flax-golden tales: elevator to your destiny

elevatorelevator to your destiny

There’s an up button and a down button but they don’t really mean what they say.

It’s a preliminary test, to assess your state of mind.

(They’ll tell you in secretive tones that up is always better than down, but that’s not at all true.)

Once an elevator decides to let you in, the direction it goes is always personalized for the rider.

But you have to know where you want to go.

If you don’t know, the elevator won’t move.

This part can be intimidating.

Many choose the stairs for fear of ending up in an immobile elevator.

(The trick is: you don’t have to be certain about your destination, you just have to have an idea.

And you can always try again.)

 

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

flax-golden tales: pray to strange gods and receive strange answers

strange godspray to strange gods and receive strange answers

The strange gods are gods of the in-betweens and the unnoticed things, but they are still gods.

Gods of lost socks and orphaned foxes and 3:52pm.

And they will answer your prayers, if they are in the mood.

Say hello and wish them well and hold out your hands.

They might send you feathers or fountain pens or illustrations ripped from children’s books.

Bits of broken neon signs or rotary telephones or roller skates.

Or they might ignore you entirely.

Or they might respond in ways that are not as tangible as skeleton keys and candy hearts.

And the strange gods don’t particularly care if you believe in them or not.

They don’t particularly believe in you, either.

 

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

2 things i <3 right now

cocktails & pandemic

Thing 1:

When I had bronchitis and I was basically useless and after I’d watched Wreck-It Ralph four times I started watching episodes of TableTop on YouTube. I have not been much of a board game person beyond never finishing a single game of Monopoly as a child and an enduring fondness for Clue! but watching other people play newer games was oddly fascinating and entertaining (I think it would be even if you weren’t nursing a fever) and beyond that was a fantastic way to get a sense of the games themselves.

So when I could breathe again I went out and picked up a couple of games that I’d been intrigued by and now I am a little bit obsessed with Pandemic. I’ve never really played a cooperative board game before and really like it and it’s reminded me how much I like strategizing. And swearing at inanimate objects. Also I feel like it’s teaching me better geography.

This is pretty much Wil Wheaton‘s fault, but I have been fond of Wil ever since I watched Star Trek: TNG on a tiny black & white tv and had no idea how ugly Wesley’s sweaters were. True story.

 

Thing 2:

In keeping with the “things I couldn’t do when I was sick” theme, I am back to creative cocktailing and I’m playing with something I was introduced to via Julibox a few months ago: the wine-based cocktail.

Tonight’s experiment was a variation on a recipe they’d sent that I made a few creative substitutions for and ended up with a pinot noir/apple brandy/Licor 43 (which is, by the way, one of my new favorite things)/pomegranate juice/lemon concoction that was really quite lovely.

I’m getting better at creative substitutions. And fixing cocktails if they don’t quite come together on the first try. Also, it’s nice to have options for wine that are sangria-esque without being proper sangria.

 

Both of these things combined are doing wonders for keeping my brain awake and my inner editor distracted, which is precisely what I need right now.

flax-golden tales: validator

validatorvalidator 

People love the Validator.

They swear by it and whenever it’s broken they complain, loudly and widely.

The problem with the Validator is that it does not discriminate.

It’s just a post, really, with big letters that spell VALIDATOR and a stamping bit on top for validations.

And it’ll validate anything.

Your deepest fears or your unfounded biases or your parking.

It doesn’t care, or rather, it gives the appearance of not caring.

It does break a lot.

Some people whisper that the Validator breaks itself on purpose.

Ashamed of its own apathy.

 

About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.