♫ The American Goldfinch: “Our First Meeting and Conversation with King Carduelis Tristis and his Court.”

The American Goldfinch: 

“Our First Meeting and Conversation with King Carduelis Tristis and his Court.”

©2013 Marcus James Christian, marcusunlimited.

    After being blessed by the company of You and Yours, I longed for our collaborations and various discussions on a wide array of subjects. Each of such discussions brought wonderful justifications to the feelings I had always previously held in regards to the overall way of things. The mere existence of You and Yours was to me a verification that there were many better ways to attend to many of life’s various issues.
    One day, while on a walking discussion with You and Yours, we came to a clearing in one of the forests upon our newest estate’s grounds. Simply being within the space of the clearing caused us to feel exceptionally beauteous good feelings. The clearing was hewn entirely by the unperturbed progression of nature. Yet its appearance seemed to suggest that there was some form of additional purpose to its courtyard-like design. The rich black earth seemed like a carpet which was surrounded by furniture in the form of mostly large gray stones of individually unique shapes and variances in size. Grand walls—columned with evergreen trunks—stood like pillars holding up the open skylight above the enchanted clearing.
    As the sunlight reached down through the skylight, it made the illumination of the mobile diamond fortress, which in my possession you traveled safely within, its first priority. Through such an endeavor the light of the sun was multiplied and transformed into shimmering tones through which you emerged to a height and volume noticeably more similar to that of my own. Upon this, we were joined by a choir, rich with audible and visible magnificence. The arriving choir consisted of the American Goldfinch in respectable numbers. Though only those humans abiding by certain parameters of Ahimsa could see You and Yours, in your enchanted forms, it was obvious that the gilded birds could see you as clearly as they could the indestructible beams of sunlight that leaned against the atmosphere between heaven and earth. Their adorably curved heads moved about like ballpoint pens drawing angular shapes as they tracked each of your flickers, flashes and changes in position. Some amongst their leagues hopped after you, and took short flights to keep up with You and Yours walked in a circle admiring the enchantments of the clearing and all of its miraculous design elements.
    Suddenly the American Goldfinches organized themselves into a circular perimeter about the open center of the clearing. The center of the distant sun backlit a flickering silhouette which played with the light emanating throughout the clearing. You and Yours placed your hands upon my shoulders and good feelings radiated from us and everything in our midst. From the sun formed silhouette above, there descended another American Goldfinch arriving in singular fashion. He brought with him a uniquely noble and important aura which coincided with an additional phenomena resulting in the most inspiring and startling of surprises upon my consciousness . Suddenly, all of the American Goldfinches gathered there were as easy for me to understand as the vernacular of the surroundings most familiar to me throughout the dominant percentage of my conscious physical existence.
    From the crowd, of the brilliantly colored birds, came the most lovely of communications escorted gently into my ears upon translucent tones: “King … Oh, it’s the King, our King … Make way, make way.” they said. These and similar statements, billowed forth from the crowd of the American Goldfinches gathered there in the woods, and became pleasantly and instantly apparent to me. Their utterances of respect were clearly devoid of the tone of forced requirement. It was evidently clear that the league honored their king through desire.
    I sought the eyes of You and Yours and in silence we agreed upon the wonderment of the occasion. One miracle led to the next and thus there came forth the grand addendum to the glorious events of that day. King Carduelis Tristis—as he later became known to me—walked forward and addressed us directly, and we understood his every word.
    “Welcome fellow royals. I extend our gratitude for your honorable visit to one of our many courtyards.” he said.

King Carduelis continued:”What brings you here to this courtyard which we share with the Alces, the Bos Primigenius, and other select associates.”

Between the King’s words he would respectfully transition his gaze upon each of us, letting us know that he considered us a highly important audience to his communications. I also believe that he admired our appearances in the same manner that we admired his and the other highly attractive American Goldfinches which stood as his loyal entourage.

I spoke in the same respectful manner I would utilize to address any worthwhile monarch: “Well Sir, first off it is an honor to be in your company. Regarding the nature of our visit, well, we are here as the result of my fortune within the kingdoms of men, through which I have been bequeathed the ownership of this estate. Yet, I desire only to care for and nurture this space which is not only mine, but yours as well.”

The Kings court of American Goldfinches reacted verbally to my statements: “Oh my that is wonderful … splendid … he and those with him are fine sharers … caring, and considerate.”

“Splendid.” said King Carduelis Tristis. “My feelings are certain that you are an ally, welcome amongst us, both you, and You and Yours.”

The King offered each of us a humble nod of acceptance to which we gladly returned in like fashion.

