A Rose Is A Rose Is A Rose – Or Is It?
Posted April 28, 2010
**lost in thought**
Junco: Lovely roses, aren’t they?
Inigo: Oh – yes, yes they are…
Junco: Come join me – I’m in the mood for a little companionship –
Junco: There’s a faraway look in your eyes, Inigo, more so than usual.
Inigo: *soft laugh* Well, I was thinking about – something that happened last fall; that qualifies as faraway, at least in human time –
Junco: Was it when Sanar last visited – and Dorilys?
Inigo: Yes… it was something… that needed to be faced, for her sake, as well as mine.
Junco: I suppose so – since you are still as firm of resolve to not return to our Alar *raises eyebrow*.
Inigo: That I am.
Junco: Sometimes I come close to understanding your reasons, when I think on the strange affairs I have discovered of late – the matter of Elfride and Hibou most notably. And, did you know our guest Imriel has made his departure just the other day?
Inigo: Did he?
Junco: Discreetly, of course. Considering his intended purpose, it was best he made no noise about it.
Inigo: That reminds me of a couple human expressions – “The walls have ears,” or, “Loose lips sink ships.”
Junco: Yes… who knows what, or who, lurks. Even I cannot see every mote that floats by, let alone beings that drift through.
Inigo: You make it sound as if any of us here could be suspect –
Junco: Best to pause, look and think, before prattling away. Ms. Beamlette runs an open household –
Inigo: *off* Haha, that she does – she let me stay, proof of that!
Junco: *off* And if I sensed anything sinister about you, dear cousin, we would NOT be having this conversation *laughs*. Seriously, though, I am concerned at what Imriel will find when he turns over the proverbial rocks and logs he will encounter –
Inigo: *off* I wonder… why would someone part two infant sisters in such a bizarre way. It was bad enough that their family was – was murdered, and for what reason? Did they offend someone?
Junco: *off* Indeed; that is what I think, and persons who behave in that manner are twisted in mind. Eventually, it shows in their physical being. I have my suspicions as to who that might be, but spotty proof, if any, of their guilt –
Inigo: I guess no thing can be concealed forever –
Junco: More often than not. It is the when, the where and the how I find interesting, as to the outing. Why do some things so skillfully concealed manage to reveal themselves in the perpetrator’s lifetime, and yet others lie buried many years after all is forgotten? What unseen hand moves the world’s game pieces, I wonder –
Inigo: Yes… what allows you and I to enjoy this peaceful paradise, unknowing of whatever dark deeds may be in progress elsewhere?
Junco: A thought best not held onto, or the dark triumphs even in the smallest way –
Inigo: I shall endeavor then, to think more of light and the world’s beauty… as I dwell too often on the negative –
Junco: It is a balancing act, I have found. Faith and fact must dance, and share the lead –
Inigo: No wonder, then, that I have always felt out of step! Will I ever move in time with the rest of the world?...
Junco: Not everyone should move with the herd, Inigo… depending on the path…
There are no easy answers in a world as thorny as a rose, is there?
I got to thinking recently, at how many mothers I have in my resin crew. When I started collecting BJDs five years ago, I thought of them as mostly young and pretty adolescents. As time passed, and their characters became more complex (and their numbers grew!), parents crept into the storyline. Which wasn’t that strange, as I’d always made families in my childhood doll play – so why not continue with my BJDs?