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Ok who's next in my describe everyone as colors theme.
Humm RobinHood3000 I think:D
Robin is a spikey ball florecent green looks 3D or made of that wierd soft coushy plastic stuff. But the middle of the ball is like a marble with swirly constantly changing swirl of colours.
:D
gorgeous Night. And I agree with you about Riesa Virgil.
Logos is an archeologist----of words. She keeps all her tools immaculate and carefully assembled in her brain and hands and unearths in minutes what others take years to find. She sits in a tower that overlooks the city and drinks in the atmosphere, has a cup of steaming coffee and her favorite dessert by moonlight in the absolute quiet and then with a contented sigh goes back to her dig. Joy is hers and fulfillment.
Stanislav is a teddy bear made of mohair in dark grey with smoky blue eyes. He wears a pirate's earring in his left ear and a felt pirate's hat rakishly over one of his beautiful eyes.
He wears a little belt with a nifty foil sword and when his owner puts him back on the shelf at night after a hard day's playing in the nursery 'Surly Stan' as the other dolls and stuffed toys call him waits until he hears everyone in the house call goodnight to one another and then all falls silent. When he is sure all are asleep he takes out his little sword and starts harrassing and poking all the Barbie dolls and pink teddy's. They scold him and say they will make sure he gets into trouble. 'Oh yah who are ye gonna tell with yer plastic and felt mouths that humans can't understand eh?" he says with a wink and carries on all night freaking out the toys in the nursery.
In the light of day the children come back in and always wonder how on earth the toys have fallen all over and why the Barbie dolls' hair is tangled and messed up .
they can't tell them and Surly Stan laughs inside his mohair self and counts the minutes until it is bedtime again.
Riesa, She is caring, loving and welcoming. Whenever I read about Razia Sultana from my history book, Riesa comes into my mind. In Urdu "Riesa" means a rich woman. Razia Sultana was strong, powerful and rich. (rich also means rich in manners, ethics and education)
mono
Lately, when brosing this forum, I came across a post posted by mono. Then the image that I usually have in mind about this dear fellow came to my mind. He is like an actor performing in a play. The background is but a tree on which mono sits. We are the spectators. In fact, hi is the one watching us from his place, always with us but usually unseen.
Pensive:
At first, I thought her name was Pensieve from Harry Potter, and somehow it's crafted my image of her from the beginning.
Lithe of body, a young girl clothed in silks sits crossed legged on a tufted pillow. Graceful bare feet are adorned with tinkling bells. Her laugh lilts as she summons her bird to her slender finger. The room she sits in alone, has alabaster walls 20 feet high. It's a round room with windows on all sides, draped in sheer hyacinth blue silk curtains. There is no glass in these windows, they are open to the elements. The curving windows behind her are full of stars, and the ones in front of her let in a jasmine breeze and sunlight. The room is full of dappled light, her hair is raven black, ornately arranged, twisted with gold, silver and rubies. Her youth distracts until you look into her beautiful ancient eyes and see the gentleness and wisdom there. She is like a Child Buddha, privy to nature's secrets, communing with the wind, sea and stars. She has an intellect and capacity for wonder that surpasses all who approach her for guidance.
Virgil
Perhaps the dearest person to me on this forum, my world has been enriched since the first post of his I read. Smart, driven, a lover of the finest life has to offer: Scotch, leather chairs, art, animals, music and poetry. :D My image of him is this: distinguished gentleman, yet always ready with hugs and a smile for his dear wife, as she provides him with sustenance. I see him dressed in tweeds, a spring in his step as he again goes off to work; where he is at once removed from and an integral part of his occupation. I see him doodling on scratch paper poems and drawings; cracking jokes when everyone else is stressed from deadlines. On the subway, he reads while young girls attempt to catch his eye; he notices, feels gratified, but ignores them completely. ;) At the corner market, the workers there all know his name, the old women can count on him to open doors or carry packages for them up a seven floor walk-up. Arrogant? Perhaps at times but he is a natural teacher, his arrogant mission is to bring deeper enjoyment to those who might have trouble seeing it for themselves, since he has already pondered many things that some of us have yet to even dream of.
Rachel
My favorite writer on the forum, her words drench my heart with poetry and beauty. She has compassion that is truly saintlike; beauty of form and action. All of her emotions are as they should be, humor that always brings laughter, never wounds. Romance, seeing the gorgeousness in love, mysticism in admiration, and has a word for it; a way of putting it that seals many a romantics doom. My image of her is up on a pedestal, a living statue of light and goodness, with many hearts admiring and reaching for her charity.
Giving to the extreme, but complete and whole in herself, so that the giving doesn't drain her. Her magical, admirable way of always creating more love in this world; unearthly in it's ability to reach us all. Washing away our vulnerabilities in peace and a shoulder to lean on, infusing us with healing and strength. Truly an amazing person, my heart is hers.
The Unnamable
The great green wizard in the Wizard of Oz, only this time there is no mere man behind the curtain, this wizard IS who he claims to be.
Xamonas Chegwé
My image of Xamonas is this: He looks like James Spader and is just as dangerous to women; a man girls run to and mothers abhor. Full of poetry, intelligence and ruthless when it comes to getting his way. He's a powerful person in whatever he undertakes, excels at sports, but prefers chess. He has a soft side, though, which comes out in his love for felines, he has one named 'ickle roseberry' that is his constant companion and is allowed to drink out of his tea cup. ;) His cleverness knows no bounds, and he delights in shocking the most prudish of us. A true asset to this forum, and one that will be sorely missed when he gets wind of something more fascinating that will claim his attentions. :cool:
Not to mention humility ;).
mother Theresa of Calcutta is a real heroine to me, a person who gave everything and asked nothing of life except that others would give to those in despair along side her.
