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Showing posts with label eyes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eyes. Show all posts

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Six Sentence Sunday - November 21st

Here's another snippet from my novelette, Celestial Trigon, a free read on my website. http://www.marshaamoore.com

In this scene, Martin, a grand wizard, forces his dragon, Balteazar, to land on the grounds of the double moon celebration. He cannot find his lady. Suspecting she has been apprehended, he's in hot pursuit of her possible captors.

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Balteazar responded to the urgent command and whipped his massive frame around to descend into the central garden clearing. Fire blazed twenty feet from his gaping mouth, scattering those below screaming into the woods. His green scales irridesced a vivid royal blue in the lunar brilliance. He mirrored his master’s anger, a fearsome sight. His eyes glowed red, nostrils flared, and razor sharp scales lifted along his spine to the tip of his powerful tail. Spewing fire, his enormous muscular legs extended down for a quick landing.

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Be sure to check out the other awesome entries at: http://sixsunday.blogspot.com/

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Six Sentence Sunday - November 14th

These six sentences are a sample from my novelette, Celestial Trigon, posted as a free read PDF on my website http://www.marshaamoore.com The main character, Martin, is a grand wizard who encounters this seductive sylph, intent on detaining him.
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She showed no fear to stand before the powerful wizard.
Martin met the gaze of her large, luminous, dark eyes and felt her magic. He encountered sylphs before and knew theirs was no match for his own, but she magnified her magic using the twin celestial powers. 
Against his will, she forced his eyes down, below her finely chiseled face, to trace the curves of her rounded breasts. Her erect nipples tempted him from behind the sheer fabric. She continued to seduce Martin with her magical and feminine wiles, dropping the gauzy bodice down from her bare shoulders, exposing her naked bosom for his view.
Be sure to check out the other awesome entries at: http://sixsunday.blogspot.com/

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Monday, September 13, 2010

The demonic evil eye -- a reason for the creation of eye shadow?

It’s time for another magical Monday post. For this week I’ve chosen to discuss the demonic evil eye. This power is a look, which many believe is capable of causing injury or bad luck for the recipient of the dark magic.

Belief in this superstition dates in recorded history to the cuneiform texts of the Babylonians around 3,000 BC. Interestingly, the ancient Egyptians used eye shadow and lipstick to prevent the evil eye from entering their eyes and mouths. Was that the reason for the origin of these beauty practices?

In other cultures and records, the evil eye is present in Hindu folk beliefs, as well as being referenced in both the Old and New Bible Testaments. It remains a modern superstition in Italy, Central America, and Mexico, known as "Mal de ojo." It was on a cruise port day in Cozumel when I first saw the Nazars, evil eye prevention charms, hanging in markets. At the time, I had no idea of their uses/history. They looked like lovely folk art to me.

Apparently, the evil eye can be cast accidentally or deliberately. In the case of the latter, it is called “overlooking.” This form of witchcraft can cause illness; poverty; injury; loss of love; even death. Symptoms of the illness may include diarrhea and constant crying, usually affecting infants and children, however, adult females can also be affected.

The spell occurs when someone, usually a stranger, admires another’s children, livestock, or possessions, or merely casts a lingering look. Unless precautions are taken right away, the children fall ill, the animals die, possessions are stolen, good luck ends. If the evil eye cannot be stopped, an initiate (often an older village woman) must supply a secret cure.

To be capable of casting an evil eye, a person is usually a stranger with a different eye color than the locals. Or some individuals are born with an evil eye which lays waste to everything they behold.

How might you avoid the evil eye?

The primary defense is to carry an amulet of a frog, horn, fig, or red ribbon. The horn and fig represent a phallus, associated with the Roman phallic god Fascinus. In many Latin American countries, parents today commonly tie red ribbons around their children's wrists or ankles. Probably more socially acceptable than a frog, horn, or fig tied to a child.

