Heresy of The Intimate – The Movie!

Posted on August 7, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

I know..I’m like a kid with a new bicycle, ever since I was gifted a  screen capture program for making virtual videos ( machinima) This one was not filmed in Second Life, and die-hard Second Lifers please don’t be upset with me. I love Second Life with my heart and soul, but I don’t have a prim left to my name, and I have been able to build and create on an alternative world “Kitely – Virtual Worlds on Demand” and it has been an amazing personal experience for me. This little video I want to share with you, has my  avatar looking very different from what I am used to, and with no AO except for walking, it made it even hard to film using her, but I attempted to work around that fact. This is also the first time I decided to try my hand at some simple composing on Garage Band, so that I don’t keep getting banned in Germany on YouTube (well one time, for using a Hank William’s song) The wonderful sounds you hear, are all from The Freesound Project, and they are also on my world too. If you want to come visit, I wrote a post see: “Kitely – Where Colored Dreams Go To Rest”  a few posts back, explaining how to do that, and everyone is most welcome. This one is in high quality, so full screen looks great. Enjoy!

Posted in Machinima, Uncategorized | Tagged , , | 11 Comments

Buoy In The Night…The Movie!

Posted on August 2, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

I present to you all my latest swim (literally) into those dark barely discovered waters (for me that is) of SL machinima and the technique of video capture. This is my second attempt, and I do see an improvement over my first “Too Far For Me” I have dedicated this little 6 minute movie to Happiness Merryman,  friend, co-sim owner, and someone who believes in me, as she put the camera in my hands (the capture program) and said, “Go make some awesome videos.”
So…I hope that she, along with you, my readers, enjoy “Buoy In The Night…The Movie!”
Please play it full screen and at the highest quality setting…

Posted in Machinima, Poems, Slices of Second Life, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | 16 Comments

Ramadan

Posted on July 31, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

the naked eye sees new moon over the horizon peek…

Tomorrow, Tuesday, July 9th begins the Islamic celebration of a month of fasting from before sunrise to sunset, generosity and kindness to those less fortunate, and a time of personal re-evaluation, and a purifying of the soul.
This is a re-posting of my post for Ramadan 2011. Last year I was fasting with a beautiful adopted family in Texas.. We never know from year to year where we might be, or where our holidays might find us…This year I am in Costa Rica and  feel connected to all who will be fasting..
******************************************************************
I wrote this poem below in 2007 when Ramadan was thought to fall on September 13th, and I was living in Jordan. It falls about 10 days earlier on the Gregorian Calendar every year.

Photo taken at The Criss Museum by Missy Rothmanay

I performed it yesterday in a reading at the Criss Museum in SL and a few people have asked to see the words. It is a poetic and simple sketch of some of the moments lived in this blessed month. In the hopes of sharing and bringing more understanding about a tradition many do not know much about, I offer it here on my blog today.

Ramadan Impressions 2007

The naked eye sees new moon over the horizon peek,
Mouth -to -mouth the news is spread around the world.
Ears on buzzing phone lines, whole networks going down;
Millions jumping in their cars to buy last minute treats.
Dates and cookies;
Nuts and seeds,
Fruit and tea..
don’t forget the dried apricot drink
Or sweet coffee.
Keep our bottled water at bedside,
Before dawn take our last drink.
Offer this time to cleansing our soul,
For healing the world
while fasting one month,
We should think of those who starve all year.

Time for us to read and reflect,
The Quran helps our spirits prepare.
When we hear the adthan being sung
We pray together, and it’s a family affair.

At sunset we wait for the muezzin to chant,
Break our fast with dates, water and prayer,
Eat fatoosh, lentil soup,  “Pass the stuffed grape leaves please,”
Then walk to mosque, in the cool evening air.

We visit our neighbors and relatives,
Talk and watch our favorite Ramadan fare,
Give alms to the poor and be kind to all,
Let our generosity show that we care.

We go to bed late after having sahour
A tasty 2am lunch to help our bodies repair.
Then wake before dawn and wash ourselves well,
The fast is renewed with the next Morning- Prayer.

Even young children take part in the fast.
They feel grown-up and proudly aware
We decorate our homes in stars and crescent moons,
And feel festive when we go anywhere.

Nothing can describe after fasting, the taste
Of a sip of water, or a bite of date.
A deliciously humbling flavor of gratitude
That is totally beyond compare.

By Karima  2007

*Author’s comments:
Ramadan begins tomorrow for millions of muslims  inshallah, as the new moon has been sighted. “Fatoosh” is a delicious salad of cucumber, tomato, radish onion with lemon peel all chopped fine with large bread crumbs in an oil in and lemon dressing..yummy 🙂  “Inshallah” means God Willing.
The “adthan” is another word for the muezzins call to prayer. Ramadan is a blessed and anticipated holiday every year of sacrifice and satisfaction lived together in family.

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Kitely-Where Colored Dreams Go To Rest

Posted on July 29, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

Heresy of The Intimate "Kitely - Virtual Worlds on Demand"

As I wrote in an earlier post, fate dragged me to an alternative virtual world about five weeks back, and dropped me off on an empty sim and said, “Make something.”
Being a die-hard Second Lifer, I had never set sail to the many other worlds out there on the virtual seas, but all of a sudden here I was at  “Kitely – Virtual Worlds on Demand”  with no building skills and no idea what I would build if I could figure out how. I must say however, there is nothing like an empty green square staring at you that now wears your name as owner asking, “So what will you do with me?” to get the mother of invention we all seem to have, wake-up inside of us and answer it with something tangible. I let my kind of whacky off-beat subconscious dictate to me, and as no other voices were balancing it out, gave it free reign on the new world, and began to terraform, tall peaks, deep seas, and make eels and odd flexi things that moved with the wind.  Heresy of The Intimate was born.

