Stories at the Park: inspired by Hana Hoo

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About Hana Hoo

HanaHana Hoo is a woman of many talents: artist, writer, traveller, roleplayer, storyteller and more. Her blogs, The Runes of the Gatekeeper’s Daughter and Desert Mice and Dreams, which focuses on her story writing, are a joy to read.

Hana’s art is often a wonderful mix of the physical and the virtual, the two enticingly mixed to present not so much an image, but a tale; a place where the line between our perception of what is real and what is a dream becomes blurred,the two fading seamlessly into one another.

“I am a storyteller, but at the same time I am very visual because a good image will tell a story of its own,” Hana says of herself. “I love to explore the mystery of light and shadow at play and I’m fond of both woodland and old stones. In SL I began to see some of my own stories reflected in fantasy landscapes, so I began to use some of the images I photographed here with my stories.”

In this, Hana’s work serves as something of a reflection of our own relationship with virtual environments as well; for most of us, the “divide” between our physical and virtual selves is also blurred, a space where we can ebb and flow from one to another.

Stories and Poems

Alice is Watching by Kayden Oconnell

(for Alice is Watching)

Alice is Watching by Hana Hoo, Art at the Park, April 2016

I’m waiting for Alice.
It’s long past the time.
The party has started –
this nonsense sublime.

The dormouse and Hatter
are eyeing the tarts.
They’re spiking the tea
with anisette hearts.

I’m only a hare
with rabbity brain.
I fear that they’re silly
or maybe insane.

Or maybe we fell
up the hole to the sky
where the world is ignoble
where no one can fly.

The carousel circles
back ahead where we were.
If Alice was watching,
we’d be so less unsure.

That Cheshire cat smile
and that unnerving purr.
I can’t help but wonder–
could that be her?

Not What It Seems by Caledonia Skytower

(for Sanctuary)

Sanctuary by Hana Hoo, Art at the Park, April 2016

“Once you cross the bridge, you’ll find safety,” the old woman had said just before the coin had dropped into her sweaty palm. Looking across the bridge at the moss covered cottage with the dark, smoky windows, Meg was suspicious. It looked like another house cleaning gig just waiting. More hours on her knees, more scrub brushes and wrinkly wet hands.

The front door creaked open slowly, ominously. A grimy gnome stepped into the doorway. He was dragging a mop.

Meg turned and walked back over the bridge.

The Gnome called out after her, “Mistress! Was it something I said?”

My Light Shine by Caledonia Skytower

(for The Dancer- You Were Only Waiting For This Moment to Arise)

The Dancer- You Were Only Waiting For This Moment to Arise by Hana Hoo, Art at the Park, April 2016

star shine
my time
feel fine
and dance.

no drop
feet hop
can’t stop
the thrill.

don’t care
all there
swing fair

you know
fast, slow
all go
my release

my bright
shinin’ light
such a sight
I don’t care

see me
let be
join thee
with thine own light.

The Lake of Longing by Kayden Oconnell

(for The Lake of Longing)

It was real, wasn’t it?
There was this place,
this untroubled place,
where the horizon melted into the sky
and the air was of gauze.

We could only see what we wanted to see
and hope wasn’t necessary.
There was water
and grace
and light that didn’t illumine, but warmed.

The Lake of Longing by Hana Hoo, Art at the Park, April 2016

We could reach out,
to try to touch it,
to hold it,
and maybe to keep it close

This must not be dream,
but memory.
And memory is mirror to life,
when life was fresh spring simple
and never looked to end
and never grew up.

It was real.

Black is the New White by Caledonia Skytower

The Messenger by Hana Hoo, Art at the Park, April 2016

(for The Messenger)

That Apollo’s a tough boss, I am tellin’ you!

See I don’t make judgements, I don’t interpret. I leave that to the religious-types and the politicos. They’ll make something up far more clever than I would. “Just the facts, man” – that’s me!

But here’s one time the truth did not sent me free. Who knew he’d get so mad? I mean one minute it’s, “Hey Raven, how’s it shakin’?” and the next ZAPPO! I can still feel the heat of it.

Ah hell, is all that soot comin’ from me?

The good news?

At least he didn’t shoot me!

The Stones by Caledonia Skytower

(for There Was A Time)

There Was A Time by Hana Hoo, Art at the Park, April 2016

Her sandals slapped on the cobbles crossing the bridge, dodging people with cameras and Smartphones saluting the sky, capturing the keep. Her found herself wondering.

This used to be about defence, about status and family. The winding ramps felt the clamping of hooves and the tramping of boot. The circles of stone stairs buoyed small slipper-clad feet and bore the weight of care-worn leather ones.

It used to be about stables and great halls. Now it is about car parks and interpretive centres.

Inside, she placed a hand against the weathered stones, waiting for them to tell her their story.

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Note: all written works by Caledonia Skytower ©2016 by Judith Cullen and all works by Kayden Oconnell © 2016 by Kevin Lee. Reproduced with the permission of the authors. If you plan to reblog any or all of the poems and stories, please ensure you have the authors’ written consent first.