Category — weird stuff

That’s where I’ve been for three weeks!

I was innocently wandering on the hillside and suddenly the hillside opened – I was taken inside by a tall spindly man called Fetcher.

Don’t worry, it was the Seelie faery court and though they were mischievous at times, they were also kind – they granted me wings and gave me a new name (which I cannot say because names are power as you know).

I was also treated to the finest food I have ever eaten – strange mushrooms cooked in even stranger herbs, the sweetest wines and an odd type of candy with a small faery light in the centre.

It seemed I was there only an evening or two  – time passes strangely there, but when I found myself alone, wingless and cold on the hillside – minus my shoes too!  I’d bet a bag of faery shinies that little elfling took them – I knew it had been much longer.

Three weeks the police say and everyone worried sick.

But I’m back here, at least in body. At night, I dream of that hillside and I can still hear their strange music on the wind.

I’m not sure why I drew this one – maybe I’ve been listening to too much Rimsky-Korsakov?

So there it is – a random Bee Girl for this week’s drawing.

Maybe it’s the four hours of sleep I got last night, or the obscene amount of caffeine I’ve consumed this morning or hell, maybe I’m just nuts – but I’ve had a morning that makes me a great candidate for The Sixth Sense sequel (if ever there is one).

Today, I have seen dead people.

I walked over to Granville Island for some fresh produce this morning and while I was trying to decide what kind of bagels I wanted, I saw a Frank Sinatra lookalike waiting his turn at the counter. I mean, it was undeniably Frank, the smile, those eyes…if he’d broken into song a serenaded the lineup with “My Way” I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised.

Also, Frank apparently likes blueberry bagels, with a surprising amount of cream cheese.

So, I get myself a matcha tea and sit outside by the water where I see Mr. Dressup carrying a small, screaming child who only moments before had been tormenting a small pigeon on the quay. Mr. Dressup! Owner of the bottomless Tickle Trunk and maker of cool crafts!

No sign of Casey or Finnegan though.

After finally getting all my shopping I done, I started to head over to the bus stop and as I was crossing the street I saw Rainer Maria Rilke.

My favourite poet of all time, who died 83 years ago, just walking across the street wearing a scruffy coat, beat up Converse shoes and listening to an MP3 player.

To give you a better idea, this is what Rilke looks like:

Pretty intense right? Now imagine that intensity out of the suit and in the outfit I described. It was beyond weird – and I must have given the poor guy a strange look because he gave me an equally strange look in return. So I smiled at him, and he nodded very politely in reply.

Please tell me I’m not mad – you all see dead people too, right?