Captured by a curious tale, swirling amongst rose flavored warm breezes, in a dream…
The tale unfolded……..
She was beautiful, long locks of wavy hair touched the back of her knees…
In her soul, in her being, she felt endless…
Magical…
Filled with wonderment.
But in the mirror….
In the mirror she saw tattered lines of years and years of age.
Her mind was bursting with wisdom, stories untold, earth shattering loves lost…
Her fingers could do anything.
They created, they led the way.
But the mirror—–
The mirror tried to shatter the depth of her being – her feelings of youth with arms outstretched in twirls.
In her soul, she felt perfectly young.
Beautiful, free…
Alas, time told a different tale.
She made a decision one day.
She would travel forever more, mending her soul, adding pieces of lost magic…
She saw her best friend, a machine, as shiny and new.
Just like she felt inside…
She made a pact with her own heart.
Sealed it with golden thread on a sunny warm day.
She would go from place to place…
Long lost love letters, keys to all the drawers of secrets in her soul and wonderment aplenty accompanied her on her long never-ending journey…
Bits of lace aged as well.
But still were beautiful.
She decided she was an old piece of tattered lace herself…
And so, the journey began…
For years and years and years she wore the same gown…
Adding…
Repairing…
Washing…
Embellishing.
Year after year after year she added pieces to her gown, which by now trailed behind her down the road, as she pulled her old sewing machine.
Every year the machine seemed heavier.
But, she forged on.
Through forests…
Up steep wooded hills, across streams…
She worked on her gown tirelessly.
Each piece that was sewed on, was like capturing dust particles of magic.
She was holding onto her magic for dear life.
To the burn in her belly which set her on fire for living.
To that inner magic, which kept her young and free and dreaming –
No matter what the mirror tried to say.
She believed.
And, she refused to let go.
Life tried so many times to take away everything that made her sparkly inside and out.
When a piece fell off,
she simply sewed it back on.
Collections of bits and pieces from everywhere adorned her gown.
Tea stained, torn –
Yet beautiful.
She pedaled and pedaled as the machine sewed along…
The sound of stitches going through fabric made her drink in a deep breath of fresh air.
A heavy sigh of thank goodness filled her.
It was always a reminder, that she was still everything she saw herself as in the depths of her mind's eye.
Young forever.
She held tight to that key…
Ribbons of youth poured out of her, and people caught them as she walked by.
For a moment, they felt a jolt.
A memory of being ever so young.
So free.
Of believing anything was possible.
Of seeing life as long and blurred, but filled with excitement and goodness to come.
Endless goodness.
As they felt it –
They remembered…
The years when you couldn't feel your body.
When no ache and pain graced you at all.
When your heart was untainted.
When you felt love for life, instead of frustration and fear.
And they followed her…
Begging for a patch of magic here and there…
Longing to be mended as well.
And so, she mended them too.
But mostly, she mended herself.
Each piece of that long tattered gown, held together by the threads of time.
When even time was young.
And….
When she found herself deeply hurt and falling –
When she faced things that the golden threads could simply not hold together…
That was when would seal her wounds with glitter…
As warm breezes of flower petals enveloped her.
That is when she remembered who she was.
Who she always would be.
Beautiful, free, arms outstretched twirling in the wind forever.
Lines of time, no matter………
Just a little tale that found its way to me in the early morning breeze…
Love, V
ps: The Sucré album, A Minor Bird, is absolutely lovely (snippet tune above). I can't stop listening (I got my copy on ITunes). Sooo many lovely flutters and depth of sounds in each song – even some really fun unexpected sounds midway in songs like Chemical Reaction. I am loving the entire album. I so recommend it. It's on repeat in my house…
Wonderfully Woven tale, I would never want to awake from a splended dream like that…🖤Debi
You have warmed my heart to no end.
A remarkable vision.
The threads joining together,
A stream that listens and speaks.
Queen of the red hills,
Heavenly destiny and earthly story.
Heavenly and earthly alike.
Finding each other as unfurled hair
Flies across truly divinely free….
Vanessa:
I’m probably the only reader of your blog old enough to actually FEEL like the girl in the story. Young on the inside but sad in her own mirror.