The protective Nazar talismans are disks or balls, consisting of concentric blue and white circles (from inside to outside, dark blue, light blue, white, dark blue) symbolizing an evil eye. These are commonly used throughout the Middle East, often on Mediterranean boats and planes. The hamsa hand is a variation of this talisman. Folklore states the staring eyes are supposed to bend the malevolent gaze back to the sorcerer.

If you find yourself caught without an amulet or talisman and in need of protection, the hand gesture of a clenched fist with the thumb thrust between the index and middle fingers is said to work well. Another simple gesture which will protect you, is to make the sign of the cross with your hand and point the index finger and the little finger towards the supposed source of the spell or victim. This was described in the first chapter of Bram Stokers novel Dracula, published in 1897:

When we started, the crowd round the inn door, which had by this time swelled to a considerable size, all made the sign of the cross and pointed two fingers towards me. With some difficulty, I got a fellow passenger to tell me what they meant. He would not answer at first, but on learning that I was English, he explained that it was a charm or guard against the evil eye.

Beware the evil eye!



References: The Encyclopedia of Demons & Demonology, Rosemary Ellen Guiley; Wikipedia, Evil Eye

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

From the sands of Arabia, an update about my novel, Illusions of Intimacy

A quick hello to all reading. I am Gamal, a camel herder here in the village, at least during this wet season. While my boys watch the herd in its feeding corral, I shall spend a few moments seated here upon the woolen carpet of my tent with quill in hand. The author, my creator, asked me to compose a note relating my activities in her novel, Illusions of Intimacy. Please know me by my given name, Wadji. In Arabic it means being of strong emotions and love, like my soul. But, I must depart soon to meet someone, so I'll hasten at my appointed task.

Though a simple nomadic trader, I travel with my wooden locker of treasured volumes, many very old and given to me from my family. Reading helps pass lonely evening hours. Curiously, one book led me to meet the lovely noblewoman, Fareeda. Maybe you saw her – fair with long, golden hair escaping her niqab veil. Word travels fast about foreigners.

Yesterday she chose to bathe in the river and my herd ran upon her, our customary watering location. Since the sun baked us as we crossed the sand to the river, I understood her need for cooling. I yanked back my mares and spoke a dozen apologies. So beautiful, I dared to look upon her face and bosom, even if I'd receive punishment. Deep beyond the lady's beauty, I recalled her face from some memory. Haunting.

At today's trading souk she passed my camel pen, behaving as if she knew me. Her blue topaz eyes commanded me to stare. Minutes later, her servant returned, handing me a note certain to be a charge against my inappropriate attention. But no. Blank. I turned the sheet over, studying it and looking for traces of ink. Then, I gasped. Before my eyes print appeared, as though arising from within the parchment.

How? I scanned every visible detail of the paper. Once the market closed, I rushed here to my tent to seek one particular book from my trunk. Underneath blankets and keepsakes I found it, a black leather volume covered with gilding. I opened it, holding Fareeda's loose parchment alongside in my shaking hand. The papers – same dimensions, hue, weight, and grain. I stepped to the door and lifted the tent flap to gain more light. The same flowing, feminine hand scripted the words. I could not believe. Fareeda and the woman who had written in this journal, the same? How?
“I do remember. Your eyes haunt me. I have something to show you. When the moon is just risen please come to the east tower of Lord Nidal's palace."

So many times I read those pages, wondering why I possessed the book. Probably by some accident. The lady's thoughts always haunted me, drawing me back many evenings. On those nights, my dreams filled with topaz eyes, the very same as Fareeda's.

My heart raced. I flipped backwards and forwards through pages for clues. I found none, only confusion. In the passages, she addressed her lover, Lyvain, separated from her and how she may unite her soul with his for eternity.

The sun is low; I must make haste to the baths to not offend the lady. My pulse at my fingertips makes my pen shake over this page. Please excuse my penmanship. Many questions. Could she be the writer? How does she know me? What does she want from me? Did we know each other in a previous life? Were we lovers then? She is beautiful . . . I am but a lowly camel herder. Not likely . . . but perhaps. I will leave now. A goodnight to you.

                                                                                Your humble servant,
                                                                                                       Wadji

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