uncontrollably; all over the Abess!! All over the Sacrarium!- She ejected the entire contents of her stomach and intestines in six STEAMING consecutive JETS of PROJECTILE VOMIT ; all over the altar!!! to the absolute horror of the entire assembly; whose jaws dropped en masse!, gasping in disbelief!...RECOILING in SHOCK!...La Mere Marjolaine and the stunned votaresses of the order leapt back aghast, and frightened!....Heloise fainted, and fell directly headlong from the Altar dais, down three stone steps,...to land in a crumpled heap-...and then ending; to slide in a rancid stinking puddle of her own vomit.
With a mixed sense of shock, alarm, concern...mingled sympathy; and a thinly veiled utter disgust... the sisters regrouped and carried her off to her cell. Crossing themselves , and uttering quiet imprecations to God, Jesus Christ, the Holy Ghost , and the Blessed Virgin Mary.
_____________________________________________________________________
Here endeth the first Parable of The Temple of the Four Winds .... Volume Two , to Appear , Autumn 2009.
Saturday, 14 March 2009
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
The Temple of the Four Winds; La Denouement
Something profound and transformative had occured. Whether a dream, revelation, some trick of supernature , her own mind... or divine intervention. Heloise awoke from a pleasant slumber, eyelids blinking rapidly in the late afternoon light ; apricot hues painted the glade warmly.
She lay in the afterglow; post ecstatic, of her sexual awakening. The late hour giving way to an evening of amber rays through green leaves darkening. Ephemeris bugs danced in a molecular cloud of chaotic movement; shot through with golden beams.
Despite realizing her deliverer had gone; and still prone, she shuddered with the radiant tremors of pleasure that coursed periodically through her veins and extremities. This was random, and outwith her control; like the juddering aftershocks of some seismic event. She felt completely earthed, sated, pleasantly exhausted, and filled with a sense of awe inspired wonderment at the recent catharsis she had undergone.
Her habit; stained with hymeneal blood, the residual sweat of their joyous union- and the glistening remains of his copious gleet...still drained warmly from her generative mons.
Heloise smiled contentedly to herself, staring up at the deepening azure above-... (then she began to laugh, ...loud and hearty- as she hadn't laughed in years!!) Strangely filled with renewed energy, she rose and set to dressing and preparing for her hike back down to the convent...There was a spring in her step , a new revelatory purpose, a feeling of positive enlightenment and residual pagan joy.
Yet, what would the sisters say, if they saw this soiled habit? She puzzled over the stain, then realized that if she turned it inside out, and reconfigured her cape to form a sort of chasuble, back and front, they would assume she was feeling the cool night air... none would be the wiser.
Upon returning to her cell, she could either visit la buanderie, or soak the garb, even burn it if need be.
Making her way first to the Belvedere, and not without a pang of longing and sadness at leaving the day and place of her enlightenment behind, she took her last looks at the antique statuary... still in situ, radiant, smiling, knowing, and copper coloured in the fulgurant gloaming.
Unable to resist running her hands over the hooves and shaggy calves of the Parian form...whose living doppelganger had so recently initiated her into the joys of carnal delight; Heloise lingered a moment at the pagan altar, in very much the same way she so often had in the Sacristy... before the contorted polychrome crucifix of her sacred Lord Jesu...not wanting to leave the object of her loyal veneration... to which she had forever pledged, her entire body, blood, being, soul, living or dead, for all eternity.
She left the temple, and walking down the path that led away from the hill; she noticed something at its verge... something small and white catching the fainter rays of the dying sun. Litter perhaps?... on closer inspection, Heloise realized the object lay half buried in the earth and rotting leaf mould...she reached to touch it, and found it smooth, warm, absorbing the heat of the sun...scrabbling in the earth to grasp its columnar form she realized it was larger than what met her gaze, and tugging with vigour, it came away from the earthy damp with a lewd sucking sound.
It was the marble fascinum!...the missing broken phallic shaft of pink veined Parian! so brutally vandalized from the temple of her deliverer. How long it had lain there was a mystery. A faint greenish tinge of moss marked the muddy line of its half submersion, roughly down the centre of its vertical circumference... she felt the warmth of the smooth stone, finely tooled with raised veins to mimic nature, the big belled head, the elegant lacing of the copious prepuce gathered beneath, the warm striated apricot pink veins of coloured marble through white that so eloquently spoke of its provenance.
Brushing off the worst of the dirt, Heloise marveled at her good fortune and spirited the relic into her reticule, where all roughly ( eight inches or so of it ,) stayed hidden for her journey home.
She lay in the afterglow; post ecstatic, of her sexual awakening. The late hour giving way to an evening of amber rays through green leaves darkening. Ephemeris bugs danced in a molecular cloud of chaotic movement; shot through with golden beams.
Despite realizing her deliverer had gone; and still prone, she shuddered with the radiant tremors of pleasure that coursed periodically through her veins and extremities. This was random, and outwith her control; like the juddering aftershocks of some seismic event. She felt completely earthed, sated, pleasantly exhausted, and filled with a sense of awe inspired wonderment at the recent catharsis she had undergone.
Her habit; stained with hymeneal blood, the residual sweat of their joyous union- and the glistening remains of his copious gleet...still drained warmly from her generative mons.
Heloise smiled contentedly to herself, staring up at the deepening azure above-... (then she began to laugh, ...loud and hearty- as she hadn't laughed in years!!) Strangely filled with renewed energy, she rose and set to dressing and preparing for her hike back down to the convent...There was a spring in her step , a new revelatory purpose, a feeling of positive enlightenment and residual pagan joy.
Yet, what would the sisters say, if they saw this soiled habit? She puzzled over the stain, then realized that if she turned it inside out, and reconfigured her cape to form a sort of chasuble, back and front, they would assume she was feeling the cool night air... none would be the wiser.
Upon returning to her cell, she could either visit la buanderie, or soak the garb, even burn it if need be.
Making her way first to the Belvedere, and not without a pang of longing and sadness at leaving the day and place of her enlightenment behind, she took her last looks at the antique statuary... still in situ, radiant, smiling, knowing, and copper coloured in the fulgurant gloaming.
Unable to resist running her hands over the hooves and shaggy calves of the Parian form...whose living doppelganger had so recently initiated her into the joys of carnal delight; Heloise lingered a moment at the pagan altar, in very much the same way she so often had in the Sacristy... before the contorted polychrome crucifix of her sacred Lord Jesu...not wanting to leave the object of her loyal veneration... to which she had forever pledged, her entire body, blood, being, soul, living or dead, for all eternity.
She left the temple, and walking down the path that led away from the hill; she noticed something at its verge... something small and white catching the fainter rays of the dying sun. Litter perhaps?... on closer inspection, Heloise realized the object lay half buried in the earth and rotting leaf mould...she reached to touch it, and found it smooth, warm, absorbing the heat of the sun...scrabbling in the earth to grasp its columnar form she realized it was larger than what met her gaze, and tugging with vigour, it came away from the earthy damp with a lewd sucking sound.
It was the marble fascinum!...the missing broken phallic shaft of pink veined Parian! so brutally vandalized from the temple of her deliverer. How long it had lain there was a mystery. A faint greenish tinge of moss marked the muddy line of its half submersion, roughly down the centre of its vertical circumference... she felt the warmth of the smooth stone, finely tooled with raised veins to mimic nature, the big belled head, the elegant lacing of the copious prepuce gathered beneath, the warm striated apricot pink veins of coloured marble through white that so eloquently spoke of its provenance.