I had temporarily set down a small satchel, which contained my journal. It had slid to the open end of the carrier and had its pages gently breeze blown open to one of my most current operatic compositions, which was then a work in progress. One of the maidens of the King’s court began analyzing and studying the pages, which the journal had fallen open to. The page under her observation contained various gestural sketches, texts and musical notations, in light grey tones of exploratory pencil strokes. I recognized she was a maiden in her King’s court, as opposed to a knight or other form of male American Goldfinch, as her colors were softer than the King’s bold yellow-gold coat.

“Sir,” she said. “Will you complete … this one?” A feather tip of her outstretched wing pointed to a sketch.

“I certainly had planned to,” I responded, “however, the lyrics have not yet come clear to me.”

“Oh,” she said. “It is because it should simply be ‘La,’ and then ‘La-la-la,’ again.

I paused to look at You and Yours to see nods of agreement with her claim, and suddenly, I knew the suggestion was correct.

“Of course,” I said. “To rise above the limitations of mortal languages, ‘La,’ and then ‘La-la-la,’ again. Of course, why was that not clear to me sooner?”

The epiphany arrived in an envelope of good feelings and King Carduelis Tristis was imbued with great pride at the unanimous admiration for his court maiden’s well received advice.

“Yes,” said the proud king. “I am surrounded by brilliant and beautiful maidens, am I not.”

“Sir, thou art so.” I replied with a slight bow and a respectful nod of agreement.

The King became pleasantly distracted by something in the distance and then said: “New friends, my court and I must attend to another matter temporarily. Thus concludes our current first conversation, please assure me it will not be our last?” he said.

“The first of many, most certainly.” I replied, along with a shimmering layer of agreement vocalized by You and Yours.

With hops, skips and jumps, the American Goldfinches took to the airs above our newest estate. Their energy and enthusiasm was positively contagious and enlivening. You and Yours then asked to return to the interior of your Diamond Fortress to which I gladly obliged in the assistance of. Through the woods and mist of miracles we went, upon the winding and inspiring walking paths of our enchanted new estate. All the while I was considering where the “La’s,” and “La-la-la’s” would go upon the staves of my next operatic composition, which was enthusiastically a divine collaboration with You, Yours and the American Goldfinch.

Additional works by Marcus James Christian (pseudonymous as Marcus Unlimited) are available through:
    http://www.youtube.com/user/marcusunlimited
    http://marcusunlimited.org/
    and Apple iTunes.

JUKEBOXES: At Home Amongst the Banana Trees and Rooibos.

JUKEBOXES: At Home Amongst the Banana Trees and Rooibos.

©2013 Marcus James Christian, marcusunlimited.

I have always loved adventures, however, I have always loved coming back home just as much. I chose this planet after asking you, and everything else, from where could I do the most good. This planet, which as of this data box recording, lacks a formal name, has proven to continually be a place of inspiration and positive development for our beloved collaboration, our opera of good deeds throughout the universe.

When I emerge from the clouds, within the wingspan of my aircraft—the Branta—I am commonly met by a wash over of very good feelings. There is a contiguous line of banana trees which almost seem as if they are walking forth from the thick line of light which adheres the horizon of the forward, distant sky to the terrain of our new “second home” planet.

    The banana trees, and their glorious fruit, are not the only delicacies which I was fortunate enough to have planted here by friendly, acquainted master farmers who promised to keep this location out of common discussion.
    As of this writing I recognize that am continually improving in regards to my ability to see what I am sensing in terms of your feelings. The smiles of you and yours have become energy sources, much like the superior nourishment of the fruit provided to me by the banana trees. My affections and thankfulness for the banana fruit requested the accompaniment of a beautiful collaborator to its tastes and elevated nutritional values. Thus, after wishing with loud thoughts one evening, which you and yours heard well apparently, I woke to find a sizable field on my new home planet filled with African Rooibos. You even taught me how to make the finest tea from the red bush and the combination of it and the banana fruit is as divine as Italian baroque arias as escorted into audibility by the highly qualitative voice of the mezzo-soprano Cecilia Bartoli—of Earth. The inspiring accomplishments of men and women of Earth have not paled in comparison to these miraculous experiences and locales out here beyond the stars visible from the mountains of Earth, in fact the earthen masters of Gesamtkunstwerk, either in part or in whole are constant references and inspirational sources to me when I am out here. Reflection upon the lovely achievements of living creatures of anywhere, when joined by the powers of you and yours, have allowed me to be a powerful component for the expansion of the greater good here.
    I am now entering one of the many stone abodes in my possession here on this new planet. I can hear the ever subtle etchings of this data box which is recording my thoughts as I desire it to do such, yet, I doubt it can fully capture my enjoyment of the aroma rising forth from the lovely stone cup filled with Rooibos Tea, and the woodsy, clean, sugary effervescent perfection of the banana I am peeling within the steam of the Rooibos rising up from the stone mug on the table beneath it. I know you and yours have a way of experiencing these pleasures as well, and I recommend that you do so.




