Riddle Me this

What two things can always see what the other sees, but can never see each other?

Answer: Eyes

Answer: Eyes
Mauvable's picture



LOL which venue? Here I am

LOL which venue? Here I am theano...deer here go from children to elderly, students to professors, animators, graphic artists, children authors, artists, homemakers, professionals, hmmm did the rules change been here for 9 years. Usually do guest now in the game. Is the new Endless Forest going to have rules.... usually the motto is no rules. Most of the writers have disappeared started last year. Use to have lovely role playing sessions for a good read. I write for a living mostly, teach as well, and do evaluations. I illustrate but not at the level most artists do here, have published work academically and as a writer in a variety of venues. Most of what I do is confidential so do not share that much. Have a dying father so I have written more than usual by making him a deer--he loved them so in the days he wandered in the woodlands of the Midwest. I am a teller of tales, a singer of songs with an occasional bout of composing and illustrator of children's books sometimes. Most of the writers have not come back of course in the early years there was not much writing but then a group started the role playing. Hope life treated them kindly. Notice the evenings few come now use to be many. I could give you a long stellar list of accomplishments but it would not mean much to anyone except me. If my play offended you I apologize.
Mauvable's picture

Pleasantly surprised

Pleasantly surprised actually! A lot of us weren't sure if you were someone real or just a bot. I wasn't expecting an answer but it's really cool to know that someone is back there making these posts. Not offended at all, I assure you. I enjoy it, I think everyone does.

I'd love to see some of your illustrations. A lot of the people who roleplayed are still here, you can find their bios by checking out the other players pages and posts. c:

Do you use deviantArt?

Writers are still around,

Writers are still around, though mostly off-site. It has always been a pleasure to interact with your posts over the years. I've been lurking lately, but your writings of your deer-father touched me deeply. Now I wish I had taken the time to reply.
Kaoori's picture

I'm glad you're here. The

I'm glad you're here. The forest feels like.. home? Knowing you've been around all these years.
wormwoods's picture

I'm so glad to know there's

I'm so glad to know there's someone enjoying themselves behind this account! I was always curious. Thanks for posting your bits of writing for us.

Formerly ocean.

Mauveable Oh awesome.

Mauveable Oh awesome. Understood. I am glad the role playing is around. I find it when I click on a name. I have a few things on deviantart not alot. I have files of pencil sketching mostly but it is not deer. Though I have done some of those. If you manage to get a book published with illustrations much like a commission they have rights and so curtails the display. Smiling Art is extremely lovely or cutting edge here. I enjoy both. I mostly write.

Oh awesome. Understood. I am

Oh awesome. Understood. I am glad the role playing is around. I find it when I click on a name. I have a few things on deviantart not alot. I have files of pencil sketching mostly but it is not deer. Though I have done some of those. If you manage to get a book published with illustrations much like a commission they have rights and so curtails the display. Smiling Art is extremely lovely or cutting edge here. I enjoy both. I mostly write.

I enjoy your postings as well

I enjoy your postings as well Witcher always intriguing. I come and play mostly and I lurk many times just fascinated by all the possibilities creatives come up with. Being touched makes us human an here with the keyboard adds an element to the game with the neck rubbing which functions as a greeting in some ways among those with common interests. Think our minds go much further than our bodies. To touch each other through the cyber space through a shared experience seems natural here but others do not understand. Intense bonds happen in the game and here. You watch it over the years. It is real just the vehicle for it is different. In some ways moving the physical senses back a bit allows some relationships to form a deepness unlike any other. Deer -father is not the normal case. Healthy but fading. It touches on those inner questions we all have of what if I am not enough, when do I not matter and yet in the writing of it you find it matters, it is enough. Mind does over come frail body. Remote presence does happen especially among family deer.

Kaoori, I feel the same. I

Kaoori, I feel the same. I come here and you feel the others. Some are so lovely. It is like a home. We gather, we play, we write so share our illustrations. Sometimes like this year the physical life we are in blends with the deer life we share together here. Deer come in and out of our activities. Our inner most thoughts spill out in the illustrations or the writings. You can see the chaos or feel the reordering. You even feel when someone or something is missing. So sometimes I go wander through the posts to feel the echo of them again or a write a piece that tells of the ones in the trees, the masterpieces created digitally displayed here, or the antics in the forest. Images share so deeply sometimes even the color palettes whisper of deeper things.

The red sun lay heavy on the

The red sun lay heavy on the horizon wormwood in your world and in mine a red sun lay heavy on the line between the community property of the road that lays in front of my home and my driveway. It has served as a beacon of knowing that place that spot my children have stood, my mom and dad have walked on and of all those I have known and moved into spirit form. I realized the red sun in this world guides to communications with neighbors and through mail relatives but that red sun also travels with those wh have gone before me ...Beside it here lay the two names of my living children that wrote it in the grit of wet cement so long ago. Frozen moment in time until I saw the title of your post which took the red sun and made it move to the presence to live again. Bits and pieces of roleplaying of blogs of the numerous pictures run phrases and visual memories of events and people in my mind attaching a personal schema while at the same time a meld of someone else's experience or imagination occurs. Some in my family would speak of quantum physics, of parallels all about us which artists often sense and display. Others would grab a favorite book or sacred text and point to the metaphors that support that. Some would just call it beauty and leave it at that.
wormwoods's picture

It's strange how much a

It's strange how much a specific place or time can really affect us. I got the title for that blog (and some other writing bits besides) from seeing the sun go red outside my window. It was such a strange moment that I wound up writing something right away, which I hadn't done in ages. It evolved into something bigger over time because the image of a red sun just...stayed with me.

I always wonder what people feel or think when they've read something I've written; it's so variable but also really rewarding. I'm glad my blog title brought up such an interesting and lovely set of memories for you!

Formerly ocean.

A person has their world and

A person has their world and point of view due to culture and circumstance. Then someone writes a phrase or draws an image that evokes a memory or an emotion. Even though it is in the context of that person's experience creating it, it becomes enriched by the other person's experience as well. You no longer for that moment are locked into just your culture and circumstance. A doorway opens and for a moment you experience what someone else did. Perspective changes when that happens. You have another way to view the image, phrase or experience and that makes its richer, deeper and more connective to the larger world.

As a writer, artist, and singer I experience the same evolving of phrase, image, notes as life moves forward. Things done or seen even in my childhood pop back into my life. At times it goes back to simple lines and the child version of it all which refreshes, other times I have a burst of creativity that takes it to the next level. Once in a while it goes to the wilds. It totally reinvents itself in an unexpected way and as we all know we get a revelation about ourselves sometimes pleasant and sometimes highly uncomfortable. Other times a creation will be a writing that becomes an image that I then put to sound in order the creative side of me decides.

I find it makes my educator, computer programmer and evaluator much more insightful. At the same time when viewing images of a creator you ponder how much of what you think is thoughts from your perspective and how much are you discerning of the artist intent. What is it you missed in the symbols or words or notes one chooses to create that evoked that in another person so far from your own experience? For a writer it becomes a rich source to create fiction stories or to add sensory imagery to non-fiction.

I scan for such phrasing or moments in an image creation. I love to find hidden images within the paint swirls or digital pixels mediums. Ghostly images waiting to be found and their stories told. Smiling

I enjoyed the conversation

I enjoyed the conversation but so many here need the silence and images. Though images are the beginning of writing...little pictographs abstracted long ago... I suppose when you minimize the story or writing you are taking it back to its beginning of pictures representing a concept. Never can decide if that is truly a beginning or an abstraction, is it the next level or is it a branch in a path ... have to find an experience to evolve that...