Brushing off the worst of the dirt, Heloise marveled at her good fortune and spirited the relic into her reticule, where all roughly ( eight inches or so of it ,) stayed hidden for her journey home.
Monday, 2 March 2009
The Temple of the Four Winds: Le Cinquieme Etage
Was she still dreaming? was this happening? The scent of their coital union filled her nostrils; musk,ambergris, sweat ; she knew then ,it had to be real.
She began to joyfully, thankfully, kiss his breasts, his dark nipples, neck , mouth... thrusting her tongue down his throat in the old French style. With each riveting volley of his pounding hips... she felt he reached depths hitherto unimagined- ( but it was not enough ). Greater depth was sought... laying her deftly on the habit still lying at their feet in dappled sunlight; he locked her two feet between his powerful hooves... and like the insistant waves beating for eternity against the sandy shore; he assailed her in a timeless cadence...everlasting.
"Oh Lord you have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you..." the timeless words of Saint Augustin ran madly through her brain... so fitting , so apropos...
Miraculously, Heloise found their mutual joy increasing as the afternoon wore on- the ecstacy of pagan joy; she repeatedly gained from the fortitude and vitality of his manifest physical divinity...the incarnate force and proof of the living marble of his fascinum, moving majestically within her for the first time in her 55 years of life- had lifted a dark and gloomy veil from her until now, ( narrow and blinkered worldview ).
Time stood still as he rutted; half man , half animal... with that combination of brute savagery and gentleness only such a mutation could afford. Time stretched, arced in a bending parabola reaching ever onwards to a feeling of inmost infinity.
Raising her nates, in a rosy mound of lathered flesh before him- he plowed repeatedly into her tingling and expectant fundament... showing her the way of the stallion, the way of the dog, and the way of the ten thousand rhythms.
The urgency and rapidity of their seismic gyrations; she rising backwards to meet his loving blows, brought them to the brink of a million precipices...and back again. He was nearing the crisis of his climax ; while Heloise had been the fortunate recipient of multiple orgasms throughout this epiphany... with the strength of an acrobat, the Satyr then balanced her on an abdominal table of muscle;...his two arms behind him...and Heloise poised on his shaft above.
The miracle progressed on to newer wonderments and heights of ecstatic incredulity....Heloise managed , (incredibly), a new found flexibility of bodily skill in her rather rotund and portly person! Her legs and boots bent up behind her ears , ( like a contortionist in a circus sideshow ), fantastically dexterous in this newfound urgency of collaboration, ( she felt no pain )- endorphines pumped- penultimate joy was near!!
Colours in psychedelic phantasmagoria swam before her consciousness- and the primordial depths of her mind, were plumbed for a procession of fantastic imagery passing before her in a hallucinatory parade of symbolic tropes. And all this to the wild beatings of jungle drums, choral crescendos and orchestral rumblings, blasts and the ringing of bells and gongs!
First the blessed Virgin Mary immaculate, enthroned on a golden sun disc as the Queen of Heaven, smiling sweetly and content, but then morphing into a Christ in Majesty; draped in cloth of gold attended by seraphim in beams of radiant light... he in turn, changed then into the form of ; Almighty god the Father , riding on a cloud... in a golden nimbus of fire, and casting long bolts of lightening with gigantic sinewed hands down from heaven on high.. He then became golden rain, and the Holy Ghost appeared as a giant white dove... beneath a massive rainbow of many a varied hue, too numerous to record! The doves face then dissolved into that of the Christ in torment on the cross... the holy cross devine of her saviour...; his face contorted in a rictus of physical and spiritual agony, uptwisted , as in that of the wooden statue in the sacristy, painted and waxed! This became interchangeable with the rictus of orgasmic spasm in the face of the inexorable Satyr, her new lover... Astounded, Heloises body began to spin- (rising and falling as she spun , up and down on the ruddy tree limb that was his sacred phallus!), a drill bit , a celestial augur, a diamond headed instrument of delving , an oil derrick - a piston, an engine of fleshy cartilage or a mad woodpecker - stuck on autopilot and drilling to the heartwood of a fallen oak. Drilling mercilessly into her rutted gash; impaled on a stake; she spun faster and faster... a whirling top! And Finally, losing all bodily consciousness...her soul, her spirit, spun out, drifted from her bodily shell- and rose heavenward- she watched detached and with great satisfaction and extreme pleasure, as she levitated into the firmament...she became a firey flaming quoit! ...A flaming whitehot ring of volcanic vulva, floating in a star spangled limbo- she became a celestial vagina- a new exalted consciousness, a new constellation in the galaxy floating and careening in the welkin; pierced by a flaming arrow- trailing firey molten chunks of flaming meteorite. Her Labia bled and foamed frantically as her waters of desire broke in waves unstoppable over his erupting organ!! EXPLODING!, inside her! firing several molten jets of hot magma deep within her gut; her fundament-; he roared like a lion as he came! She felt as if a living, gushing goatskin flagon had relinquished its entire contents of heated liquors and oils within her! Heloise screamed aloud to the almighty...! "OOOOOhhh mon dieu sainte vierge sacree offfffreeeggggoooonnnne!!!!, Je jouire!!! JE JOUIRE!!! JE JOUIRE!!! mon dieu on y vas!!! BEEsaynJannn!! de saint sacre coline de binn!!! Je m'en vas voyons Je Vien!! Je Vien!!Voyons!AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!"
Never had so violent a crisis of uncontrollable urgency overcome her!; and combined with this newfound pagan joy; a phenomenon so ancient and innate, primordial, instinctive and spontaneous! Dwarfing and blasting away all illusions to the relatively recent advent of her Christian ethos; now a tiny facet of a much larger matrix , an older crystal of inviolate core.
The ancient primal Strophe finally abated, and their bodies acquiesced and melted in a sweating heap under the heat of the late afternoon sun. An image of the sweet smiling virgin, combined with the sated sweet half smile of l'extase du Sainte Therese; repeatedly stabbed through the heart with the flaming arrows of the eros come seraph...floated sweetly before her minds eye, in a misty pink cloud.
She began to joyfully, thankfully, kiss his breasts, his dark nipples, neck , mouth... thrusting her tongue down his throat in the old French style. With each riveting volley of his pounding hips... she felt he reached depths hitherto unimagined- ( but it was not enough ). Greater depth was sought... laying her deftly on the habit still lying at their feet in dappled sunlight; he locked her two feet between his powerful hooves... and like the insistant waves beating for eternity against the sandy shore; he assailed her in a timeless cadence...everlasting.
"Oh Lord you have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you..." the timeless words of Saint Augustin ran madly through her brain... so fitting , so apropos...
Miraculously, Heloise found their mutual joy increasing as the afternoon wore on- the ecstacy of pagan joy; she repeatedly gained from the fortitude and vitality of his manifest physical divinity...the incarnate force and proof of the living marble of his fascinum, moving majestically within her for the first time in her 55 years of life- had lifted a dark and gloomy veil from her until now, ( narrow and blinkered worldview ).
Time stood still as he rutted; half man , half animal... with that combination of brute savagery and gentleness only such a mutation could afford. Time stretched, arced in a bending parabola reaching ever onwards to a feeling of inmost infinity.