BASIL'
Basil is a chameleon that lives inside an enchanted garden.No one is welcome into that garden besides him for he is the champion, the healer, the one and only mortal dear to the hearts of the trees and flowers, butterflies, dragonflies and bubbling fountains and brooks.
He has such wit that by day he tells jokes, clean as crystal water, imaginative as a rainbow sunset.
He is so funny the grass waves back and forth in sheer joy of his words, the roses laugh until tears of liquid sunlight fall down their petal soft cheeks. The trees have to hold their sides with laughter and even the weeping willows shriek with mirth and drop soft clouds of happy mist.
Everything is greener and more beautiful because Basil is there, breathing in and out and smiling with eyes of love at his very own enchanted garden.
By night when all is quiet and asleep Basil sits upon a bench, pen and paper in hand and thinks out more jokes to bring joy and healing to his beloved garden.
The moon comes out and sends beams of silver straight down into his garden so the m an in the moon can read the jokes. Basil doesn't mind sharing, after all stars need to smile and be glad too. The man in the moon chuckles as he reads and th en howls out loud.
Basil smiles at that and the night goes on as his pen flies over the paper.
Riesa- I don't know who that is that you wrote about under my name but I shall treasure those words and try hard with God's help to be just like that. And if anyone should ask why I am trying so hard I shall answer" A beautiful amazon that rides a midnight colored steed from heaven blessed me and I shall never be the same again.
Samercury:
An enchanted tapestry of woven silk and unicorn wool, always shifting and changing so you can't quite grasp it's glorious picture, and if you could you would blinded by the truth and beauty there; much like looking upon the contents of the infamous Ark of the Covenant. I imagine her as a beautiful young girl, dressed in yellow, green, blacks and browns; hiding behind glasses the most perfect eyes, luminous with wisdom and sparkling with humor. When she sings, the flowers grow stronger, the sun comes out and the mists clear from inside everyone who is lucky enough to hear her. When she plays the violin, her soul is expelled through her music. A soft voice, guiding her family on the path of honour. Strength and clarity of purpose unusual in one so young; a person who will change the world as we know it, creating peace and finding a way to bring harmony to distraught masses. :nod:
Rachel: I believe it's all true.
Riesa
Riesa has double-jointed elbows and races mushrooms. She loves the colour transparent and drinks exclusively from a chalice made of teeth. All of her 7 heads are unbearably beautiful to behold and glow with inner fire. When backed into a corner, Riesa fits perfectly, having a right-angled behind.
Her hobbies include perspicacity and building models of the soul in lego.
Not many people know, but Riesa has one of the world's largest collections of elms.
(If you think this is a little inaccurate, you should see what she wrote about me a few posts back - :lol: :lol: :lol: )
Unnamable
My arch nemisis. ;) Why do I like the fellow so? Is it because opposites attract? Is it because he argues with me like my brother? Is it because I understand the curmudgeon heart? And he is a curmudgeon, a strict disciplinarian as teacher (ready to rave at mediocrity) until a student shows a certain vulnerabilty, and then his curmudgeon heart just melts and helps the student out. He reminds me a little of T.S Eliot; dresses very respectfully; a little uptight; a sharp wit. He knows it all, knows all aspects of literature, philosophy, sociology, and has come to conclusions. Conclusions, I tell you, are what he's confident about. He has such a high level of idealism, and he sees every fault that the world displays, and so becomes discontent. And the discontent is real. The world, society, human nature, just don't reach his ideal. It tinges his personality with melancholy. That's when I want to wrap my arm around his shoulders and say, "Come on old buddy, it's not that bad. Really. It's not that bad." And so we take out some cheese and pineapple and wine (at least for me) and we'll sit down and argue about this or that.
Riesa,
you are a wonderful artist with words. Publish publish, you are definitely my favorite word painter here.
The Unnameable'
When I close my eyes and think of him I think of two things:
The first is heart-torn and bleeding from caring so deeply and continually being hit in the chest by adversaries who have never really heard a word that comes from that heart. They are too absorbed by his words and angered by them.
The second thing I think of is a rollercoaster- much larger and scarier than the world's biggest now boasts itself to be. It is made of material not known to this earth and shines a most unearthly black shot thru with electric bursts of gold and dark brooding midnight blue.
People are compelled to leave the other rides for a little and inching slowly they come to the base of this monster big rollercoaster. They pause and then slowly their heads lift up and up and up and they cannot see the top for it rests above the clouds.
"What a stupid idea" someone says and the others murmurr in angry agreement.
Ridiculous, way over the top, not worth even spending a penny on" says another and again the heads bob up and down collectively.
"Well I suppose we should at least go on it so that we can speak with authority when we warn others to stay away" says a wise looking man and there are whispers and then hands move to their pockets to bring out the money. Tickets are purchased and solemnly with heads shaking in disapproval they get into position on the monster ride.
It starts slowly and in just a breath or a prayer's time begins to climb and undulate and growl with such speed that many of the riders are quite positive they have suffered heart attacks and are now in rollercoaster hell for their sins.
Shrieks of terror, moans of repentance rise to heaven and others on the tamer rides look upward and are afraid.
Finally after what seems forever the ride has ended. All is silent and then the sound of still alive bodies can be heard flopping over the side and feet trudge dizzily over to the fence.
"Just as we thought, a nightmare, worthless, hateful" they all cry.
But half an hour later under the cover of inky darkness they sneak back again. They can't help themselves and a guilty smile of pleasure creeps across their still ashen faces as they seat themselves once more.