Category Archives: Rose Heaven^^

August 9, 2025 · 9:18 pm

00470512

Everyone Says “Hi” 24 x 24 on panel.

A painting inspired by the David Bowie song and part of the PBJ show with Jay Jacobs, Feb 2016.

It was weird, as I was painting this I couldn’t get any of the characters to smile. Later I found out that Bowie had passed away that day.

Here is a link to the song. https://youtu.be/um05lJzXD0w

—–

Just in his own little island, Jeffrey Phillips remained happy, clutching his Philip Linden doll to his partially bare bosom and remembering his connection with another Phillip named Jeffries, his name kind of reversed or where it came from. White was his world; pure; removed of color and complexity and foldouty nature. But all around this everyone was sad and unable to smile. Jeffrey knew something had to change. The Real World must intrude on this rosy environment. Again.

“INSERT THE THORN,” a voice boomed up in the air somewhere. *sliiiidee*

Ahh: there it is, brown instead of white like all the rest. A sticking point as it were, an impasse.

—–

And just like that Shelley was banned not only from that “new” sim but the kingdom/queendom as a whole. Good to know how they feel about her. Like another Brown, Molly this time, an unsinkable force to reckon with, however. I must MAKE SPACE for her whims and fancies while remaining active in this Our Second Lyfe. But not there obviously.

So Rose Heaven is no more for me. And David Bowie remains dead.

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December 5, 2021 · 9:41 am

sideways observer (23 23 23 )

—–

“We must change your name from Axis-Windmill,” she spoke from the side, also observing. But me in this case. A 10 now instead of a 9. Good. We return to Squared Root City, she urged. No need to invoke karma in this place again. No need to even mention the name again. The Princess has spoken.

—–

So I go to another 23 23 — but not w/ a 3rd 23 — in a very different sim, but it’s the wrong time (again). Let’s take W.’s suggestion…

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February 3, 2021 · 7:42 am

The Land of Blue and Purple (final?)

In teleporting around Thornwood tonight, I realized that the foxes Muff and Birmingham, last seen in a NWES City wishing store, were getting along better, which means everything was more in balance in Our Second Lyfe and beyond.

The Diagonal was okay now, but I had no place there. Or did I? No, no, if I open up that can of worms, then karma will come into play again and I’ll have to dig deeper into Rose Heaven history — make it up, in essence, which I’m not sure if the locals, as a whole, would enjoy. The Mist represents a barrier. I have to have cooperation to continue. And I’ve decided the cooperation should come to me instead of visa versa. It’s something I’ve learned. Don’t draw attention to yourself.


23, 23, 23

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January 24, 2021 · 9:49 am

mates

“One of us will have to go, twin of mine. And *you* are the one sitting sideways. I think it’s you.”

The Wendy who was sitting sideways to the observing camera spoke. “Don’t cross me. You can’t cross me.”

“This is *not* a Jesus situation. Just because we *originally* were in a 0316 post.”

“Before the user Our God realized the mistake. Another mighty cock-up!”

“… is our Lord,” non-sideways sitting Wendy tacked on. But they both were in different ways. “Paper?” one uttered.

“Scissors,” answered the other. She was the one.

On the sealed evergreen island in the middle of snow snow snow, Barry De Boy waited.

And then nodded off.

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January 9, 2021 · 10:36 pm

the path veers away from The Diagonal here

I sat at the Dread Wolf statue. 225, 225. Right on it. I tried not to be scared by the wolves. Luckily the black one was furthest away. Black Dog… reminding me of The Crossroads and my decision long long ago. Tully: I recall.

The Fire Tree, Wonder Years lost. Ignition. The moon is made of cheese.

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January 9, 2021 · 10:36 pm

00240211

“I was on the Diagonal next to the Not Quite Gazebo, named so because it wasn’t (quite on the Diagonal). The moon was made of cheese. I try to transfer to the tower which I *know* is on the Diagonal but can’t quite reach the center (Diagonal). Instead: on one of the edge seats. The moon is not made of cheese. I wake up, still looking from the point of the Not Quite.”

“And then the lane,” spoke [delete name]. “Cherry Lane.”