Raising her nates, in a rosy mound of lathered flesh before him- he plowed repeatedly into her tingling and expectant fundament... showing her the way of the stallion, the way of the dog, and the way of the ten thousand rhythms.
The urgency and rapidity of their seismic gyrations; she rising backwards to meet his loving blows, brought them to the brink of a million precipices...and back again. He was nearing the crisis of his climax ; while Heloise had been the fortunate recipient of multiple orgasms throughout this epiphany... with the strength of an acrobat, the Satyr then balanced her on an abdominal table of muscle;...his two arms behind him...and Heloise poised on his shaft above.
The miracle progressed on to newer wonderments and heights of ecstatic incredulity....Heloise managed , (incredibly), a new found flexibility of bodily skill in her rather rotund and portly person! Her legs and boots bent up behind her ears , ( like a contortionist in a circus sideshow ), fantastically dexterous in this newfound urgency of collaboration, ( she felt no pain )- endorphines pumped- penultimate joy was near!!
Colours in psychedelic phantasmagoria swam before her consciousness- and the primordial depths of her mind, were plumbed for a procession of fantastic imagery passing before her in a hallucinatory parade of symbolic tropes. And all this to the wild beatings of jungle drums, choral crescendos and orchestral rumblings, blasts and the ringing of bells and gongs!
First the blessed Virgin Mary immaculate, enthroned on a golden sun disc as the Queen of Heaven, smiling sweetly and content, but then morphing into a Christ in Majesty; draped in cloth of gold attended by seraphim in beams of radiant light... he in turn, changed then into the form of ; Almighty god the Father , riding on a cloud... in a golden nimbus of fire, and casting long bolts of lightening with gigantic sinewed hands down from heaven on high.. He then became golden rain, and the Holy Ghost appeared as a giant white dove... beneath a massive rainbow of many a varied hue, too numerous to record! The doves face then dissolved into that of the Christ in torment on the cross... the holy cross devine of her saviour...; his face contorted in a rictus of physical and spiritual agony, uptwisted , as in that of the wooden statue in the sacristy, painted and waxed! This became interchangeable with the rictus of orgasmic spasm in the face of the inexorable Satyr, her new lover... Astounded, Heloises body began to spin- (rising and falling as she spun , up and down on the ruddy tree limb that was his sacred phallus!), a drill bit , a celestial augur, a diamond headed instrument of delving , an oil derrick - a piston, an engine of fleshy cartilage or a mad woodpecker - stuck on autopilot and drilling to the heartwood of a fallen oak. Drilling mercilessly into her rutted gash; impaled on a stake; she spun faster and faster... a whirling top! And Finally, losing all bodily consciousness...her soul, her spirit, spun out, drifted from her bodily shell- and rose heavenward- she watched detached and with great satisfaction and extreme pleasure, as she levitated into the firmament...she became a firey flaming quoit! ...A flaming whitehot ring of volcanic vulva, floating in a star spangled limbo- she became a celestial vagina- a new exalted consciousness, a new constellation in the galaxy floating and careening in the welkin; pierced by a flaming arrow- trailing firey molten chunks of flaming meteorite. Her Labia bled and foamed frantically as her waters of desire broke in waves unstoppable over his erupting organ!! EXPLODING!, inside her! firing several molten jets of hot magma deep within her gut; her fundament-; he roared like a lion as he came! She felt as if a living, gushing goatskin flagon had relinquished its entire contents of heated liquors and oils within her! Heloise screamed aloud to the almighty...! "OOOOOhhh mon dieu sainte vierge sacree offfffreeeggggoooonnnne!!!!, Je jouire!!! JE JOUIRE!!! JE JOUIRE!!! mon dieu on y vas!!! BEEsaynJannn!! de saint sacre coline de binn!!! Je m'en vas voyons Je Vien!! Je Vien!!Voyons!AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!"
Never had so violent a crisis of uncontrollable urgency overcome her!; and combined with this newfound pagan joy; a phenomenon so ancient and innate, primordial, instinctive and spontaneous! Dwarfing and blasting away all illusions to the relatively recent advent of her Christian ethos; now a tiny facet of a much larger matrix , an older crystal of inviolate core.
The ancient primal Strophe finally abated, and their bodies acquiesced and melted in a sweating heap under the heat of the late afternoon sun. An image of the sweet smiling virgin, combined with the sated sweet half smile of l'extase du Sainte Therese; repeatedly stabbed through the heart with the flaming arrows of the eros come seraph...floated sweetly before her minds eye, in a misty pink cloud.
Saturday, 7 February 2009
The Temple of the Four Winds: Le Quatrieme Etage: Bluestars
Still Fixated to supefaction, by his turgid Fascinum... on her knees and clad in only her camisole and a pair of Vasque hiking boots; Heloise remained in a quandary as to an escape from this predicament.
Thinking she was having a nightmare in daylight, and hoping soon to wake up...but the still amorous Satyr stood proudly, calmly before her with that enigmatic half smile, the brazen stance, and firm intent.
Heloise thought back to the various hagiographic accounts of the many saints she had studied...who in finding themselves in trying perils; overcame their trials through the transcendant powers of prayer...she therefore began to pray to her maker for deliverance from this fiendish, bestial creature.
Beginning to tremble with fear as she did this, and whimpering for mercy...crossing herself...and then in a panicked state trying to crawl past the vision on all fours...but to no avail... as he stepped to either side as she attempted a break for it. Then she dissolved in an hysterical breakdown at his feet...( and hooves they were....the hooves of a goat and,shaggy goat-like calves to his knees , but from there upwards... he had the thighs and body of a young vital man.)
Heloise pounded the ground and his hooves with her fists, pleading to be freed... he spoke not a word; unmoved and gently smiling. Then a strange thing happened;....he placed a gentle hand on her head... and whispered in a gentle tone with melifluous voice..."Alphonsine,.... Alphonsine... je veux te baiser..... je veux te baiser....Alphonsine". Heloise could not believe her ears, as he used her childhood given name...He raised her up to meet his gaze; her head came only to the level of his shoulders...he fixed her eyes with his... she stared into them despite herself... his eyes were limpid green of the colour of the grey-green seas; that deepened in a ring of forest green around the deep black pools of his pupils. He kissed her gently on the forehead, the nose, then her lips, her neck, her breasts, her belly!-... and then gently caressing her queynte muff- he knelt before her...and with hot animal breath, lips, and tongue, began to lick her queynte, " full savourly!!...ere she was ware of this!!" He caressed in a loving way, her flanks and her nates as he did this, ... while Heloise continued to whimper quietly.....but his earthy magic then began to take effect... he was kindling a rising fire in her loins!... a fire never felt before!- And now, now! her fear gave way to a strange and magical awakening, that echoed the spring!... she looked down at the golden mass of curls and locks now glued like a mollusc or limpet to her pelvis...and throwing her head back into the pounding sunlight of midday at its highest axis....Heloise moaned softly in a new sensation of enveloping pleasure!
The bees buzzed, the birds chirped an inquisitive voyeuristic approval- yes... they knew the ancient score. They sang a reverent knowing chorus...these sounds mingled with his hungered breath, his salivating, probing tongue, flicking in and out of her long neglected queynte... her labia swelled in a rubeate engorgement -tingling with happy electrical sparks of needles and pins, causing her spinal cord to shiver with waves of pleasure rising to her brain...., then bouncing back down again to her vulvic mound.