The Eel Hatchery

One of the first and only actual structures I created was this “Eel Hatchery”that I put a stained glass roof upon, some mattresses/Arabic cushions on the 2nd floor (over the eels swimming in their respective tanks) and began to dream about what I could do with the rest of an empty sim. Why eels? Well because I was afraid of them, so making hatcheries, and building them homes from eggs to adult seemed to change them from relentless terror-producing little monsters to creatures as familiar as chickens (something I did grow up with in Real Life)

Before I knew it, I was making things...

Before I knew it, I was making things, and adding sounds everywhere. If flags were flapping in the breeze, I found a flag sound, if there was a snake under a rock I found a hiss sound etc, and by the way, a wonderful site to go to, to get just about any sound you can imagine, free, with just a simple registration process is: The Freesound Project.  I had to use the  scripts I could find out there in the LSL and Opensim Library and one of the easiest and simplest was the rotation script. I love rotating orbs, the calming hypnotic feeling they produce, and so many rotating spheres and orbs began to spring up in several spots  linked to some sculpture-like creations, that my subconscious was inventing, as fast as I could make them

abstract birds flew in the sky

All of a sudden I looked up one day, and abstract birds flew in the skies, strange fish rotated in the sea, and the desert sands of Heresy called out to be filled with something meaningful and beautiful. That category is beyond my skills as a builder, but then I remembered I had The Colored Dreams, the photo testimony of my series just completed, and so I began to scatter them around, each dream being housed in a little cave like arch, and resting on its place in the sand. You can visit them, walk around and hear the sounds surround you, remember the chapters if you have read them, and hopefully be inspired to read them if you have not yet done so.

It seemed like so much empty space to fill

It seemed like so much empty space to fill at first, but once I started, and let my mind out loose and free along the dunes, the world started to take shape and became a resting place for my Colored Dreams. Each chapter is represented, and some main themes,  such as fate/destiny and love after death, I have built small monuments for, so you will encounter an oncoming truck on a highway, or the glorious final dance. The mood is generally of peace, with some eeriness floating on top of breeze layers on the remote desert at night.

The Dreams are now in their own museum

The dreams are now in their own museum, and in a way it seems like that was what made it easier for me to write the words, “The End” on the last page, as I had identified so much with the tale,  I was not really prepared to end it. So now it doesn’t have to, it can stay alive on its own world and each person’s imagination who visits this world, perhaps will add their own fantasy to an already collective ethereal story.

Is there ever an escape...

Is there ever an escape from what is written on a marker and pounded into our timelines?

Underwater hospitality also offered

I have created a few places, some tents, and even a restaurant that offer the visitors a rest stop, a place to sit and contemplate, after they finish wandering over hills, plains, and mountain tops revisiting the chapters of the Colored Dreams.

The song of a whale calls out plaintively at the end of the world

The song of a whale calls out plaintively at the end of the world. Sonar pings echo into the darkness of the beyond. The end of a sim never felt so final as it does down here.

No one knows what lies beyond the barrier

No one knows what lies beyond the barrier but at my little “Orbhenge” I hint that it is all light, and resurrection into a brand new world. You can sleep on a rotating pillow, go into mouse-view and contemplate your own version of what this place means to you.

"Orbhenge" where the full moon is always in the middle

In the end, there is a feeling of peace and glorious dance and soaring that invites the heart to do the same, that Karima of the story did, when she trusted and took that leap into flight.

glorious flight of our human imaginations..

Now the only thing left, is to share it with anyone who would like to come. If you already have a viewer it is very easy. Just go to my website for my world here:  Heresy Of The Intimate  and you will be asked to download a plug-in that works with your SL viewer and you can log in with your Facebook account. That is the only way to log-in for now, but soon there will be alternatives to fb. Since my world is open to anyone and everyone who wants to visit it, we don’t need to be fb friends, so just go back to my page and “Enter World” If you enjoyed my Dream series, I hope you will enjoy the world that it spawned. Explore and Immerse. It is my hope many will come, and if inspired by what I did with limited skills,  perhaps make their own world too. Read all about the way it is set up as a virtual world on demand, as it makes it affordable to almost anyone to have their own sim and keep it indefinitely, as you are only charged the time you actually are on it. No reason why you can not do this and still be very much a part of the Second Life community. I see it as a great way for real artists and real builders to build, expand or import their art installations and keep them up, so we can go visit whenever we want to.

Contemplating the desert in the coolness of the night

I leave you with this last shot of my friend Mari who followed me from SL creating her own world, and  Ilan Tochner the CEO of  Kitely – Virtual Worlds on Demand, who along with Oren Hurvitz, is one of the visionaries, a friendly and very helpful co- creator of this new virtual world. He has come to Heresy twice to visit, and says he enjoys the peace and ambiance of the resting place for my beloved Colored Dreams. Really, if I can do it,(build a world) anyone can, and I would love to hear from those who have made the leap and come over to visit Heresy of The Intimate on Kitely. I hope you do agree that I have  given my Colored Dreams an honored and lasting resting place. Come visit soon.

