Lord of Free Lands All Over

The Gypsy Davey

The Gypsy Davey

The Faire stretches for miles. For miles and realms. So much to do, and people might say of my kind (and they’d be wrong!), to steal. I prefer to steal only hearts, but that is my way.

Today, I took in the sights of Odyssey. A day off from the bustle of the selling tent and the green fortuneteller we brought to this year’s Faire. She’ll be better next year, or we’ll find another.

As I say, I prefer to steal only hearts.

As I say, I prefer to steal only hearts.

As I say, I prefer to steal only hearts. It serves me very well: I love women, and women love me back, sometimes rather too much.

I have taken the day off, dressed for heart-stealing, and I’ve come to the most beautiful place.

Here, there are fountains and statues, mermaids and waves, for as far as the eye can see.

Here, there are fountains and statues, mermaids and waves, for as far as the eye can see.

Here, there are fountains and statues, mermaids and waves, for as far as the eye can see. I think this mermaid likes me.

In fact, I know she likes me.

In fact, I know she likes me.

In fact, I know she likes me. See how her face is transformed in ecstasy. This is why I love women.

From a high vantage point, I can see the people below, enjoying the Faire for only its shopping.

From a high vantage point, I can see the people below, enjoying the Faire for only its shopping.

From a high vantage point, I can see the people below, enjoying the Faire only for its shopping. How many of them, I wonder, take the time to climb into the stratosphere and experience it all from above.

Not that I have anything bad to say about the shoppers: No; I like shoppers very much, from the point of view of the perpetual merchant that I am.

But sometimes, sometimes, looking down at them all, I feel a sense of smugness. I’m here; you’re there; you can’t see me… and then.

Then, I look down, at possibly the wrong time, possibly the right time.

Then, I look down, at possibly the wrong time, possibly the right time.

And I see her, the Faerie Queen. I should have known she’d be here at the Faire. Something tugs at me. Tugs at my soul. But I am her lover, not her consort; her fantasy, not her King.

In brown wings, like an ethereal moth she flutters on the ground with her friend, the satyr.

And for a moment, I am sure they are looking up at me. Sure she will call to me, call my name, and my nature will be unravelled, once again, as it was for so many nights in Faerie.

But then—maybe they didn’t see me. They are gone, into a shop, doing what two women do, I suppose, when they are together. Though a part of me smiles and thinks their shopping styles and preferences must be very different. I imagine Her Majesty, the Queen of Love and sometimes the Queen of my heart, oohing and ahhing over gowns and jewels, with the satyr there behind her smirking and scowling and inserting the sorts of snarky comments I’d insert if she were any other woman.

And then, suddenly, I have to leave. I can’t be on this ledge any longer. Find me something, Goddess of Wandering. Find me something even more beautiful to look at.

And the Goddess laughs in my heart. More beautiful than the Seelie Queen? she asks. And I reply, Well, find me two things nearly as beautiful and we will put them together. 

Then I am dizzy, and I find myself in a higher place, farther away from the shoppers below, looking in a different direction.

And then, I remember.

And then, I remember.

He is no gypsy, her father said, but lord of free lands all over. And I whistle, and I sing. But for now, only the birds come to me. They are just like me, the crows. Lords of free lands all over. Wanderers, we are.

And if I am so free, the lord of free lands, then why does this verse come back to me when I see her?

lady, I am a figment
I am a blight, I am an ember
one mirror for all memory
that steals what is true
and a voice buried in my heart is crying
I am the risk and purchase of the world
carry me with you

A winter song sung in spring for a summer queen. I am lost.

Style Card:
Clothes: Decadent Courtesan: The Longest Night (red) (from a gacha; available at the Fantasy Faire!)
Skin: 7 Deadly s{K}ins: Damien, Smoked
Hair: No Match: No Date
Ears: Illusions, Seelie Ears (Available at Fantasy Faire!)
Necklace: Otherskin: Wish Necklace (Available at Fantasy Faire!)

Lyrics from Robin Williamson’s “Song of Mabon”.

Spiffy photos taken with the indispensible aid of my LumiPro. Go look at the web page. Yes, I know they’re expensive. If you want to take amazing photos in SL, they’re worth every Linden.

The Journey of a Morning

The Amazing Catwoman:

The Amazing Catwoman:

I can always tell when the Fantasy Faire is coming. There’s something in the air that lets me know. Something pricks in my unusually large ears and lets me know there’s work to be done, places to go, a cause to support, and lives to save.

Probably that sounds dramatic.

Probably that sounds dramatic.

Probably that sounds dramatic. But when I woke up this morning, I was in Faerie, and Faerie always makes me feel a little more dramatic. I don’t know how that  alterego of mine does it, but I guess being a Fae Queen is all right for some. Travelling to the Faire is the journey of a morning, for a wily fae anyway. But of course, it’s also the journey of a lifetime.

