Sunday, July 22, 2012

PBP 18: Order of the Golden Monarch



There's a place on the astral called The Order of the Golden Monarch.

More specifically, that's what the Order call themselves. The building in which they meet, and mostly live, is called the Temple of the Golden Monarch.

It's interesting because they make no marking on their doors, which are glass, quite ornate, and very tall, (at least as tall as two men, stacked upon each other) but think, and not delicate. In fact, the building, which from the outside seems to be single-floored, is in fact a cleverly disguised illusion. To the passerby, it would seem like a long, elegantly designed greenhouse, with a silver frame and thick glass panels, so as not to reveal what's inside.




The frame looks rather like this, but easily a half mile long.

The building itself is on its own plane; impenetrable to those who don't have business there. The building seems unassuming and unprotected, nestled in a grand meadow of wildflowers and groomed rose gardens. The building faces an open courtyard, with gravel pathways that crunch underfoot. In the center of the courtyard is a grand, circular fountain with statuary in the center (a mermaid, 2 fish, and of course, flowers) which at night gives off a faint blue glow. Upon approach, one is overtaken by the rich smell of lavendar and spice, which they cultivate closely around the courtyard. The plants are high enough to touch, and velvety. Often they develop an otherworldly warmth that seems to come from within. One could assume this is from the nature of that plane, or the successful scholarship of those who study there.

Many come from all over to bask in the strange exotic scents the hybrid orchids they cultivate seem to give off, like a mix of vanilla and patchouli. The orchids are strategically placed around benches in the area.

When one approaches the building, there is again an alarming lack of defenses. The glass doors open of their own accord, long enough for you to glimpse the silver butterfly handle, or perhaps feel how the glass is cool yet somehow feels incorpeal at the same time, but not long enough to cause uncessary pause.

 {The architecture is trippy like this}

You may notice one of two things first: one, the brilliant filtered sunlight that illuminates the whole of the interior, or two, the verdant smell of a thousand types of plants held within the same building, mixed with the old scent of leather bound books in an attic. For the second floor of this building, which hugs the walls and overlooks the ground floor, is a giant research greenhouse, home to several hundred strains of plant, herb, and poison, and home to several hundred birds as well. The ground floor is a handsome library; freestanding Oaken shelves filled with a myriad of very old books, quiet study rooms, comfortable seeming lounge chairs and couches, and other standard library fare.

There are two strange elements: One, a large, marble seeming statue in the center of the Ground Floor, featuring a Monarch butterfly in flight, supported by an artistic rendition of wind supporting it, and Two, that the Ground Floor is also a butterfly nursery. The patrons (who are all dressed in long, white robes, which are slightly silken to the touch and knotted at the waist by cords) coexist utterly with the butterflies they raise here. They flit along the ceiling, the benches, the chairs, up into the second floor greenhouse and back down to land amongst the shelves. They glide effortlessly in groups of 50 or more, every color and none, some Otherworldly with wings of metal that reflect the sun; some black as night with entire universes in their wings. They have no fear of people: wait long enough in one place, and a brilliant violet butterfly as large as a dinner plate may grant you a visit. (Feel the wings, if you get one: these butterflies aren't harmed by it. They feel like feathers, or soft cloth.)



The library has no tender or check out system; the building itself breathes and sees and is conscious of its stores. There are a few dedicated members of the Order who live within the giant greenhouse (the quarters are through a hidden back door in the library) and tend to the plants, books, and research, but this is considered a very high honor and only a few do so.

Those who seek answers are guided to the correct shelf in the library. How, you ask? The Butterflies also contain a secret. Enter the library with purpose, and a Butterfly will personally guide you to the book you require. This is the purpose of their raising. They live in a symbiotic relationship with the greenhouse and the Order, and as such they can see and function on a level other Beings cannot.

All the knowledge of the ages is contained in the books here. Each is like a portal into another realm of existence; energy bound in old, cracked leather that's rough to the touch and pages that are yellowed and smudged in places. Do you have a question? Why not enter the library? You've been standing outside this whole time...

~*~

I have a confession to make, dear readers: I just involved you all in a thought experiment. An astral experiment, as it were.

Because the place I described up there? It doesn't exist. Or rather, it didn't exist, until I took you through it.