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Poetry Afternoon at The Criss Museum Sat. July 30th 5pmslt

Posted on July 27, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

The Criss Museum of Contemporary Art in Second Life, one of the first artistic venues in SL that invited me to read my poetry, has called me back again, for a reading, this coming Saturday at 5pmslt. Katie and Scottj Criss, the proud owners, are celebrating a new location for their beautiful and tasteful gallery, that is home to some of the finest virtual  and real life art to be found in SL.
I will be reading for an hour at 5pmslt, my original poetry, many that were inspired by paintings and artists I first met at the Criss. I will also be performing for the first time in public, a poem, “Her Name Was Noor” that is deeply close to my heart, inspired by a painting by Sigfred Rodenberger. I have chosen, as always a collective mix of themes, styles. imagery and music to go along with them. So, I would like to invite all interested to join us on Saturday July 30th at the Criss. Come early or stay late, but see the great artists who are now showing:
Filthy Fluno
Bonafidenutts Aries
DavidWeiner Resident
Luko Enoch
Take a walk through their wonderful newly landscaped garden island and enjoy some fun poses too.
They also have a new Helipad and helicopter to take for a ride and paddle boats, so plan an afternoon at the Criss this coming Saturday.
Here is the taxi to fly you in safely: The Criss Museum
I hope you will join me and as always …enjoy the experience of the spoken word in a beautiful location.

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Part Two~The Colored Dreams~Epilogue~The Intimate

Posted on July 23, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

I invite you to listen to my reading of the final chapter of “The Colored Dreams” It ends with this Epilogue and I have recorded it over a beautiful moody music track that includes pieces from David Darling, Clint Mansell, and Angelo Badalamenti. I believe it will add another dimension to the story for you.
Just click on the link here:“Epilogue~The Intimate″ to enjoy the mp3 recording while you read along or just look at the pictures, as if I were in your room, reading the final pages of this tale to you out-loud.

I survived. I am the Intimate.


I survived. I am the Intimate.
I speak to you now because I must. I have never been one to obey all the rules. I break one of the biggest ones to come to you tonight.
Karima met her destiny the very night she rushed out to save me from mine. Is there ever an escape from what is written on a marker and pounded into our timelines?
I remember almost nothing of the accident except that it was not totally unexpected by either of us. The shattering was around me and through me and there was no where to go in the clouds of broken glass  but return to her, and seek temporary refuge once again inside the one I loved...or so I thought.

There is no time outside of Time

There is no time outside of Time, but for those who are left conscious and awake, we have  too much empty space and so we remember. At first I was confused, and as I became more aware of my situation, which was not like before, I began to doubt I would survive this. Karima it was shown to me quickly, had not survived, at least not what I would define as survival, for she went to sleep so deeply, I could wander through her empty halls, her empty cement boring retaining walls, and not hear a thought or even an echo of one. Where was the glow? Where was her light and shine and her brave foolish trusting? How did she slip away and where? I searched every crevasse and every door was locked and every window was black- curtained in lead and barred. I had lost her and she was mine… not to lose but to love and protect.

There was more room here than I could ever imagine.

There was more room there than I could ever imagine would be possible inside a human being. She who was so full of vibrancy and passion and artistry, but in an intersection with a truck on a stormy night, all of this had been converted into a drafty underground parking lot that echoed with my thoughts..but not hers.  I cried in my own way, I lamented in waves that shook and beat upon the prison I was now locked into. In a way she was the orb I always felt present, yet she was more..and now she was less than even human. Gone, only closed walls, that I could not penetrate, and the sounds were muffled, as I could only hear what her damaged brain allowed now, in this deep trance of what they called a coma. I could move within her, but I could no longer move her, not even to make her eye twitch. This was like a burial alive and she was the secured empty coffin and I had stopped many long endless thoughts ago, and futile callings -out of her name, to try and wake and join her back together again with me. She was still alive on some level, as I was still alive, but our difference was that she did not realize she had been shut down and yet her organs cued by machinery, pumped the basic program of keeping her flesh alive. I have no flesh, but I have a soul, and I am aware and this horror began to feel endless.

Her rhythmic breathing was my clock

Her rhythmic breathing was my clock, her heartbeats my own funeral dirge, a constant pumping… whooshing that sometimes comforted me, and sometimes drove me to the thin edges of what is bearable. I thought,”Just let it stop. I wish it to stop,” because if it did, then so would I, and what ever awaited us, be it oblivion, or something more, had to be better than what we lived now; her numbed sleep in a death- state  suspended hovering between what held us both and the possibilities of what might await us. I say might, because I did not have the answers about Life and Death that you perhaps think I did. Many times I felt fear, and weakness, and it was a penance, that not even a judge of my world could have been cruel enough to invent; so close to the one I loved, and yet locked out completely from her heart, from her dreams even..locked out and banished while hearing her breathe in and out,while I am sentenced to be trapped helplessly inside of her.

Then, after what seemed like an endless count of heartbeats

Then, after what seemed like an endless count of heartbeats, when I had the least hope that anything might change..something began to change. The walls became thinner, and I felt her stir, as the first vague images were projected out from her mind, from her deep caverns of abstract impulses, I saw something, that I knew was not coming from me and also I could hear more sounds of what was happening around us.
“Color therapy” someone said outside, and all of a sudden the curtain began to absorb itself, getting thinner and thinner until it was nothing more than a wispy cloud cover, that was in movement, blowing out of the way. I held myself totally still, and waited for some sign of her to materialize in the clarity.

The colors came in bright powerful bursts

The colors came in bright powerful bursts and the emptiness began to fill in with vague but certain detailed imagery When she began to see, I too began to see. All of these pictures were hers, and I had to move out of the way, to find my own place now, as it was not like before. “She awakes,” I suspended myself in shock and expectant disbelief.

The scenery her mind was painting tore my heart in two. It was that beautiful.