I need to start sewing my gown….
xoxo
Kim
Gerushia’s New World
Oh Miss Vanessa, I love Love LOVE this post!!! I can soooo picture herself in this tale to an uncommonly canny extent it is magical. Queenie is timeless at heart but more and more I pull out the glitter, carefully repair and repatch that which breaks off or inadvertantly wanders off. Layers upon layers added and adorned. Pass the tissues, I’m having a moment…
… I’m better now… :o)
I have an old treadle machine I traded for some artist dolls I created years back. I just love all the artistry and detail of the machine and its table! I just need a treadle belt and some spare hours cleaning and oiling and it should be in working order.
Thank you for sharing this wonderful tale!!!
Have a great day!
Always, Queenie
What a beautiful, enchanting tale, I ADORE it â€
I think you have captured one of the most important lessons of life with these pictures, and those words. Pictures that don’t need explaining and words that explain themselves. A mirror is often viewed as a foe to those of us who want to remain young, as it reflects the effects of time. But really, all we have to do is look harder at our reflections to see the youth inside of us. Really, this is the biggest life lesson anyone will ever get. And I think there is a reason it was blown to you, to share with us…almost like magic 🙂
A beautiful tale….oh, to honor our young hearts…our youthful magic and marry them with the wisdom we gain through insight and growth…
Oh wow!One of your best-where ever it came from.I’m totally in enchanted by this poem.Me,being 59 can really relate.Now back to the music
Your decoration is very nice. Can you do hand made gift.
So beautiful, and I needed it this morning. I can sooooooooo relate. I have been trying to mend my spirit and body (stress and newly diagnosed illness) with glitter. You brought me to tears. Thank you.
Lisa
My dear V…I cannot express how delighted we (we = the house toys &I) are to hear that you are joining in the party!
I opened my e-mails and dicovered your comment. The dolls came in my office to see if I was ok as I had remained silent for a while ( very unusual), then, the teddy bears came to see as the dolls had been quiet for a while ( even more unusual). I pointed at your message.
You should have seen our faces.
Eyes and mouths wide open.
Silence.
Then…it came into a blast!!! **+*+–+*..+*+.
*.*.*.*+*+*+*.*+*+*.*.*+*
WEEEHHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!YAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!EEEEEEEEEEEEEEhAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Teddies and dolls jumping and dancing everywhere!!!
Aaaaaaaaaaaawwww, it is a shame I didn’t have my video camera to show you but…am sure you can picture the scene in your mind.
By the way…we absolutely adore the beautiful pictures, the lace and we can almost smell the flowers. Heaven and bliss in your heart. Love it! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Wonderous post Miss Vanessa, the tale made me smile. Your sewing machine is one like I remember growing up…Sure wish I still had it.
Lovely post dearie. I am much the same, young inside, but time’s patina visible in the mirror … until I see the twinkle in the eye and remember the little irrepressible little girl with red hair and so full of life. I am still me, and I love my tattered finery more every day.
Blessings ~ Eileen@Starsfault
I just love your blog, it is one of my 2 favorites. My other favorite, as it turns out, is beautifulmess.typepad.com. The owner of the blog is Elsie Larson, whose husband is in the band Sucre who plays the song you posted above! What a small world!
-Naomi
You enthralled me with this magical tale! It was like reading a book I could not put down until I reached the ending! I have chills from reading it! Can you believe it??? I feel like I just left ‘Through the Secret Keyhole’ for it is such a story I would find on your ethereal blog! What weaves (is that a word?) of magic the lady wove with her enchanted sewing machine and yards and yards of ribbon and lace…you inspire me to make a doll from this magical tale of yours…The Lady of the Everlasting Gown!!! Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could really wear a gown that would keep us young forever? And our youth flowing out to others as we pass them by in life? I think you just added ten more years to my life or maybe I went backward and received ten years of youth back! Bless you my dear! ( God knows I have that much fabric and lace and ribbons at my disposal!!!)Hee! Hee!
Have a glorious Sunday!
Miss Frabulous Teresa
This is funny, odd, coincidental…but I had not yet watched the video, and I thought the lady in your tale should be wearing wings too! And low and behold, the girl in ‘When we were young’ had a gown and was wearing wings!!! Perfect!!!