Sincerely,
~Jean Juke.


PS: I have included a compositional excerpt inspired by this data box entry as well as an illustration.

 

the American Goldfinch

theAmericanGoldfinch_1226-2012_v1, a photo by © Marcus James Christian, marcusunlimited. on Flickr.

Vector Art for recent writings.

Black Panther Theme ~ Vector Ink

♫20/320 - ♫21/320: The estate was expanding right before our eyes.

♫20/320:

    The estate was expanding right before our eyes. We could sense the confusion which befell our new friend, the American Goldfinch. Thus, we jointly reassured our new associate: “Yes, you are seeing what you believe you are seeing. While we would not wish for you to worry too much over this phenomena, we must react to the rapidly changing reality of the estate’s expansion. It is our desire to arrive safely upon the pillared patio of this estate’s mansion, there, in the progressively looming distance.”

♫21/320:

    “I shall fly as fast as I can.” said the astonished, bright yellow bird.
    The American Goldfinch then quickly ascended into a vertical loop which brought him down quickly into a direction pursuant of the estate mansion’s patio.
    “What in the world?” exclaimed the bird. Who, regardless of his spectacular speed, found himself little closer to the mansion which floated further away as the estate grew.
    “A nice effort Mr. Goldfinch, however, on an Unlimited Society estate, all forms of miracles are in a constant state of realization, both above and below the surface of common experience and understanding. Thus, you will need an uncommon advantage to thrive in such an unlimited environment.

♫ 18/320 - ♫ 19/320: Of course! Why did we not think of it on our own?

♫ 18/320:

Of course! Why did we not think of it on our own? What was an American Goldfinch doing amongst the Northeastern realms of our new estate? There exist many forms of finches and even Goldfinches in the world, but specifically an American Goldfinch crossing the Atlantic ocean, on its own, all the way to Svalbard? Uncanny.

There are few birds which could ever fly such a distance and the only one capable of such, that I was aware of–the Arctic Tern–was not the glimmering, gale-glider prancing about before us. It was clear that we were most certainly and undeniably in the presence of an American Goldfinch. It was obvious to me that it was a male American Goldfinch as the gold-yellow coat of feathers it wore was the distinctive brilliance adorned most exclusively by males of their species. A bold, saturated color which was less camouflaged than the earthier tones of the female American Goldfinches who could often hide like angels in clouds amidst the demure tones of the North American woods.

“Mr. Goldfinch,” I said. “I know just the thing to rekindle your memories. A friendly discussion, beside a warm fireplace within the estate mansion, and a grand tour of one of our opulent libraries, full of sights and sounds to catalog your memories into a cohesive framework. Then we can figure out just where in America this 'there,' is that you believe you should be.”

♫19/320:

The Goldfinch looked up and then away, as if reflecting. “A library you say? Within your own living quarters?”

“Yes, Mr. Goldfinch, such is the case.” one of my associates responded.

Mr. Goldfinch flapped his efficient, bright yellow wings in a swift flutter of hopeful excitement. The sunlight, squeezing in through the conservative opening in the caves natural roof, seemed to dance on cue throughout a myriad of reflections traveling through the diamond filled cavern. The caribou amongst us–who previously had been quite content and complacent while munching away on healthy forages of nutrient rich wheat grasses abundant in the glimmering cavern–broke from their grazing circle and formed a gateway of sorts. They stood left and right of the gently winding paths which led from the immense diamond table at the center of the cave, through the maze of curving, diamond flanked pathways and finally towards the exit of the cavern. The caribou raised their heads proudly, and individually. Each of them nodded their antlered heads as we passed by them, one-by-one, en route to the mouth of the cavern. We were treated as if a royal entourage by the saluting caribou as we exited the cavern and began our progression back to the estate mansion, with our new found friend–the American Goldfinch.

♫ 17/320 — After silent deliberations amongst ourselves we considered the proposition of the American Goldfinch ...

♫ 17/320 —




After silent deliberations amongst ourselves we considered the proposition of the American Goldfinch and proposed the following: "We would be glad to help you traverse the path from here to there. However, there are a great, many possible destinations simply 'west,' of here. Could you be a bit more specific?"

To which the brightly colored bird replied, while pacing about in a figure eight pattern atop the diamond table: "Forgive me. You may find this the oddest paradox to ever be placed before you—certainly by one such as myself—however, I cannot see the complete picture of the 'there," of which I have mentioned. I only know that where I must get to is, a place ... called ... uh ..."

"Of course!" Our thoughts interrupted the birds attempt at recollection with a definitive answer: "America!"

"Yes! America, that is where I must go!" replied the bird, obviously distracted by its own enthusiasm in the process.