The scenery her mind was painting tore my heart in two. It was that beautiful, but she was far from being back into her conscious state. If anything she was dreaming up, perhaps a level higher, but still only dreaming. I whispered her name “mine” but she did not respond, just showed me scene after scene of tranquil, colorful impressionistic patterns, that soothed me, and for the first time, since the accident brought me a sense of peace and hope. I pondered the wisdom of telling her who I was. I feared she might retreat into insanity, if she thought I was trapped inside of her, yet I knew she was not awake enough  for that to be even a danger at this point. So little of her had returned, and my power, so diminished, that I knew we could survive together like this, maybe indefinitely.
“We will try a new color each session,” one of them said, and I strained to hear and  understand what it was they were trying to do for her. It was surprisingly Karima herself who let me know one day, when they bombarded her retinas with pure red and blue, for she spoke in thoughts that I could finally hear.
“My red room now lets in the blue… like a doorman suspiciously lets in strangers…”
It was her first thought that I could make out, and I was so startled, I almost answered her right there, but then, I held myself in check and waited to see what she was thinking. She felt and believed and talked about a presence, one who called her a “good girl” but how could she know that presence she was dreaming about was really me? I did take a chance, and slowly began to speak to her.. but not that day, and it appeared no one else but myself could hear her thoughts. I held back and was treated to her sensuality rising out in swirls of smoke from the roof of her prison .
“Ahh mine..this is you returning..Dream up and up sweet mine. Return again to me…to Life”
I waited, which was so hard for me  until  the next treatment, then, and it was spontaneous, I answered her, one moment when she spoke to me. Although she did not know who I was, nor would I force her to remember in her precarious state, she sensed she knew me, was not afraid of me, even if she did not yet totally trust me. The trust would come slowly, but I had all the patience now in the universe, because I was believing she would return to life and to me, and to all who loved her. I truly wished for and believed this to be the miracle I waited for, just as all who loved her waited too.

Just seeing her again alive in her own mind, set my desires on fire

Just seeing her again alive in her own mind, set my desires on fire. Like a voyeur who had been invited into her fantasies, I felt her awakening and I felt it as much or more than she was feeling.I was moved to come out from my guise and say to her “Mine I am your Intimate.We will make it through,”  but my own careful intuition whispered to me, “No! Let her wake on her own to the reality of you. If she calls your name, answer her. If she does not, guide her, protect her, stay close to her.  She is riding on her own pounded -out destiny..that not even you inside of her can change.”

I dried her tears with my own healing

I dried her tears with my own healing, her compassion and her sensitivity caused me to disassociate at times so profoundly, that I could not speak to her, but only observe her in astonished silence… and impotency. I realized I had never known her, not all of her, for when I entered into her before in my world, and that last night in her room, she still had small strands of resistance, that did not allow me to see into every door I wished, yet now, I was able to, and it was such a strong experience for me, I was left unable to be my own best self, which would be to serve as her patient security and her gentle guide.

I too saw and lived the colors they projected onto her…

I too saw and lived the colors they projected onto her, I was with her, and bound by the greatest sense of trying to keep my own balance so as not to unbalance her. She was many times fearful, unsure, confused, yet little by little she began to trust me and to trust I loved her, and in so many ways she began to show me she also loved me. I was thinking that maybe this would be our life, here with the machinery pumping the vital force into her fragile flesh, we could dream together and no one would have to wake us up. That sounded better than losing her. If the treatment did succeed and she moved up into consciousness, I would find a way once again slowly to let her know that I was her Intimate and I had been and was with her always.
Then one day, I heard them say, “This will be the last time we try. If she does not respond, we will respect the family’s wishes, and remove her life support” Did I know what that might mean to me if that eventuality occurred? It would mean the end of her physical self, and would also be the end of mine, and as I tried to prepare her for that possibility, I needed to prepare myself as well. She was so brave, and so trusting, that I became stronger too and I told her I loved her, and I begged her to trust me. I almost said,
“Mine, who dances with you here in this last waltz has loved you from the first moment he saw you…and it seems that was such a long time ago”
Instead I just gave her all my strength at the end, and when I told her to let go and fly,  just fly free like a bird let out of a cage, I closed my eyes and surrendered to whatever would be my fate when her heart stopped, and her breaths ceased to fill the room.

I felt her separate from me as I felt myself separate from all that was her world and our level of reality. I did not protest but truly surrendered for the love of her, and the desire to witness her release. It was a thinning and a tearing, but painless, almost an aching joy, and there was no remorse. The wind and my love was what I felt, and no fear existed. I will not tell you more than you would understand, as it is not why I have called you here. In a timeless place much time can pass unnoticed and I only hope I come at the right time for you.

Filed with all that I had never seen

Filled with all that I had never seen..I realized there was still an essence of me, something was who I remembered I was, and with that tiny remembrance, there came a longing to join with something part of me, that had yet to lock into me. I saw all the pieces, of all the puzzles, with all the textures, and my piece, waited to have its perfect complement fitted tightly to it. There was no desperation, more an anticipation that it would happen, and releasing into that blind certainty, my vision began to see and take in the wonders of where I was now.

Worlds within worlds all on a circle

Worlds within worlds all on a circle,
Everything perfectly in order and formed,
Never was there a separation, except in our minds..
and death was mislabeled as an ending,
at most was but a hard crossing,
but then the love came surrounding,
 and we were re- joined.