She gently beat his shoulders with her fists- clutched madly at his locks...holding him firmly in place if he desisted, ( for even a moment!), from his noble task... she grew tyrannical, greedy for pleasure-" Oh who? What are your oh whooooo ,....ooooooohhhh....nnnnngggh uunnnhhh,,ooooh!!"she intoned, moaningly...."Oh , OOOOh! Yeh,,,....Yeesssssss!!!Yeh ,nnnn,.....so good!, Oh so goood!!! Oh"...she gasped in anguished crisis.
He lapped, and smacked his lips, he tongued manfully at her labia majora and minora, in a lavish lickerous circular motion ending briefly to linger on her clitoral jewel-... this sent a shuddering ruction through her body with a jolt!, causing her to thrust her pelvic girdle at his nose, his mouth , ... maniacally! and with no conscious bodily control whatsoever!
He began to finger her nether regions, with a freehand, gradually, gently, forcing a digit into her anus-!...she found new joy in this , so unexpected, this double and simultaneous ministration- of new sensate excitement...riveting her booted feet to the sod!
After what seemed an age... he stopped...stood up, smiled into her sweat streaked, flushed face; red with urgency and distraction. Then, with sudden super-human brute animal strength!!... he lifted her bodily up to the level of his chest....and lowered her steadily, gradually yet firmly onto the patient, and still pulsing shaft of his massively rigid and deeply veined spear of a phallic fascinum- as hard as steel, oak, glass or bone!..its head ; a full blown mitred corona of mushroom cap! enpurpled and pink with lifes-blood- replete...! in a gathered collar of retracted foreskin, crested, beneath la fleche, of the magic arrowhead pointing up to a glistening urethral slit that was both its' single eye and its' mouth.
The insertion of the engorged head alone, caused Heloise to scream with joyful shock, and to grip her legs instantly, and tightly, around his powerful torso- her arms on his shoulders, ... he gave a solid , swift, initial thrust !! plunging deeply into the hilt! grunting- like the wild halfman , half beast that he was!
Heloise felt an explosion inside her , but this was only the beginning of her epiphany!!, Her toes curled in her boots!; she bit into his chest, she dug her nails into his back!! an overload of stimulae filled her brain. He stood motionless- holding her up by the nates, in his powerful forearms...then lifted her slowly up the length of his rooted tree incumbent! Then,... just as it seemed she would come off the end!,... back down the long gliding journey she came with a fleshy SMACK!,... as their pelvic basins locked again in joyful unison. With each rise her vulva clamoured , gripped , clawed itself back-!! clutching!, Clamping!- squeezing his member! Greedy!... not to relinquish this newfound treasured gem!
Colours swam before her eyes, ...balls of flame and light descended in massed clusters, and broke in floral explosions deep within her psyche and her soul!!
Thinking she was having a nightmare in daylight, and hoping soon to wake up...but the still amorous Satyr stood proudly, calmly before her with that enigmatic half smile, the brazen stance, and firm intent.
Heloise thought back to the various hagiographic accounts of the many saints she had studied...who in finding themselves in trying perils; overcame their trials through the transcendant powers of prayer...she therefore began to pray to her maker for deliverance from this fiendish, bestial creature.
Beginning to tremble with fear as she did this, and whimpering for mercy...crossing herself...and then in a panicked state trying to crawl past the vision on all fours...but to no avail... as he stepped to either side as she attempted a break for it. Then she dissolved in an hysterical breakdown at his feet...( and hooves they were....the hooves of a goat and,shaggy goat-like calves to his knees , but from there upwards... he had the thighs and body of a young vital man.)
Heloise pounded the ground and his hooves with her fists, pleading to be freed... he spoke not a word; unmoved and gently smiling. Then a strange thing happened;....he placed a gentle hand on her head... and whispered in a gentle tone with melifluous voice..."Alphonsine,.... Alphonsine... je veux te baiser..... je veux te baiser....Alphonsine". Heloise could not believe her ears, as he used her childhood given name...He raised her up to meet his gaze; her head came only to the level of his shoulders...he fixed her eyes with his... she stared into them despite herself... his eyes were limpid green of the colour of the grey-green seas; that deepened in a ring of forest green around the deep black pools of his pupils. He kissed her gently on the forehead, the nose, then her lips, her neck, her breasts, her belly!-... and then gently caressing her queynte muff- he knelt before her...and with hot animal breath, lips, and tongue, began to lick her queynte, " full savourly!!...ere she was ware of this!!" He caressed in a loving way, her flanks and her nates as he did this, ... while Heloise continued to whimper quietly.....but his earthy magic then began to take effect... he was kindling a rising fire in her loins!... a fire never felt before!- And now, now! her fear gave way to a strange and magical awakening, that echoed the spring!... she looked down at the golden mass of curls and locks now glued like a mollusc or limpet to her pelvis...and throwing her head back into the pounding sunlight of midday at its highest axis....Heloise moaned softly in a new sensation of enveloping pleasure!
The bees buzzed, the birds chirped an inquisitive voyeuristic approval- yes... they knew the ancient score. They sang a reverent knowing chorus...these sounds mingled with his hungered breath, his salivating, probing tongue, flicking in and out of her long neglected queynte... her labia swelled in a rubeate engorgement -tingling with happy electrical sparks of needles and pins, causing her spinal cord to shiver with waves of pleasure rising to her brain...., then bouncing back down again to her vulvic mound.
She gently beat his shoulders with her fists- clutched madly at his locks...holding him firmly in place if he desisted, ( for even a moment!), from his noble task... she grew tyrannical, greedy for pleasure-" Oh who? What are your oh whooooo ,....ooooooohhhh....nnnnngggh uunnnhhh,,ooooh!!"she intoned, moaningly...."Oh , OOOOh! Yeh,,,....Yeesssssss!!!Yeh ,nnnn,.....so good!, Oh so goood!!! Oh"...she gasped in anguished crisis.
He lapped, and smacked his lips, he tongued manfully at her labia majora and minora, in a lavish lickerous circular motion ending briefly to linger on her clitoral jewel-... this sent a shuddering ruction through her body with a jolt!, causing her to thrust her pelvic girdle at his nose, his mouth , ... maniacally! and with no conscious bodily control whatsoever!
He began to finger her nether regions, with a freehand, gradually, gently, forcing a digit into her anus-!...she found new joy in this , so unexpected, this double and simultaneous ministration- of new sensate excitement...riveting her booted feet to the sod!
After what seemed an age... he stopped...stood up, smiled into her sweat streaked, flushed face; red with urgency and distraction. Then, with sudden super-human brute animal strength!!... he lifted her bodily up to the level of his chest....and lowered her steadily, gradually yet firmly onto the patient, and still pulsing shaft of his massively rigid and deeply veined spear of a phallic fascinum- as hard as steel, oak, glass or bone!..its head ; a full blown mitred corona of mushroom cap! enpurpled and pink with lifes-blood- replete...! in a gathered collar of retracted foreskin, crested, beneath la fleche, of the magic arrowhead pointing up to a glistening urethral slit that was both its' single eye and its' mouth.
