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We just need to give in to our magical origins. When you take a minute to listen, the incantations are whispering in your soul. A Victorian Dollhousing Ceremony is a dream project because it began as a dream, mine. I woke up processing a vivid dream of being shrunken by a wizard who collects tiny art and crafts dollhouses.

My dream life consisted of being handled and chased by these giant fingers in a miniature pine house. The catalyst for my shrinking was that a jealous girl sold me to the wizard to remove me as competition.


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This dream haunted my brain until I made a sonnet about it, the title of this book and a poem published in December by Mojave Heart Review. In the sonnet, A Victorian Dollhousing Ceremony, I began to flesh things out a bit more about the shrunken girl. I knew, for example, she was given a potion that shrunk her.

She was a troubled young woman, an artist, abused and codependent. The Wizard of Oz drawn by L. Frank Baum. I told her about my excitement about this poem, the potential book with Justin and how based on his comment about characters, I felt we were about to write what I was calling a poetry play. Tianna was very intrigued. It is such a powerful project to give victims of sexual assault, ready and willing to speak on their assault, a dignified forum in print to do so. It also required many hours reading of extremely dark, true stories. It required a lot of time and energy that we might devote to writing.

For Tianna, as the publisher it still is. Speaking to1 her about this whimsical project, I could sense how much it spoke to her.

Not just as an editor, publisher but as a writer. Both of us, I think needed a fantasy outlet removed from reality and the confines of normalcy. We needed magic. And when she heard about this, she immediately asked if there were any other characters. Leon Bakst, The Firebird.

Elizabeth Watasin

I had no expectation that Tianna would desire this part. And the part, I admitted, was small but certainly could blossom. I was delighted when she not only accepted but was enthused as me to take on the part that came to be called The Firebird. So now with The Wizard who graciously accepted my offer a few days later and The Doll, we had our cast of characters.

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We decided in our initial talks that weekend that the art our two characters were engaged in was dance. Having established our dance theme, we wrote several poems on our ballet background to establish our characters.

Silly Symphonies - The Skeleton Dance

These poems have been published in journals like Selcouth Station, Constellate Journal and Isacoustic. By the time Justin joined us, we had a basic geography established of the world we were creating both in the realm of the ballet and the dollhouse. Justin took that map and details and shook them in the magical snow globe glittered with fairy dust that is his brain. What settled from this exercise were road maps to another dimension. We both were inspired to respond and open our minds to use imagery in a way that felt, literally, magical.

Their tiny eyes stared from the sides of their heads, and she looked back with longing. Art nearly bumped into young sailors who were consulting their small guidebooks while studying a tank. The aquarium glass had a notice fixed to it, declaring that the huge tank held a giant clam, lobster, and crab, though Art could not perceive of any such animals hiding within the sand and sea grass. Girls in straw hats quickly passed her carrying a pictorial foldout map. She had the sudden desire to purchase a souvenir guide herself, for she felt there was far more that she could learn and discover than by merely viewing exhibits and reading plaques.

Such visitors were so absorbed in where they wanted to go and what they wanted to see, that Art as a supernatural presence hardly registered to their awarenesses. But any who might turn after watching the acrobatic divers or the darting fish stared in either surprise or terror at her. Some hurried away, urging their spouses, friends, or children to follow. Their viewing spaces before the glass filled again with spectators who paid no heed.

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She saw schoolchildren approach and moved to walk to the left side, causing more people to notice her and press back in alarm. Charity school girls, aged six to ten, in their blue dresses, pinafores, and bonnets, walked hand in hand in two rows. Their teacher came to an abrupt stop and paled at the sight of Art. Art looked at their large eyes as they stared up at her and her heart ached. To hold a button meant they were protecting themselves from an omen of death.

She did not look back so as not to alarm them further. As she approached the end of the row of tanks, she saw country folk in their best, holiday dress. They had brought their picnic baskets, and finding ledges and benches to rest upon, sat with their paper- wrapped meat-and-mustard sandwiches and watched the crowd. When spying Art, they chose not to flee, but stared wide-eyed with food in their mouths.

Retreating at the sight of her would mean having to repack all their utensils and provisions. Therefore, they sat still and in amazement, even as she drew near and strolled on. She entered sunlight and the great dome proper. Replica airships, balloons, and other flying contraptions from various British, German, and American manufacturers hung suspended high above her head. Art looked up at the impressively large dirigibles and smiled in wonder.

Shipped from US within 10 to 14 business days. Established seller since Seller Inventory IQ More information about this seller Contact this seller. Never used! This item is printed on demand. Seller Inventory X. Language: English. Brand new Book. Secret Commission agents, Artifice, the artificial ghost, and Jim Dastard, the animated skull, track their murderer to the frozen Thames' Frost Fair, only for Art to discover a deadlier danger-one involving the women she holds dear. And she soon discovers-from her encounters with a madwoman journalist, a mysterious woman in black, and a French prostitute-where her heart lies.

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