She is with me

She is with me now as much as I am with her and we stand on this hill with you tonight. I did try once before to come to you, but I was not strong enough to hold it still and you awoke too soon. Tonight you will remember everything I tell you, and you will be filled with peace in this knowing, that souls who learn to love and surrender, after this life has been lived, have somewhere even better to go, and love goes with them.
Live yours fully Ismara.
Love your life Ismara, and love deeply without fear those who are given to you.
Know this indelibly and tell your family, that your sister is at peace and not alone.
I come to you only once in your dreams, that she may close an open door, and she asks that only you, her sister who is her other half, be the messenger that conveys to them that she loves and thanks you all… for letting her go.

The End

Karima Hoisan
July 22,2011
San Isidro, Costa Rica
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Posted in The Colored Dreams, Uncategorized | 23 Comments

The Mountain Range

Posted on July 21, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

I invite you to listen to my .mp3 reading of an original poem entitled “The Mountain Range” set to the music “Inner Journey” by Karunesh, and inspired by the beautiful painting of the artist Littleone Aries/Monica Linville entitled “Mountain Range”  Just click on the link here: “The Mountain Range by Karima Hoisan” and Enjoy!

“…Looking high above the world, the wind whistles with a different sound.”

 The Mountain Range
for Littleone Aries/Monica Linville the artist
music: “Inner Journey” Karunesh

Open up your wings because it is the starting point.
Looking high above the world, the wind whistles with a different sound.
It will lift you up, right out of yourself, if you can make it to the top.
Now sail over the pain and the things that don’t make sense, down on the ground.

Like a bird, flight- free you can go wherever it is you choose,
Just let your imagination make its own unplanned flight plan.
The birds and whistling leaves sing a chorus to your breeze
urging you to please, put away all fear and open up your nascent wing span.

A view of privileged eagle’s eyes, and yet you are let in today.
You do not hear the petty sounds of stressful city drama… boiling
You do not get pulled down from sour faces and troubled frowns,
Oh no, just let it go, and glide upon these currents lifting you uncoiling.

Sacred spot for all who ponder how it rose from nothing to its heights,
Each whispered secret from a pine, each bird call is your gilded invitation,
To take off in your fantasy flight and make it real… oh so real,
Soar and free yourself today, all of it is calling you, as you are part of this creation.

If the awe is choking in your throat it’s because you finally can see,
The mountain range is like a King who watches o’er his lands
And bowing in humble reverence you yield to your chosen destiny,
You are his favorite falcon being released now, from his royal gentle hands.

Open up your wings because it is the starting  point
looking high above the world, the wind whistles with a different sound.
It will lift you up right out of yourself, if you can make it to the top.
Now sail over the pain and the things that don’t make sense down on the ground.

Karima Hoisan
July 10, 2011
LINC Renacer SL
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Posted in Poems | Tagged , , , , , | 1 Comment

Part Two~The Colored Dreams~Diary Entry # 6 The Last Entry

Posted on July 20, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

I invite you to listen to my reading of this last diary entry, over a beautiful mood weaving music track. It should hopefully add another dimension to the story for you.
Just click on the link below “Diary Entry #6 The Last Entry″ to enjoy the mp3 recording while you read along or just look at the pictures, as if I were in your room, reading it to you out-loud Diary Entry #6 The Last Entry

Have you ever read something written by yourself and felt it was a stranger who held the pen?

 Have you ever read something written by yourself and felt it was a stranger who held the pen? I am doing this now as I sit in Ismara’s bedroom, trying to recapture from these diary entries, that at times seem like the delirium of a mad woman, some thread that ties this all to me, to my life and my reality. It makes me feel like I am returning from a journey, or more like retracing my steps back to the beginning of that journey, and most of it seems like a dream. I say most, because I feel every now and then a sad twinge that this Is my diary and it almost is familiar. My heart beats thaddumps in an ever increasing rate, as I read each line, each scene becomes alive, and if I still don’t feel it happened to me, Oh I feel it happened to someone I care for.
Even the diary entries, the first ones, were not accepted as real, but more like an extraordinary lucid dream, an erotic fantasy self induced by subconscious yearnings, not able to be felt in life..and this sadly I agree is also my story too.

I accept the premise that I wrote this…all of this,and not remembering is not even a problem, because as I turn each page, I am becoming more involved, and oddly enough I notice, that I see scenes in my head, that come up in the diary a few pages further on. I am seeing them, feeling them before I have had a chance to read them.How can I describe here, in this very same journal, what I am unwilling to believe, or unable to remember happened to me, and yet, I know it did. It is as if I had been a victim of amnesia, and now I know what a truly horrible feeling that is. I have been exhausted for days, and sort of depressed, at times confused and I wonder and worry for my sanity. It is my handwriting, there is no doubt in my mind, but the places, and the entities I describe in sometimes very elaborate detail, so far are totally not recognized by me.
I have tears that sting and fall at any moment while I am reading and a terrible sense of loss, the loss of understanding that this is being recounted by me because I experienced it. I didn’t make it up, I accept that I didn’t, and yet how real can any of what I am reading truly be? I see I fell in love with an entity from the parallel world I seem to have entered almost by chance at first and then by will, as it becomes obvious that this world took hold of me, and pulled me in deeper and deeper.