The insertion of the engorged head alone, caused Heloise to scream with joyful shock, and to grip her legs instantly, and tightly, around his powerful torso- her arms on his shoulders, ... he gave a solid , swift, initial thrust !! plunging deeply into the hilt! grunting- like the wild halfman , half beast that he was!
Heloise felt an explosion inside her , but this was only the beginning of her epiphany!!, Her toes curled in her boots!; she bit into his chest, she dug her nails into his back!! an overload of stimulae filled her brain. He stood motionless- holding her up by the nates, in his powerful forearms...then lifted her slowly up the length of his rooted tree incumbent! Then,... just as it seemed she would come off the end!,... back down the long gliding journey she came with a fleshy SMACK!,... as their pelvic basins locked again in joyful unison. With each rise her vulva clamoured , gripped , clawed itself back-!! clutching!, Clamping!- squeezing his member! Greedy!... not to relinquish this newfound treasured gem!
Colours swam before her eyes, ...balls of flame and light descended in massed clusters, and broke in floral explosions deep within her psyche and her soul!!
Monday, 2 February 2009
The Temple of the Four Winds; Part Three: Bluestars
Heloise turned to see nothing-but what was there before; the dappled sun on marble, mosses and lichens here and there , soft breezes sighing through the collonade in the warmth of midday.
Framed in the entrance; the grinning Satyr and the laughing Maenad, anticipating imminent pagan joy.
They disgusted her- they had to go; that was it, upon her return to La Couvent de la Sang Precieux, she would draft a petition; a petition to post in the Marche du village... a petition to have that ungodly idol to (wanton lust), in bestial form), removed,destroyed,shipped out and pulverized to plaster dust if need be. Thence to have another more Christian piece take its place on the Parian plinth. "Our Lady du Quatre Vents de Vaude", perhaps- "Christ in Majesty" or better still , "Saint Francois d'Assisi des Oiseaux", infinitely more fitting , she felt, to this ornithological oasis.
However, she thought, 'it could take time, there could be opposition', she would have to plan her attack with care. In the meantime, while she remained lost in pensive cogitation, the sun, the lemonade, the packed lunch had an eventual effect; she had to soon answer a "call of nature".
Heloise gathered herself and made her way to the copsewood, entered it and ten yards in came upon a small sunlit clearing, quite cut off from the belvedere itself , and overhung with weeping Birch, - whose whisps of pendulous pannicles swayed gently back and forth in the dulcet breeze.
She had found the perfect outdoor room in which to relieve herself of the 'ungraceful load'. Defecation and urination were two bodily functions that both irked and embarassed her greatly, they had to be gotten through with the utmost care, planning and decorum.
Not a soul was about, but having to be certain, she looked about furtively nevertheless, before beginning to disrobe.Her wrappings were voluminous, the wimpled and winged cap, the peplum , the habit, the cambric slip beneath ,down to the final culottes and camisole , (she left on), this last item , which covered her ample breasts but left her midriff and lower extremities free to the air.
This left her ready for the 'filthy' and 'disagreeable' task at hand. Straddling a log, and holding onto a convenient overhanging tree branch to steady herself, she squatted , to relieve herself. The scent of her own earth, disgusted her sensibilities further, the hissing whirr of her steaming urine glistened in the hot sun... and she prayed to be done with this quickly; crossing herself as she proceeded, Flies , she knew, would not be long from appearing to gather for their disgusting feasting and egg laying on her waste material. Still evacuating and emptying her bladder, she whispered under her breath to the almighty, " Would you had made us otherwise oh great creator....! Why this disgusting affliction?" Finally she had finished, and crossing herself yet again, began to clean herself with some linens brought specifically for the purpose, and then began to root around for leaves, mosses and twigs to cover the deposited, unlovely mess.
Feeling much improved she busied herself to gather her garments, (humming her favourite hymn as she did; 'Panis Angelicus'). She knelt to pick up her habit, and then, suddenly, ... looking up took a short gasp of breath, to see a sight so unexpected , so initially terrifying, that it almost knocked her off her feet.
It was the Ithyphallic Pan of the Temple!, incarnate, standing in the glorious sunlight only ten feet away from her. He lived!, he breathed!, he stood before her full of the ruddy rosiness and tanned tautness of living human/animal flesh. The hair of his head hung in sandy golden ringlets of tight little curls down to his shoulders. The torso was a bronze delineation of gently expansive sinew...and hairless but for a thin line of golden down that ran between his breasts ending below at the forested region of his turgid tumescence; couched and nestled in a rufous golden bush of tightly knitted pubic hair.
Heloise, gave a short feeble yelp, falling to her knees crossing herself repeatedly and blinking at the sight before her. Was it some mirage?, some trick of the afternoon sunlight?... she prayed to sweet Jesus , and God The Almighty, but to no avail... the beast stood before her in a kind of sunbeam of radiance. "Who, Whooo er a are you....??" , she stammered imploringly. The Satyr made no move, but only smiled a calm, warm and friendly smile...showing perfectly formed pearly white teeth.
He seemed younger and more handsome than his prototype in the temple, his eyes glowed warm and green and kindly....not at all the beastly savage he seemed im marble.
Heloise knelt transfixed, and found herself gazing rapt , almost hypnotized, as if by a Cobra and snake charmer, ( the kind she had heard of in the Orient), and had seen in books.
Still she stared and found her eyes magnetically fixated on his throbbing Phallus,....this ; she had never seen the like of before... it was perfectly formed; a golden rigid shaft standing upright from its' nest, and replete with the elegant lacing of a voluminous prepuce; the owner slid leisurely up and down the root with one hand. Heloise felt a rising drum in her head and temples.... rising hotly up into her skull in a rhythmic pounding cadence that matched her pounding heartbeat... and in tune with the throbbing ,bobbing thrum and pulse of the fleshy animal member before her , that hit the belly of the beast at regular intervals.
Framed in the entrance; the grinning Satyr and the laughing Maenad, anticipating imminent pagan joy.
They disgusted her- they had to go; that was it, upon her return to La Couvent de la Sang Precieux, she would draft a petition; a petition to post in the Marche du village... a petition to have that ungodly idol to (wanton lust), in bestial form), removed,destroyed,shipped out and pulverized to plaster dust if need be. Thence to have another more Christian piece take its place on the Parian plinth. "Our Lady du Quatre Vents de Vaude", perhaps- "Christ in Majesty" or better still , "Saint Francois d'Assisi des Oiseaux", infinitely more fitting , she felt, to this ornithological oasis.
However, she thought, 'it could take time, there could be opposition', she would have to plan her attack with care. In the meantime, while she remained lost in pensive cogitation, the sun, the lemonade, the packed lunch had an eventual effect; she had to soon answer a "call of nature".
Heloise gathered herself and made her way to the copsewood, entered it and ten yards in came upon a small sunlit clearing, quite cut off from the belvedere itself , and overhung with weeping Birch, - whose whisps of pendulous pannicles swayed gently back and forth in the dulcet breeze.
She had found the perfect outdoor room in which to relieve herself of the 'ungraceful load'. Defecation and urination were two bodily functions that both irked and embarassed her greatly, they had to be gotten through with the utmost care, planning and decorum.
Not a soul was about, but having to be certain, she looked about furtively nevertheless, before beginning to disrobe.Her wrappings were voluminous, the wimpled and winged cap, the peplum , the habit, the cambric slip beneath ,down to the final culottes and camisole , (she left on), this last item , which covered her ample breasts but left her midriff and lower extremities free to the air.