Ohhh mIzz V… my eyes are still teary & misty, from reading your beeautiful post… so much a part of me was weave in & out of your fairy tale that I had to stop & wipe away the tears… you see, I see myself as 51 years young… some might say that I am old, but you see there are many that are younger than me in numbers but older then me in heART, mind & soul…
so as I dance, sing & dance some more around today ~ doing things here & there in my blue polka dot dress with my demin jacket, my new pixie hair cut & mary jane crocs I was filled with delight even on a rainy day… from the crowning of the Blessed Mother, to shopping for my new little niece “JoAnna May”, to having a pedicure (& painting my toenails blue), driving my Yellow Volkswagon Bug around town, sitting at a little cafe for a “Cinco de Mayo” lunch ~ my day was filled with many many blessings and your post just added to them…
I “bEelieve” that it’s not what on the outside that counts, it’s the bEeauty lies within… your post is another affirmation for me to bEelieve that my dREaM will soon bEe reality.. I must say I too have a sewing machine like the young gal above, the difference is my machine holds the name of Cinderella on it, who like the young gal above bEelieve in her dREaMs ~ how fitting can this bEe, sew delightful most get her out and use her, & sew & sew & sew away! To sew up my magic so it will stay forever & a day for me ;O)
Thank you from the bottom of my heArt!
Have a honey of a night ~ sweet dREaMs!
Marlene ;O) xox
Thank-you for this beautiful story that I read today on my 62nd birthday. It made me feel good and I feel inspired…
Susan
GG Pinkster makes me cry…….
“Ribbons of youth poured out of her, and people caught them as she walked by”……..that will be you, Vanessa, forever young
Oh, Vanessa………and what a beautiful tale it is that has reached you on the wind.
Houstons Source For Modern and Contemporary Home and Office Furniture Since 1982, Leather Furniture, Recliners, Dining Tables and Chairs, Bedroom Furnituremodern furniture Houston
This is magical Vanessa. It reminds me of a rather strange and enchanted gown I bought myself once. I bought a royal purple and gold dress from gypsies at a street market in Galway, Ireland. Were they really gypsies? Who knows, but they were peculiar folk. The dress was made of pure Indian silk and fit me like a glove, quite peculiarly, since it had no size on it. However, once the dress came home with me, it started falling apart 🙁 Pieces would come off and I started to realize perhaps it had been shoddily made. I’ve been inspired by you, to be like this magical character and add bits of lace and silk to it when it decides to fall to pieces. I seem to have many tales from old Ireland for you of late tee hee. Oh and there is a peculiar spam comment above mine, how odd.
Vanessa, I love this post so much! What a wonderful story. It just describes how I feel right now.
Happy Belated Birthday Susan!!!! 🖤
You have brought me to tears……..I never thought I would be so old and decrepit, but I see you have many women of a “certain” age you reached out to, today…….
You stitch together a beautiful tale…like always. Studio tour for me this mother’s day, but will share it later in the day with my kiddo and my mom…special special time of year!
x..x
Oh how enchanting this tale was!!!! Simply enchanting. Thank you very much, Vanessa – you took me to another world!!! 🙂
My Dearest Beloved Fanciful Friendling, Vanessa! My how your title has grown. I am working my way backward then I’ll work my way forward, but as I scrolled down the page your sewing machine caught my eye. She is beautiful indeed with all her buckled wood and peeling veneer. Why your machine reminds me of the woman in your tale…a lovely tale woven with ribbons and lace. You my friend are sheer delightment with all your whimsical ways.
xoxo Cori
PS. I miss you too and will try not to stay away. Thank goodness I only have two weeks left then freedom for the summer!! “-)
OOH! I have that very same peice of brocade fabric only mine has the pink stripes. Just yesterday I was looking at it and wondering what could I make. Maybe a new fancy vest with a pink velvet back 🙂
Where’d she find that piece of aqua lace anyway?
Oooo… you made me all teary! =P
What a perfectly wonderful, wonderfully perfect story. She just mended a piece of me… Thank her for me, if you see her again. <3
It's funny how things can make your heart ache and burst with joy at the same time. ^-^ It's an awful and wonderful feeling, and I treasure it... for I know that I've stumbled across something truly special when I feel it.
XOXO