In some ways, the Faire is a headache for someone like me.

In some ways, the Faire is a headache for someone like me.

In some ways, the Faire is a headache for someone like me. It’s a headache of love, but it’s a headache. Because I’m walking around making sure all the merchants in my section have paid their tithes, and some of them are downright cranky. I guess they’re the artisans, so they get to choose how they are, but really: it can make a girl a little crazy.

I am The Amazing Catwoman. Some of you might have seen me before: I get to go to exciting places and show off the beauty that’s here all through the realms I walk, and I don’t have to be beautiful myself to do it, which she has to be, all the time. I guess some of you will decide that she has some kind of a split personality and I am only part of her, but I’ll take you a little farther and explain who I am.

I am her player, her puppeteer.

I am her player, her puppeteer.

I’m her player, her puppeteer, and I’m going to be very frank with you. Over the course of the Fantasy Faire, I’m going to be telling you why you should go there and spend lots of money. I’m also going to be showcasing great stuff that Gwyneth wouldn’t wear, or that doesn’t work with her personality. Most of the time I’m going to do this in character, but before you think the person pushing the keys here is just a nutter, I figured I’d tell you who she is and why she’s doing this.

Gwen, the player, is a role-player, writer, musician, dilettante, SL photographer and blogger—and her husband is going to die because he has cancer.

We live in an amazing age, full of technology and wonder, but cancer tears lives apart, and it’s tearing Gwen’s life apart right now. Last year, when she visited the Faire as a punter and got a sense of the scope of what they do here, she knew she had to get involved. Because Gwen can’t cure cancer. But if everybody works together, supports organisations like The American Cancer Society, we all can. And Gwen believes in miracles, believes that maybe if she helps out at the Faire something magical will happen and the next doctor’s appointment will be the one where they say, “We’ve got this new experimental treatment we want you to try…” and it’ll be the one that works. And Gwen’s husband won’t die, and she won’t be a widow at the reasonably young real life age of 49.

There; I’ve told you who I am outside of all this. Over the course of the Faire, I might tell you more.

Channelling Water in Yozakura

Channelling Water in Yozakura

Channeling water in Yozakura, The Amazing Catwoman is wearing her new leathers. This is the Alchemist ensemble from Gauze, without the pauldrons (I’ll show you the pauldrons later!) or the belt (ditto!). I love outfits that can be worn in a number of permutations, and Gauze did such a good job on this one: the detailing is exquisite, and the more she wears these, the more she likes them.

But it's time to get to work now.

But it’s time to get to work now.

It’s time to get to work now, but first I go to my favourite hair store in all the world, Analog Dog, to see if they have something new for Faire that I will like. And they do! The long pigtails are whimsical enough that I can feel like I’m at Faire, yet they keep my hair out of my face so I can be a good watcher.

Today I am watching over Wildehaven Marsh.

Today I am watching over Wildehaven Marsh.

Today I am watching over Wildehaven Marsh, so with magical staff (also part of the Gauze ensemble) in hand and pauldrons and belt put on, I make my way to the pier and keep an eye on the town gate to the harbour: shoplifters, when they are active in the Marsh, often try to escape through the gate and get away via boat. And we cannot, cannot allow that, because all the shoppers must pay their tithe and help us wipe out cancer here at the Faire.

And so I watch, diligently and carefully, and I talk to few people. In the distance, I can see her, going on her endless shopping trip with this or that friend from the Wylds. Right social butterfly she is. But then something makes me smirk. Because sometime in the last quarter hour of my watch, I see him, too: the Gypsy, Davey. With a raven-haired beauty on one side and a ginger tart on the other. Well, well, well. I know she doesn’t get jealous: we fae don’t have that kind of twisted morality where we think we own our lovers, thank the gods. But I’m not sure if either of them knows the other is here. Oh, oh, oh: this will be fun to watch.

And I am good at watching.

And I am good at watching.

And I am good at watching, even when it’s just clouds while taking a break from my duties.

Godspeed, Gypsy Davey. Let’s see if she knows you’re alive when there’s shopping to be done!

Style Cards:

Channelling Water in Yozakura:
Mesh Head: Lelutka
Skin: Glam Affair
Clothes: Gauze, The Alchemist (Available at the Fantasy Faire!)
Hair: Dura
Piercings: Ellabella

But it’s time to get to work now (and subsequent photos)
Hair: Analog Dog, Petula, Dark Browns (Available at the Fantasy Faire!)
Skin: La Petite Morte, Ellen
Clothes: Gauze, The Alchemist (Available at the Fantasy Faire!)
Piercings: Ellabella

Spiffy photos taken with the indispensible aid of my LumiPro. Go look at the web page. Yes, I know they’re expensive. If you want to take amazing photos in SL, they’re worth every Linden.