This left her ready for the 'filthy' and 'disagreeable' task at hand. Straddling a log, and holding onto a convenient overhanging tree branch to steady herself, she squatted , to relieve herself. The scent of her own earth, disgusted her sensibilities further, the hissing whirr of her steaming urine glistened in the hot sun... and she prayed to be done with this quickly; crossing herself as she proceeded, Flies , she knew, would not be long from appearing to gather for their disgusting feasting and egg laying on her waste material. Still evacuating and emptying her bladder, she whispered under her breath to the almighty, " Would you had made us otherwise oh great creator....! Why this disgusting affliction?" Finally she had finished, and crossing herself yet again, began to clean herself with some linens brought specifically for the purpose, and then began to root around for leaves, mosses and twigs to cover the deposited, unlovely mess.
Feeling much improved she busied herself to gather her garments, (humming her favourite hymn as she did; 'Panis Angelicus'). She knelt to pick up her habit, and then, suddenly, ... looking up took a short gasp of breath, to see a sight so unexpected , so initially terrifying, that it almost knocked her off her feet.
It was the Ithyphallic Pan of the Temple!, incarnate, standing in the glorious sunlight only ten feet away from her. He lived!, he breathed!, he stood before her full of the ruddy rosiness and tanned tautness of living human/animal flesh. The hair of his head hung in sandy golden ringlets of tight little curls down to his shoulders. The torso was a bronze delineation of gently expansive sinew...and hairless but for a thin line of golden down that ran between his breasts ending below at the forested region of his turgid tumescence; couched and nestled in a rufous golden bush of tightly knitted pubic hair.
Heloise, gave a short feeble yelp, falling to her knees crossing herself repeatedly and blinking at the sight before her. Was it some mirage?, some trick of the afternoon sunlight?... she prayed to sweet Jesus , and God The Almighty, but to no avail... the beast stood before her in a kind of sunbeam of radiance. "Who, Whooo er a are you....??" , she stammered imploringly. The Satyr made no move, but only smiled a calm, warm and friendly smile...showing perfectly formed pearly white teeth.
He seemed younger and more handsome than his prototype in the temple, his eyes glowed warm and green and kindly....not at all the beastly savage he seemed im marble.
Heloise knelt transfixed, and found herself gazing rapt , almost hypnotized, as if by a Cobra and snake charmer, ( the kind she had heard of in the Orient), and had seen in books.
Still she stared and found her eyes magnetically fixated on his throbbing Phallus,....this ; she had never seen the like of before... it was perfectly formed; a golden rigid shaft standing upright from its' nest, and replete with the elegant lacing of a voluminous prepuce; the owner slid leisurely up and down the root with one hand. Heloise felt a rising drum in her head and temples.... rising hotly up into her skull in a rhythmic pounding cadence that matched her pounding heartbeat... and in tune with the throbbing ,bobbing thrum and pulse of the fleshy animal member before her , that hit the belly of the beast at regular intervals.
Tuesday, 27 January 2009
The Temple of the Four Winds; continued, Bluestars
In spring , les cantons de la Vaude were a riot of green, gold, blue, purple and white. Sunshine on treebark had a transient glow, that betrayed a chameleon chroma progressing to sunset hues of burnished cinnabar. Orange pink shot through with gold.
Heloise rejoiced in Gods creation-(She could plainly see; that everywhere it was apparent, the hand of the creator was visible in all that now unfolded before her.
Twice monthly, she had two free days wherein her time was all her own. A favourite diversion was walking in the general vicinity of the vast parklike acreage, just beyond the orchard perimeter; that bounded the convent walls on its' southern and eastern flanks.
Here began the wilder wooded region of Oak and Ash groves- spreading outwards in all directions.
The area was intersected at random by numerous mazelike footpaths-and Heloise brought a packed lunch, making a day of her wanderings. The air, she found refreshing, the birdsong; uplifting- and it was during these perambulations, she felt nearest her beloved God. Had he not created all this natural beauty with his two bare hands? She asked herself. -Two mighty hands , skilled , massive giant hands, ( all powerful, but all knowing , all gentle harmony )- Was he not the prime mover in all things? She tended to think of the almighty as a -"Heavenly Father"; (the white haired, bearded patriarch of the Cappella Sistina variety ), a bodily , corporeal form ; she ascribed to the divinity in her minds eye, despite her disdain for her own and other earthbound forms. In these, she noted weakness and imperfections.
Heloise wandered on drinking the air before her - she relished the solitude which gave her the feeling that she owned the pathways and the experience of walking them- on her own. , Hating it , when interrupted by encountering any other like minded walkers , ( with dogs or otherwise ). This somehow ruined the meditative oneness of being in direct communication with "the creator".HIM... For this reason, she often enjoyed going " off piste "; as she put it , " what an original thought!" she exclaimed to herself... haring off through the undergrowth and twiggery, thus avoiding the possibility of any unwanted meetings.
This could prove difficult given her Nuns' habit, Gray peplum and wimpled and winged headgear. However, she took pains and somehow managed to gradually move from clearing to clearing.
In the centre of the wood was a large low hill; wooded to the top where a vantage point comprising two stepped plateaux gave onto a wooded ring of clearings and copsewood. At the centre of the higher plateau, stood an old Belvedere, dating from 1759;- "The Temple of the Four Winds"- as it was known to les Vaudeoise- had been part of an estate holding, of Les Vaudin de Vaude la Desosser- from time immemorial-.
Now an elegant ruin, the neo classical structure took the form of a small , openwork marble replica of the ancient temple of Cybele , ( Vesta ) , at Rome. Its marble collonade, held up a dentellated architrave, which in turn, held the circular portico roofed with old blue ceramic tile of the colour of smalt. Above this , a wrought iron weathervane, (much rusted), in the form of an astrolabe spun willfully in the tempermental breeze.
Inside this gem of an antique folly, - an ode to neo-classicism; stood a central plinth of finest pink Parian, ... thereon a marble Pan of the same stone; engaged in full chase of, ...( and on point of capture of...) a laughing Maenad , nude and nubile, but for a spraying cascade of carved blooms that tumbled as garland between her legs, just covering the dusky Mons Veneris, just hidden tantalizingly from view. The Randy Satyr, ( also nude ), by contrast , sported the remains of an attentive Phallus-(long since broken off by a vandal, or antiquarian collector). His fawns ears were intact, his youthful torso and thighs tapered to goats hooves beneath; shaggy with the finely tooled fur of a wild animal.
Loosely modeled on the Apollo and Daphne of the Bernini Baroque, the unknown sculptor had spared no attention to detail- the animated vitality of the dynamic , lifelike composition conveyed a great sense of upward movement, lift and thrust- in an essentially static medium.
( It was a real fixed contradiction-; dynamic movement conveyed in frozen stasis) - the human forms strained for eternity; to break free from material encasement- imprisoned forever in the stone, but always on the verge of release.
Heloise hated the work; ( considering it a pagan affront to the one true GOD , and a corrupting influence among the novices, and youth generally in the banlieu).
Heloise made her way towards this structure-, not to see it, but to get the fantastic panoramic view- that could only be had from that spot.... she was tired , hungry and sat down at last , on a marble bench in front, beside the low embankment upon which the whole structure stood.