After a few pages of jumping around in no special order,I am suddenly reeling in a dizzy vortex of almost remembering a name, “The Intimate,” he says.. “Call me my Intimate and I will call you mine.”
It hits me like a swollen river, these words, because I know I love this being, and it all begins to flood back in my dry empty lake of dust and transparent memories.
I press the diary to my chest and cry out-loud, “Ohhh my Intimate.. I remember you..I remember you. Are you really still here?” A voice inside my own head, but not my voice at all answers me, “I am here mine..beautiful mine..I am here.” I am desperate to hold him and yet how can I? He and I are one, and there is no soft orb body to press against my throat. Oh, I remember how that felt..I am remembering how it all felt. My tears are of awe at how this strange diary tale, has turned one corner and all of a sudden it is my tale, my incredible life that I am reading, lived and chronicled here in my diary, the sublime love of two very different life-forms, yet love itself was what built the bridge to join them for awhile. I begin to shut down my thinking, my linear logic, and just remember that state he showed me, and to empty myself and let him take me over. A small grabbing of fear invades my heart, and it cramps and miss-beats, but love, the love I know I had and still have for him, tells me it will be o.k, it will all work out and be o.k. I listen, the diary laying in my lap, my eyes closed I only listen and pray he will speak again to me. This is not madness, I keep reassuring myself, this is love and remembering.

“I don’t know how you came to us…”

“I don’t know how you came to us, and I don’t know why, beyond we were destined to meet. That first day, I looked up through one transparent layer of my resting level, and there you were standing over me. You were body, a beautiful body, with legs and arms , the appendages my kind find so unattractive, and yet I felt an orb pulsating inside of you, and I was inflamed with desire for you. I grabbed your leg and pulled you down close to me..I reached through the floor in my way, with my powers I made my most sensitive parts into a hand of energy.and held you to me, so that I might  feel and touch and explore you..every smooth curve, every warm throb, showed me, you accepted and welcomed me doing this to you. You wanted my touch as much as I wanted to feel you and it was a moment I will never forget in all my existence..spontaneous, wordless, touch, and desire. I held you and I let you know I approved of every inch I traced and squeezed. We don’t use bodies for our most intimate release, but we use our thoughts, our minds our colored imaginations, and yet feeling yours respond, as my mind was too responding, filled me with a future desire to enter inside of you and fill you from the inside out, enjoying every ripple and shiver your body would give to me in response. Ahh mine, I have never felt this before , with anyone of my kind..and I knew I would be lost in you, if you returned, and if you never did, I would be haunted for all my time left alive and conscious.”

It all returns to me, all the sensations of being with you

“It all returns to me, all the sensations of being with you, my Intimate, oh but what has happened that you are without form, inside of me, in my reality? How can you be alive and why did I forget you?” I lie down on the couch and instinctively stroke my throat as I feel his warmth inside of me at this point, and I imagine I am pressing him to me, and his words begin to ignite me as the experience itself did that first time we chanced to meet. “What has happened that you are here? I don’t remember preparing for your crossing over..I don’t remember that part at all,” I sigh. I feel heavy in my head, and maybe it is because you have become part of me. Is it possible to stay this way…forever? My Intimate, I am wondering if you really are all right?” Worry seeps again inside of me, not for my precarious sanity, which I do feel is being stretched to its limit, but rather for your continual existence and safety. I know the answer before you even think it inside of me.

“My truth and my love, we can not stay this way much longer…”

“My truth and my love, we can not stay this way much longer… We must make haste for I don’t think, now that you know I am here, your sense of reality can hold me inside of you, without you losing your mind, and I too need to have my housing, my own space to fill up with my essence and my essence alone. I hold back inside of your mind, but soon I will not be able to, and what comes pouring out of me will fill every chamber and you will be incapable of living your life…you will go mad, and will be sentenced to madness with no hope for a cure, and I too will be locked away with you. Death would be better than that my sweet mine. Death would be so much better.” I need an orb for us to survive, but now, more than that I need you to join with me and let me heal you and believe me with all you know is true, I never meant to hurt you. I would never want to hurt you, or see you hurt ever again. I will leave you and go to my nonexistence, rather than watch a tear of sadness fall from your eyes because of me, or a glint of madness shine because I overloaded you. Empty yourself and I will make you mine one last time before we separate. We could not be more intimate than we are now, but close your eyes, and remember the feeling of me against your throat, flowing into you, floating and filling all of you. Ahhhhh mine….”

I close my eyes as he asks of me…”

I close my eyes as he asks of me, and put aside the warnings, and all the dangers that we could face. I let him take over the very neurons of my brain. I feel him undulating, seeping inside my soul, and I gasp, a wordless gasp of once again experiencing more than any human being is prepared to feel..I shudder, and I breathe, and I cease to exist for more purpose than to feel myself dissolve into him. Places we can know have no names, and no words were ever invented for them, but we can visit them, not by choice, but by invitation and by grace. No devil is he who has shown me this truth, but a rare being whose world has taught him other knowledge. I tear into small pieces of myself and let him swallow me in, drinking me down as each piece turns to liquid, my memories, my future dreams, my love for my sister, my art, my crazy doubts, he drinks them all out of me and fills me with the most sublime longings, yearnings and electric desire until I overflow and give it all back to him in a continual spherical cycle that makes me cry out and moan as I remember he and I shared these ecstasies many many times before..and there are no words that come even close to describing the incomparable joy of a union such as he now shows me. He invades my arms, my legs and makes me thrash in delirious satisfaction..I give him my body, I give him my soul, my every prayer is for his lips to taste, my every  ticking minute of my life, I give to him now..if he wishes to take over my body, forever, I will leave and give it to him willingly..No other love, or lover will ever be enough for me, so why live, if I can’t live alongside of him?