The Urge for Going

The Gypsy Davey

The Gypsy Davey

The Gypsy Davey: A man can spend too long in Faerie. It begins to work on the senses. Time stops having any meaning. And the call of the Faire, the great Fantasy Faire, is strong. The Fae seasons align, the horses grow restless, and the vardo starts to look like a settled place. Too long in one place is not for my kind.

Then, the restlessness comes.

Then, the restlessness comes.

Then, the restlessness comes. The feeling that just one more day in this magical place will mean that a tree branch grows through the vardo spokes. The horses have had too much fae grass. And I, I have had too much faery mead and too much dancing on the green, and too much wild fiddle music in the night. And though I can never get enough of the attentions of the Seelie Queen (in truth, she is part of why I stay so long when I stay), a voice in my heart says, “It is time.”

Yea, it is time.

Yea, it is time.

Yea, it is time. Time for packing and saddling, time to plot the course, time to box the wares and remind this year’s fortuneteller how to be a better liar. She’s our charlatan; only when the people really need a future telling does she call me away from tinkering and storytelling and selling what I can.

A long journey

A long journey

A long journey it is (anywhere is a long journey from Faerie!), even when you know our Roads and Ways.

But the Faire, the Faire changes places every year: it is a movable feast of chaos and mayhem, and I love it. I love the smells and the sights. And of course, I love the populace, so wide-eyed and willing to part with their gold and their virtue.

So much to explore and see.

So much to explore and see.

So much to explore and see. You must not be precious at the Great Faire, my mother told me. You must not stick to the familiar; you must be willing to explore places where you feel like an outsider, like an unknown.

A break in work, though, a break in exploring, and suddenly you remember Faerie.

A break in work, though, a break in exploring, and suddenly you remember Faerie.

A break in work, though, a break in exploring, and suddenly you remember Faerie. It fades, that longing, I’m told. After a lifetime. The sharp, swift urge to go back there, to taste another glass of fae mead, to lie in the arms of a sweet-voiced Queen who knows what you are, knows who you are, and does not care that you’ve had more lovers than she has years to live. Her clean, white skin. Her gossamer hair. To be enfolded carried away, wrapped in wings.

Oh, but then you cannot bear it any more.

Oh, but then you cannot bear it any more.

Oh, but then you can not bear it any more. And there is a meadow and a village, and a dance going on somewhere in the near distance—you hear the sweet sound of flutes, and you know, you know, you know, that you are once again the Gypsy Davey, the whistler of women, the lips no woman can resist, and so you whistle and you sing til the green woods ring, and you win the heart of a lady. And even if only for one night, you can be content to be away from Faerie.

This is how I will live my days until the Faire is over, ever-exploring, ever-seeking, never finding, and in the end I know what I will do. I will get the urge for going, going. And I will help pack the wagons and prepare the horses, and I will tell the family I do not know where we are going.

But they all know where we are going: Back to Faerie, they will tease. Back to thee Great Seelie Forest and the Queen in the Treehouse. Not yet though: not yet. For now, I will pretend that Faerie is a distant memory and I am ready to move on. I laugh at myself.

I have been too long in Faerie.

Style Cards:

Yea, It is Time; A break in work:
Skin: 
7 Deadly s{K}ins: Damien, Smoked
Hair: No Match: No Date
Clothes: Gypsy Wolf, Tavern Keeper Thomas (Available at Fantasy Faire!)
Ears: Illusions, Seelie Ears (Available at Fantasy Faire!)
Pipe: Black Pearls: Storyteller Pipe (wood)
Horns: Oak and Elm: White Birch Horns (Available at Fantasy Faire!)

A Long Journey:
Skin: Birth: Fang Skin, tanned, maori beard
Clothes: Gauze: The Alchemist (Available at Fantasy Faire!)
Hair: EMOtions: Ron (brown)
Necklace: Otherskin: Wish Necklace (Available at Fantasy Faire!)

So Much to Explore and See:
Skin:
 7 Deadly s{K}ins: GOR Gacha V5
Hair: EMOtions: Ron (brown)
Necklace: Otherskin: Wish Necklace (Available at Fantasy Faire!)
Clothes: PoshTale: Siirist (Available at Fantasy Faire!)
Boots: 22679: Jiki-Tabi Blue Leather

Oh, but then you cannot bear it any more:
Skin: 7 Deadly s{K}ins: Damien, Smoke
Hair: Argrace: Ryo
Necklace: Otherskin: Wish Necklace (Available at Fantasy Faire!)
Clothes: Avatar Bizarre: Goblin King

Spiffy photos taken with the indispensible aid of my LumiPro. Go look at the web page. Yes, I know they’re expensive. If you want to take amazing photos in SL, they’re worth every Linden.