She sighed with relief in the warm midday sun of early June. Bees buzzed distractedly in the gently wafting breezes- large white cumulus powderpuffs of cloud- placed evenly at intervals drifted slowly above in the blue ether. Each was small enough to never impede the suns rays- slowly scudding towards her over a warm sunny landscape- she gazed far out over the land- the fields of new green shoots, golden and green light- Oak leaf burgeonings lately arrived- almost copper orange veined with green saponified yellow in spangles of shimmering windripple.
Heloise contentedly nibbled her sandwiches , drank the lemonade- all was right with the world- doves cooed in the nearby copsewood- insects beamed and new leaves whispered softly about her. Yet, ... something , one small thing was amiss, ... the presence of the old folly behind her, the presence of the old belvedere, ... she felt it behind her - almost burning a hole in her back, into the back of her head and the core of her psyche.
Heloise rejoiced in Gods creation-(She could plainly see; that everywhere it was apparent, the hand of the creator was visible in all that now unfolded before her.
Twice monthly, she had two free days wherein her time was all her own. A favourite diversion was walking in the general vicinity of the vast parklike acreage, just beyond the orchard perimeter; that bounded the convent walls on its' southern and eastern flanks.
Here began the wilder wooded region of Oak and Ash groves- spreading outwards in all directions.
The area was intersected at random by numerous mazelike footpaths-and Heloise brought a packed lunch, making a day of her wanderings. The air, she found refreshing, the birdsong; uplifting- and it was during these perambulations, she felt nearest her beloved God. Had he not created all this natural beauty with his two bare hands? She asked herself. -Two mighty hands , skilled , massive giant hands, ( all powerful, but all knowing , all gentle harmony )- Was he not the prime mover in all things? She tended to think of the almighty as a -"Heavenly Father"; (the white haired, bearded patriarch of the Cappella Sistina variety ), a bodily , corporeal form ; she ascribed to the divinity in her minds eye, despite her disdain for her own and other earthbound forms. In these, she noted weakness and imperfections.
Heloise wandered on drinking the air before her - she relished the solitude which gave her the feeling that she owned the pathways and the experience of walking them- on her own. , Hating it , when interrupted by encountering any other like minded walkers , ( with dogs or otherwise ). This somehow ruined the meditative oneness of being in direct communication with "the creator".HIM... For this reason, she often enjoyed going " off piste "; as she put it , " what an original thought!" she exclaimed to herself... haring off through the undergrowth and twiggery, thus avoiding the possibility of any unwanted meetings.
This could prove difficult given her Nuns' habit, Gray peplum and wimpled and winged headgear. However, she took pains and somehow managed to gradually move from clearing to clearing.
In the centre of the wood was a large low hill; wooded to the top where a vantage point comprising two stepped plateaux gave onto a wooded ring of clearings and copsewood. At the centre of the higher plateau, stood an old Belvedere, dating from 1759;- "The Temple of the Four Winds"- as it was known to les Vaudeoise- had been part of an estate holding, of Les Vaudin de Vaude la Desosser- from time immemorial-.
Now an elegant ruin, the neo classical structure took the form of a small , openwork marble replica of the ancient temple of Cybele , ( Vesta ) , at Rome. Its marble collonade, held up a dentellated architrave, which in turn, held the circular portico roofed with old blue ceramic tile of the colour of smalt. Above this , a wrought iron weathervane, (much rusted), in the form of an astrolabe spun willfully in the tempermental breeze.
Inside this gem of an antique folly, - an ode to neo-classicism; stood a central plinth of finest pink Parian, ... thereon a marble Pan of the same stone; engaged in full chase of, ...( and on point of capture of...) a laughing Maenad , nude and nubile, but for a spraying cascade of carved blooms that tumbled as garland between her legs, just covering the dusky Mons Veneris, just hidden tantalizingly from view. The Randy Satyr, ( also nude ), by contrast , sported the remains of an attentive Phallus-(long since broken off by a vandal, or antiquarian collector). His fawns ears were intact, his youthful torso and thighs tapered to goats hooves beneath; shaggy with the finely tooled fur of a wild animal.
Loosely modeled on the Apollo and Daphne of the Bernini Baroque, the unknown sculptor had spared no attention to detail- the animated vitality of the dynamic , lifelike composition conveyed a great sense of upward movement, lift and thrust- in an essentially static medium.
( It was a real fixed contradiction-; dynamic movement conveyed in frozen stasis) - the human forms strained for eternity; to break free from material encasement- imprisoned forever in the stone, but always on the verge of release.
Heloise hated the work; ( considering it a pagan affront to the one true GOD , and a corrupting influence among the novices, and youth generally in the banlieu).
Heloise made her way towards this structure-, not to see it, but to get the fantastic panoramic view- that could only be had from that spot.... she was tired , hungry and sat down at last , on a marble bench in front, beside the low embankment upon which the whole structure stood.
She sighed with relief in the warm midday sun of early June. Bees buzzed distractedly in the gently wafting breezes- large white cumulus powderpuffs of cloud- placed evenly at intervals drifted slowly above in the blue ether. Each was small enough to never impede the suns rays- slowly scudding towards her over a warm sunny landscape- she gazed far out over the land- the fields of new green shoots, golden and green light- Oak leaf burgeonings lately arrived- almost copper orange veined with green saponified yellow in spangles of shimmering windripple.
Heloise contentedly nibbled her sandwiches , drank the lemonade- all was right with the world- doves cooed in the nearby copsewood- insects beamed and new leaves whispered softly about her. Yet, ... something , one small thing was amiss, ... the presence of the old folly behind her, the presence of the old belvedere, ... she felt it behind her - almost burning a hole in her back, into the back of her head and the core of her psyche.
Monday, 19 January 2009
The Temple of the Four Winds: Reprise, Bluestars
Heloise de la Vachebobois, nee Alphonsine...( with the relinquishing of a former political career in le canton de Vaude la Desosser; changed her first name to Heloise, in honour of one of her medieval heroines ).
Heloise then took orders to become a 'bride of Christ'; en effet, betrothed to almighty god; Le dieu Sacree-. The abstract concept-, fantastic in its' sense of import and moment of a divine covenant with the almighty; filled a yawning void in terms of her reasoning intellect, coupled with an overweening sense of missionary zeal and purpose, generously slaked with the pungent mortar of righteous indignation.
She joined les Soeurs de la 'Couvent de la Sang Precieux'- as a willing votaress and supplicant to the order-, and despite the distinct reference in the naming of the convent, to the physicality of lifes blood, and by proxy , the body of the church through which it flowed; ( directly to God ), - her sensibilities forever eschewed and denied any corporeal or sensual awareness in terms of physical bodily feeling or function as an integral part of animal nature.
Such a thought would be anathema to Heloise, who secretly loathed her body , and all or any reference to the taint of human flesh, ( save through the substantive metaphorical symbolism and iconography of the Catholic faith, through which the interminable filth ; ( as she saw it ), of humanity in general could be saved and purified.
Indeed , she took pains to dress and undress herself in darkness, avoiding all vanities such as mirrors and window glass-, even going so far as to disturb the placid reflective drinking pool of La Fontaine de la Vierge des'eaux; before her face could appear in it when fetching water. This ancient well stood at the centre of the cloistered quad of la Couvent , and was its only source of fresh water, besides the ten rain butts that caught the celestial run off for the needs of le potager and flower gardens so well tended by la vielle Soeur Agathe and her charges.
