100 Days And Nights 1000 Years Ago

Rapidly written micro fictions accompanied by medieval motives found or created in the wayward course of researching a new novel about the dark ages—a part of the 100 Days 2011 project.

May 31st 2011

1 note |#

In her mind, Gisela composed a list of things to do every day, but she could not come up with more than three items and they all related to fowl: Using that good energy of the morning to sing with the birds. Saying hello to the snappish chicken in the yard even if they don’t talk back. Waving at the sparrow hawk over the field behind the king’s garden. – Then she wondered why. “Sing for me, little one,” her mother used to say. Her two older brothers seemed mute and deaf when they were with her: she didn’t even seem to register with them. It was only natural that she should join a convent as soon as she could hold a needle. The sparrow hawk was the most mysterious of the three. She imagined how the wind liked to ruffle his feathers. How he could go anywhere if he wanted to, how he didn’t take orders from anyone… It was odd and magical that anything flew through the air at all! How much foresight the creator had shown to give people something to look at in all directions. To provide song even for the trees and hills, to let everyone have a mood and to paint freedom on the sky with the flight of a raptor. “It’ll give you an edge in the world,” her mother said, “and it’s the same convent I went to: they’ll recognize me in you and the mother superior is a good friend.” – “But it’s all work, no play,” said Gisela. Mother said that nowhere needlework was taught as in Dargun: the place was so far from anywhere, all they had was craft and prayer. Surely they sang, Gisela thought, just different songs, not bird song but god song. A higher form of singing for sure. She peeped: “tshilp, tshilp, tshilp.” One had to peep while one could peep.


#11/100 Days 2011. Photo: Sparrowhawk. ( © Koninklijke Bibliotheek)

Posted at 9:36pm and tagged with: bird, brothers, convent, freedom, gisela, milan, mother, play, prayer, sparrowhawk,.

In her mind, Gisela composed a list of things to do every day, but she could not come up with more than three items and they all related to fowl: Using that good energy of the morning to sing with the birds. Saying hello to the snappish chicken in the yard even if they don’t talk back. Waving at the sparrow hawk over the field behind the king’s garden. – Then she wondered why. “Sing for me, little one,” her mother used to say. Her two older brothers seemed mute and deaf when they were with her: she didn’t even seem to register with them. It was only natural that she should join a convent as soon as she could hold a needle. The sparrow hawk was the most mysterious of the three. She imagined how the wind liked to ruffle his feathers. How he could go anywhere if he wanted to, how he didn’t take orders from anyone… It was odd and magical that anything flew through the air at all! How much foresight the creator had shown to give people something to look at in all directions. To provide song even for the trees and hills, to let everyone have a mood and to paint freedom on the sky with the flight of a raptor. “It’ll give you an edge in the world,” her mother said, “and it’s the same convent I went to: they’ll recognize me in you and the mother superior is a good friend.” – “But it’s all work, no play,” said Gisela. Mother said that nowhere needlework was taught as in Dargun: the place was so far from anywhere, all they had was craft and prayer. Surely they sang, Gisela thought, just different songs, not bird song but god song. A higher form of singing for sure. She peeped: “tshilp, tshilp, tshilp.” One had to peep while one could peep. #11/100 Days 2011. Photo: Sparrowhawk. ( © Koninklijke Bibliotheek)

May 23rd 2011

8 notes |#

Is it true, Gisela asked Gerbert, that at a time before our time there were no children at all. How so, said the monk. Because we were born already fully shaped and perfectly groomed, said the girl, from birth to death to Heaven. And where does this idea come from, said Gerbert – not from studying the bible, I presume. No, she said, I dreamt it. I dreamt that there was no play, only work: infinite numbers of men and women were weaving an endless tapestry without knowing why or if they could ever stop. Surely for the glory of God, said Gerbert, who’d begun to roll his rosary, and surely only until the Day of Judgement. I’m not sure, said Gisela, I’m not sure at all. She smiled and returned to her handiwork. The monk looked at her sideways, quickly running the wooden pearls through his fingers. The girl’s mind struck him as spidery and he wondered if there was a spider goddess anywhere in the Lord’s kingdom and if it might assume the shape of a young woman.

#2/100 Days 2011. Photo: detail from Pieter Breughel, Children’s Games (1560)

Posted at 6:01pm and tagged with: 100days2011, breughel, play, toys, children, kids, Gerbert, Gisela, bible, birth, death, Judgement, games, spider, goddess,.

Is it true, Gisela asked Gerbert, that at a time before our time there were no children at all. How so, said the monk. Because we were born already fully shaped and perfectly groomed, said the girl, from birth to death to Heaven. And where does this idea come from, said Gerbert – not from studying the bible, I presume. No, she said, I dreamt it. I dreamt that there was no play, only work: infinite numbers of men and women were weaving an endless tapestry without knowing why or if they could ever stop. Surely for the glory of God, said Gerbert, who’d begun to roll his rosary, and surely only until the Day of Judgement. I’m not sure, said Gisela, I’m not sure at all. She smiled and returned to her handiwork. The monk looked at her sideways, quickly running the wooden pearls through his fingers. The girl’s mind struck him as spidery and he wondered if there was a spider goddess anywhere in the Lord’s kingdom and if it might assume the shape of a young woman. #2/100 Days 2011. Photo: detail from Pieter Breughel, Children’s Games (1560)