A habitat created by a client that was too beautiful and interesting not to share:
Its a windy desolate place. A small hut made of rocks.. A sandy gravel floor. Warm, not cold. On top of a mountain looking across a valley. Mountains decorated with trees, but sparsely decorated. On the outskirts of my world.
Go there and she is there (the old woman). She gestures for me to come into the hut and I aks if I can bring william or angus with me and she shakes her head “no”.
Go into the hut. There’s an old man with a really long beard that he’s knotted in several places. A fire burning. The fire is loud. The sandy gravel crunches under my feet.
The woman gestures at me to sit down next to the fire so I do. She puts big furs around my shoulders and gestures at me to look at the man “watch” she says.
He smiles a toothless smile at me and dips his ladle into a big pot that is next to the fire, and then drops whatever is in the ladel into a big pot of water that is bubbling on top of the fire. He stirs it. I look away and instantly the old woman says “watch”. “Watch.”. Very calmly and quietly.
He looks at me again “guardare” he says “guardare” (this is italian for watch)
He puts both hands in the pot of bubbling water and swirls the water. The steam from the water turns pale blue. He tips his head and mutters something and then lifts his hands out of the pot. In his hands he has a big flat gold thing (rock maybe?) in the shape of an egg. It radiates and pulses golden light. He hands it to the woman “guardare” and she rubs/polishes it with her old skirt.
“Wait” she says and points at the gold thing “wait.”
The old man repeats the same process but this time after the woman has polished it she says “watch”. “Watch”.
And a third time, this time a smaller rock and this time she says “see.”. “See. Patience. Reward.”
The old man grasps my hands and shakes them. The wind outside dies down. The woman puts the rocks on a shelf where they continue to radiate and glow and pulse. She takes the furs off my shoulders and strokes my hair.
I know it’s time for me to go. I get up and take one last look at the rocks on the shelf, pulsating gold in the darkness of the stone hut.
I step outside and a big gust of cleansing wind comes from beind and rushes over me. The sun comes out. The rocks crunch underfoot. I start to walk away. I look back at the old man and woman and they smile. She says “I’m here for you, I’m always here, you know where I am”. He says “vie vie” (he seems to be italian – this basically means go).
I turn around and I’m on the edge of the mountain and I lift my arms up, the strong wind comes again and I swoop off the mountain.
I’m floating across the tree tops heading back to my house in my world.