In short , Heloise studiously avoided any reminder of her rather plain and unprepossessing visage. Instead, she threw herself wholeheartedly into devotional service of her dear Lord Jesu- and almighty God- the Holy Ghost and the sacred blessed Virgin.
She was a paragon of virtue, and the Abess , La mere Marjolaine Valdevendage' was quietly overjoyed to have such a willing servant, a tireless worker and a shining example of religious devotion to all members of the convent; not least, the novice students of divinity, of whom eventually, Heloise undertook to inculcate in the saintly ways and means of the order.
Years passed, Heloise became known throughout the wider community as a defender of the faith, - and also a highly vocal , political and social commentator on any and every issue that could be brought to her attention. She would despatch her council to all and sundry in the village market place in an opinionated black and white, either/or approach to legislation , reinforcing the rigidity of her self righteous certainties on all issues with the ancient trope of penance and reward; backing up her moral ultimatums with oft quoted scripture and the biblical decree and threat of Almighty God...the sacrificial passion of Christ, his suffering for the sins (entire) of all humanity, and the impending neccessity for the world to repent of its sins in preparation for universal judgement and the Celestial Rapture.
One of Soeur de la Vachebobois' many tasks was as keeper and guardian of the Sacristy and all its devotional contents. Oft of an evening after Vespers, she would stand rapt and in piteous tears of anguish combined with a strange elation and joy, gazing upwards at the lifesize Christe Sacree; a painted and carved crucifixion in wood , ivory and polychrome waxes, so lifelike in its contorted agonies, stigmata, and dripping ruby drops of onset. Holding her own ivory crucifix and rosary close to her heaving bosom, she marveled at the fortitude and omnipotence of this divine being who overcame the lowly goals of his torturers, now burning in eternal hellfire... and he the chosen one, the righteous son of god immaculate rose from the dead to save the world from sin. Candlelight flickered and caressed the glowing tautness of his straining sinews, glistening with the torturous sweaty weight of his own body, his tilting head , eyes upraised to his father in heaven, the ell shaped line of his neck, dripping streams of blood that directed the gaze downwards to his prominent painted nipples, further down to a washboard abdomen attenuated to his draped loins, where the ragged linen, (his mean and meagre raiment) , protruded in a knotted bulge that bespoke an earthly genesis.
Heloise ; overcome with emotion, clasped his feet in both her hands and kissed them repeatedly with salty tear stained lips and roving and reverent hands in exalted supplication, while uttering numerous feverish whispered devotions of undying love, service and eternal faith.
Heloise then took orders to become a 'bride of Christ'; en effet, betrothed to almighty god; Le dieu Sacree-. The abstract concept-, fantastic in its' sense of import and moment of a divine covenant with the almighty; filled a yawning void in terms of her reasoning intellect, coupled with an overweening sense of missionary zeal and purpose, generously slaked with the pungent mortar of righteous indignation.
She joined les Soeurs de la 'Couvent de la Sang Precieux'- as a willing votaress and supplicant to the order-, and despite the distinct reference in the naming of the convent, to the physicality of lifes blood, and by proxy , the body of the church through which it flowed; ( directly to God ), - her sensibilities forever eschewed and denied any corporeal or sensual awareness in terms of physical bodily feeling or function as an integral part of animal nature.
Such a thought would be anathema to Heloise, who secretly loathed her body , and all or any reference to the taint of human flesh, ( save through the substantive metaphorical symbolism and iconography of the Catholic faith, through which the interminable filth ; ( as she saw it ), of humanity in general could be saved and purified.
Indeed , she took pains to dress and undress herself in darkness, avoiding all vanities such as mirrors and window glass-, even going so far as to disturb the placid reflective drinking pool of La Fontaine de la Vierge des'eaux; before her face could appear in it when fetching water. This ancient well stood at the centre of the cloistered quad of la Couvent , and was its only source of fresh water, besides the ten rain butts that caught the celestial run off for the needs of le potager and flower gardens so well tended by la vielle Soeur Agathe and her charges.
In short , Heloise studiously avoided any reminder of her rather plain and unprepossessing visage. Instead, she threw herself wholeheartedly into devotional service of her dear Lord Jesu- and almighty God- the Holy Ghost and the sacred blessed Virgin.
She was a paragon of virtue, and the Abess , La mere Marjolaine Valdevendage' was quietly overjoyed to have such a willing servant, a tireless worker and a shining example of religious devotion to all members of the convent; not least, the novice students of divinity, of whom eventually, Heloise undertook to inculcate in the saintly ways and means of the order.
Years passed, Heloise became known throughout the wider community as a defender of the faith, - and also a highly vocal , political and social commentator on any and every issue that could be brought to her attention. She would despatch her council to all and sundry in the village market place in an opinionated black and white, either/or approach to legislation , reinforcing the rigidity of her self righteous certainties on all issues with the ancient trope of penance and reward; backing up her moral ultimatums with oft quoted scripture and the biblical decree and threat of Almighty God...the sacrificial passion of Christ, his suffering for the sins (entire) of all humanity, and the impending neccessity for the world to repent of its sins in preparation for universal judgement and the Celestial Rapture.
One of Soeur de la Vachebobois' many tasks was as keeper and guardian of the Sacristy and all its devotional contents. Oft of an evening after Vespers, she would stand rapt and in piteous tears of anguish combined with a strange elation and joy, gazing upwards at the lifesize Christe Sacree; a painted and carved crucifixion in wood , ivory and polychrome waxes, so lifelike in its contorted agonies, stigmata, and dripping ruby drops of onset. Holding her own ivory crucifix and rosary close to her heaving bosom, she marveled at the fortitude and omnipotence of this divine being who overcame the lowly goals of his torturers, now burning in eternal hellfire... and he the chosen one, the righteous son of god immaculate rose from the dead to save the world from sin. Candlelight flickered and caressed the glowing tautness of his straining sinews, glistening with the torturous sweaty weight of his own body, his tilting head , eyes upraised to his father in heaven, the ell shaped line of his neck, dripping streams of blood that directed the gaze downwards to his prominent painted nipples, further down to a washboard abdomen attenuated to his draped loins, where the ragged linen, (his mean and meagre raiment) , protruded in a knotted bulge that bespoke an earthly genesis.
Heloise ; overcome with emotion, clasped his feet in both her hands and kissed them repeatedly with salty tear stained lips and roving and reverent hands in exalted supplication, while uttering numerous feverish whispered devotions of undying love, service and eternal faith.
Monday, 12 January 2009
Fraser and His Scottish Garden: The Temple of the Four Winds; Bluestars Draft
The outline follows a loose narrative regarding an epiphany in the life of Soeur Heloise de Vachebobois. Whose minor hagiography is recorded in terms of her wonted peripatetic in the bosky dell of le couvent de la sang precieux, wherein she discovers the divine occurence of a miraculous intervention in the vicinity of the Temple of The Four Winds.
The desultory ramble culminates in both a spiritual and physical revelation of the unalterable laws within nature, provoking a cathartic revision in her hitherto adamantine catholic proclivities. Jadis Bluestars.
The desultory ramble culminates in both a spiritual and physical revelation of the unalterable laws within nature, provoking a cathartic revision in her hitherto adamantine catholic proclivities. Jadis Bluestars.
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