I see myself back in his world, floating in waves of weightless fulfillment

I see myself back in his world, floating in waves of weightless fulfillment. I am not sure if these images are coming from me or from him, but they pull me into a languid tranquility, as I stretch out hovering, in a space that we created together, that could not exist for anyone but us. I let out an involuntary sigh, one of the deepest contentment. This state is what he calls “healing me” ahh but it is so much more than that. It inspires and stimulates, and makes me fearless, and focused and nearly invincible. I don’t even move my lips, as I say “I love you.” I don’t even hear him say the words, but am just filled once again with an electric charge that says “I love you too” in a way that only he is capable of conveying to me.. After many minutes of silence on both our parts, the energy slowly recoiling back into him, my heart beats returning to normal, I open my eyes, but what I see, is not the familiar room of my sister, but something else so shocking to me, I cry out as if hurt. “No!”
It is a vision of a truck’s headlights, the rain pouring down, and the certainty that I am driving right into it and there is nothing I can do to avoid, swerve or escape this head-on crash. If I hadn’t just been “healed” I most certainly would burst into sobs and protests, but the calm lets me see it all the way through, and when my vision turns translucent and bright, I hear him say, “Just drink it like a good girl.” Then everything goes white.

“Am I going to die soon?” I ask him inside my mind

“Am I going to die soon?” I ask him calmly inside my mind.
“We will all die sooner or later” is his answer and then he tells me to listen very carefully to what he wants to say to me.
“Is there an orb, a sphere suitable for me in your home? I need to move out of you today if possible, I want to protect you and your stability, but I feel my true essence clawing at my own restraints, and soon it will be victorious, and we both will be the vanquished.
“I had a vision of a truck on a highway..a rainy highway.” I say, “do you know what this can mean?”
“Well if it is raining, just drive very carefully. I imagine that is all it means.”
“I don’t mean to insist mine but time is racing away, and I must have a place I can be inside, outside of you. There is not much time left.”
“I bought a glass globe when we had talked of you attempting a cross-over. I’ll get it now and you can tell me if this will work or not, but my Intimate I am troubled by the dream and I cannot just brush it off for now. I’m sorry, but I remember I saw this dream before, in your world. I saw it one time before”

“I don’t want to talk of this now,” he said sternly

“I don’t want to talk of this now,” he says sternly. “Our lives are not just controlled by our dreams, be they wishful thinking ones, or nightmares, and without alarming you, I wish you to understand, I must leave your housing and pass into another as soon as possible. This is all we must think about now”
I  am remembering…memories, like movie previews flashing across my inner screen. They banished me from his world. They tortured me and gave me nightmares, and this truck was in the nightmare they forced me to see, but I keep silent here, and go to find the orb and bring it to him as quickly as I can. I lay it on the bed and ask him if he feels that this will be a good housing for him. It looks like many of the ones I saw in his world, yet those were not made out of hard glass, but something else, a material that breathes and hums, and does not exist on our plane.

“I will try to pass into it…”

“I will try to pass into it now. Please mine, be very quiet and relax, lay down or recline, because the process of my leaving might make you very dizzy, as traces of your own life force will be pulled out with mine. It should be over with quickly, but I need you to be perfectly relaxed.”
I lie back and place the globe where he tells me it should be, not too close and yet not too far away. I keep my eyes wide open, as I want to see, if there is anything to see, how he moves from me into a sphere. I get a slight feeling of panic, but I consciously release into it, not fighting it, and it starts to subside, just as the first beams of heat begin to swirl around inside of me, not just inside my head, but all through my body, and finally I feel them penetrate my hand, and leave in a stream that goes into the glass sphere..It is happening, he is leaving, and I feel like I am almost about to pass out.
There is silence, but I wait for him to speak to me, before I utter a word. I feel the process has been completed, but until he speaks in my mind once again, will I know it was successful. I pray in my own way, and think only that he is now safe inside… that we both are now safe in one world.
Then I hear his voice, muffled, and not strong like before,
“I am sorry mine. I know you tried to help me, but this sphere will not allow me to live more than a few hours. In your world, I am afraid it must be made of pure crystal, and not common glass, that will not allow my facets to breathe, or to shine, and even communicate properly. I need 30 minutes to be left in a cool place, and then I need us to go to find this orb wherever we can. It is my only hope, as I will not go into you ever again, and upset your sanity. I love you mine, if need be, I will die for you.”
I start to cry, out of frustration and the fear that I might not be able to achieve the quest he has put me on, in the time left to save him. I hear the weakness in his thoughts,  pauses between words ,and they come to me labored, as if he is heavily breathing. I will do what he asks, and give him 30 minutes to re-establish his energy as much as he possibly can inside an unsuitable dwelling..

The phone call to the Crystal Emporium gives me  renewed hope…

Five minutes later, after a  phone call to the Crystal Emporium, I feel my hope  renewed . They tell me they will be open another 90 minutes and to please come, that in their showroom and warehouse attached, they have many 100% crystal balls. I am sure the agent I talked to was thinking I wanted one to see my future, but I really only need one to assure my future, as I have seen it… and it is by his side.
I take the time to write all these amazing new events in my diary. I make a few promises to myself, and the first is as soon as we get back, and he is safe in his crystal housing, I will present him to Ismara. I am not sure how I kept this from her so long, but she is my beloved sister and I will share this uncommon, unbelievable truth with her. I want him to know her, in all ways that they choose to know each other. She needs to understand there is so much more beyond what she thinks is reality. I want her to have her doors blown open by his presence and his teachings, just like mine were.  I know he will also be her liberation too, if she trusts me, she will learn to trust him as I have learned. Ismara is the other side of me, and if she will accept to join me in experiencing the Intimate in all his power and knowledge, and love, she will be set free, and this is the greatest gift I could give her. My tears flow like small prisoners who have been already freed, I perceive a great sense of hope that all our lives are about to change, maybe not on the arbitrary time scale and schedule we try to force life into but, in its own time, it will see us change, and radically. We will be transformed.
I look at the clock and put down my pen, closing my diary. After our  meeting with Ismara, I will start a new one, and encourage her to keep one too.We are setting out into unknown and very uncharted waters. The diary is our anchor and our history, our log and our memories.