Let me explain.

Creating shit on the astral is all about having a clear vision for something, and then engaging your 5 senses with it on purpose, because the more deeply you fall into the vision, the stronger the creation becomes, until it gains a metaphysical/corpeal status.

The elements I borrowed for this story exist, but the place didn't before I created it. And you co-created it, the reader, if you let yourself get lost in my tale. I engaged all of your senses, and if all went well, you were taken in and 'there' before you were aware of it. I'm showing you that astral creation and your 'imagination' are really not different.

I had you create something astrally before you had a chance to explain to me why you couldn't do it. I engaged your energy before your rationality could tell me no, that's impossible.

What I did was supply you with an astral blueprint. I showed you what this place would look like, and in your mind you saw and felt and tasted and touched and went there. You created this place in your inner space, and on the Astral. And if the next reader after you does the same, they will also be creating the space. And if a hundred other people read this and contribute THEIR thoughts and energy to this astral blueprint, like constructing a building, the vision will grow stronger.

I supplied you with benchmarks: photos to aid your visualization, to ensure you started with something before launch. I led you into the vision, and I placed you at the gates to my blueprint, but you're the one who created the place. And, since you created it, you can use it. It's yours. Try going inside and exploring. Hold a question in your mind and go to the books. I gave you a portal to real astral knowledge, and you're the one who stepped through it and came out on the other side before you knew what happened.

This, in a nutshell, is an idea of Chaos Theory. Give many people the same sigil or Blueprint, or tell them the layout of a Temple all members can use, and they will all add their energy and Mind to it, co-creating, with many other peoples, a place anybody can access and use.

This was a thought experiement on my part. I want to see what happens to this place (because the moment I wrote about it, and had the original idea, it was a Place on the astral.) in 2 weeks, or 2 months. I want to see if several people can alter the vision. Will it expand? Or change? How? I left many descriptions purposefully vague because I want to know where people take the blueprint.

Blueprints, in this case, are merely suggestions. I open them up to you, the traveler.

Technically, you, the readers who made this place: YOU are the 'real' Order of the Golden Monarch.

And yes, this was completely my Astral contacts' idea. I swear we'll be back to normal posts after this...

~*~

{Images from Wikipedia.org, and lifted from Freshomezine}

7 comments:

  1. Clever.

    You explained what I've been wondering about for a while, in the relationship between creative works and the astral realms. The line between them is even blurrier than I thought. Maybe...Maybe this is what I need to really get started: a prompt.

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    1. The line is almost nonexistant. We accidentally trip over it all the time.

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  2. Mind trip. Utter mind trip. The place seemed familiar to me, but it is prolly half-forgotten memories of similar places and not this place.

    My head hurts just thinking about the ramifications of creating an astral plane.

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    1. This place is a very archetypical nostalgic feeling place. I think it will feel familiar to many people.

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  3. Know what's interesting? My ex is studying to become an architect, and had to create a library very similar in makeup to the picture you added, down to the long part that you can see jutting out the window. What you don't see is the large concrete staircase that leads up to the doors with greenery on each side, or the multitude of trees you only get a hint of in the pic you provided. The area he worked with is based on an actual place, but they just used the area and its features to come up with what would be a plausible design for a library, with some interesting features using windows and light to make the space open up more, nontraditional ideas of what space should be used for, etc.

    A thought: if architechture students think up a building and create it, and by thinking so much about it and working on its dimensions through graphing and drawing, does that building also appear in the astral?

    Btw, I'm reblogging this to help strengthen the foundations of the place. Hope this little nudge helps it along in its growth.

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    1. A funny thing: what I imagined is different because when I loaded this post the first time, the image of the greenhouse was broken. This changes things, but I also noticed that my mind had a tendency to relate what I saw with something already familiar, similar to the half-forgotten memories Alichino mentions. This speaks on the creative process itself: a half-remembering, a re-assembling of that which is already known, an infinity of possibilities and combinations. Food for thought. :)

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    2. NOW YOU'RE THINKING LIKE A CHAOS MAGICIAN. I wouldn't be surprised if they end up on the astral. You can't go 15 feet without tripping over some random abandoned building, seriously.

      Creation on any plane is a cycle of destruction and renewal...

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