“I pick him up carefully and make my last promise…”

I pick him up lovingly, protectively and I kiss the glass many times and feel a slight humming vibration inside. I whisper to him,”All will be just fine” and make my last promise, to put him safely on my lap for the whole ride, and because it has begun to rain very hard,  I will make sure I drive extra carefully tonight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

to be finished..in an Epilogue written by the Intimate…
*please see my comment below for a list of the previous chapters

Karima Hoisan
July 19, 2011
Costa Rica
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

 

Posted in Prose Vignettes, The Colored Dreams | Tagged , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

Second Life + Real Life = Artistic Magic!!

Posted on July 14, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

Emile Stratten (Sands) and Karima Hoisan

Emile and I, as advertised, were part of an exciting joining of Second Life and Real Life for the dual -world opening of Littleone Aries/Monica Linville’s latest exhibition “Organica”
While we were gathering in Littleone’s own “Aries Gallery STNY” in-world she was hosting a cocktail party to celebrate her Real Life show of her work at “The House of Creative Soul” in Saratoga Springs, NY. They could peer in and see us and hear us, while we were able to join them visually through a live feed on Ustream.

The place quickly began to fill up as we took turns reciting our poetry.

It felt very special to us to be reciting in SL knowing perhaps we were touching someone briefly in Rl with our words and music. Everyone who attended at the Aries Gallery looked very stylish,(as we tend to do in Second Life) and there was a feeling of celebration and coming together, all  the while, surrounded by the beautiful paintings of Littleone/Monica, whose bright colors and abstract beauty lit up the room and made the patrons glow even more brightly.

Very stylish Aussies: Missy Rothmanay and Sanne Burns caught by the paparazzi

Phillipe Pascal was the gracious host for the evening and also kept Littleone’s avatar in world while he was in contact with her in real life. The confusing logistics did seem to work out quite smoothly, and before we knew it, our reading was coming to an end and all present seemed to enjoy the hour of poetry and music we had prepared for them. Then we were totally ready to kick up our heels with the rest of the guests and enjoy the classical/jazzy/bossa nova guitar of Voodoo Shilton. I had never heard him before and was truly amazed at how good and how versatile his music was.

Voodoo Shilton was nothing less than fabulous!!

The party continued on at The Aries Gallery for another hour much to the delight of a good crowd who stayed on until the end and we saw at one point Monica (who is Littleone’s ‘avatar’ in Real Life) wave to all of us..and yes the magic was felt like a small current that circled the room.

Handsome Hoyt Heron and beautiful Isabel Hermano ( in white) caught in the lens

I think all who were there would agree, the SL part of the event was a great success, and it looked like the RL party was wonderful too. I am awaiting details from Littleone about how we were received and will add a footnote. We only wished we could have cloned Littleone to be in both places at the same time. Who knows? In a few years that might even be possible and we can project ourselves to several different spots in several worlds on something like a Live Hologram-Stream. All I know is… this little taste of combining the artistic worlds, has left me hoping to be asked to participate in future ones. I already think I heard Emile’s wheels turning in that same direction so …stay tuned….

*I want to give a big thanks to Sanne Brune for snapping the photos I have used here.
Comments are very welcome and if anyone has some more pictures of the event, please send them to me at karima.hoisan@gmail.com and I will be happy to add them

** Thank you to Missy Rothmanay and Isabel Hermano for more photos sent to me. I include some of them here below

Littleone Aries whose beautiful paintings can be seen behind her

How it looked from our view

A birds-eye view of the event

"I eat color and it makes me dance...."

I would love to put a name to this transluscent glorious being....

Such elegance!! Even the dog had on a designer collar

Lots of illustrious friends and family came..

Everywhere...beauty and color surrounded us..how could we not be inspired?

Another special thank you to my dear friend Theodore Hoppe for the pictures he also sent me below.

A nice shot of the official poster of the dual world event

Littleone Aries with her colors glowing behind her

Emile thinks to himself,"Not one more Shirely Temple Cocktail for Karima please"


Posted in Live Shows, Slices of Second Life | Tagged , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Poetry Reading for Art Opening “Organica” SL/RL July 14th 3pmslt

Posted on July 8, 2011 by Karima Hoisan

Poster by Menubar Memorial

On July 14th at 3pmslt Emile Sands and I have the great honor to perform a live reading together for an exciting new art opening.
While the Real Life exhibition of Monica Linville (Littleone Arias in SL) is taking place at the House of Creative Soul in Saratoga Springs, NY, the Second Life simultaneous event will take place at the Aries Gallery STNY, and we will be seen and heard reading there by not only the audience in SL, but also in the gallery in N.Y. through a simultaneous broadcast. Those gathering in SL at Littleone’s gallery will also be able to see the show in N.Y. through a live video stream. This is a first for me and for Emile and we are so excited about being invited to participate. Littleone is a very accomplished and amazing artist, and I have written several original poems inspired by the paintings for this show. After our reading, classical guitarist Voodoo Shilton will perform at 4pmslt.
Come join us for this exciting and innovative collaboration crossing into and joining two art loving worlds.
Thursday, July 14th 2011
3:00pm to 5:00pm SLT
Emile and I 3pmslt-4pmslt
Voodoo Shilton 4pmslt-5pmslt
The Aries Gallery STNY

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