“No, that was something different. In the land of Hana Lei.”

“Which is a catch all name for locations that you don’t want to list out.” Silence for a second, as if Jeffrie Phillips was checking this fact (he was). “Yes… but no. I mean, it wasn’t Cherry Lane on the Diagonal. Instead a path through a clearly haunted or haunting woods filled with wolves, especially at the bend where the path or trail leaves the Diagonal. That was before the Not Quite Gazebo. I wasn’t Peet Archer. I wasn’t wearing the tuxedo to indicate I was Young Kane who was never called that (strangely).”

“Go on.”

“I was…”

“Blue Thorn?” guessed [delete name].

“I can’t recall,” responded Jeffrie Phillips, thinking hard. He was pounding a fist into his skull three times. Then three more. He recalled. “Niagara. Peet Archer was at the top. I put him there. I was…” Again a stall. The 1898 room was powerful that way — squelched speech. He wondered again who was beside him in that room while he dreamed. Someone from Hana Lei perhaps.

“Go on, Jeffrie. Do you need some water? Do you want to continued another night? We can wake up at any time. I clap my hands three times, and then three more.” He clapped his hands three times and then three more.

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January 4, 2021 · 3:20 pm

Great White North

Hunter symbolically caged up on his wee island, ready to be let loose upon the world again. “Where’s that castle. where’s that castle, where’s that castle?” he yelps anxiously while leaking within, so much so that his front leaning feet are a bit submerged in water now. “2 feet, 2 feet, 2 feet!” he continued, more anxious than ever to leave this wet spot.

—–

Tech Support: “Have you tried turning it off and on again.”

“Oh… there it goes. Now… about installing Adobe Photoshop…”

—–

This tie smells so GOOD. I still can’t believe there’s 5 people inside there. And now… the bowtie. That’s 3 more!”

“Right,” answers Jeffrie Phillips to his on again off again girlfriend and sometimes wife Audrey, back for a picture or 3. “Best of both words, Pot-D and Pan-Z. The 3 to 5 ratio indicates a female to male polarity, but the, er, *spirits* within can be of either male or female persuation. It’s more an energy thing. An abstract concept.”

“Sooo fascinating.” Audrey looks around the area, sees only the gnome continuing to get tech advice from the owl. They seem engrossed in what they’re doing. She sneaks a kiss, hoping for more. A kiss on the tie, like she’s smooching 6 instead of just the one. And then she moves up to the bowtie (*smack*). 9 now! And then to her true and real lover’s lips even farther north, just over the edge (of the collar). She keeps pecking and pecking while talking about Canada. “If we move to Picturetown (*smooch*), we can take all of them (*smack*) with us and not have to worry (*kiss*) about the coming swamp monster.”

“I’m not scared of water monsters,” replied Jeffrie Phillips, wondering which direction Murdoch’s castle was from where they sat. But then he remembered all he had to do was follow the yelps of (quickly submerging?) Hunter nearby.

Hunter will save them. Hunter will save us all. He was trained for this moment in history. If he can just get off that wee island of his.

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January 4, 2021 · 7:35 am

Unhappy

It all started again with the formation of Thornwood. Thornwood exists: I exist, the Rose be damned. But that was the problem. I couldn’t find the roses again because of the thorns. This was an existential dilemma. Rosehaven also did not exist now. Instead: Rose Heaven. Witch Hazel *must* be suppressed (!). She could destroy this queendom-kingdom with a single, steely glance of those evil, dead white eyes. Powerful.

I clutch my Philip Linden doll even tighter. I miss my daddy, *sigh*.

“Don’t you think,” I can hear Tessa in my head (if not in reality, at least currently), “that the truth lies in the ruined village now partially in Thornwood?” I realized this was just me reflecting back to me, but it helped.

The background sound of static. I knew I was back in Room 1898, sleeping in that oh so comfy bed of ours. Tilists — always with the static at night. I wake up (let’s say). Who is beside me? Charlene the Punk? Probably not — (she was) several girls ago. Probably that girl Gigi who hangs around the bar all the time. Just like me. Whatever’s handy at the moment. But I mustn’t wake up, must dream a little longer. I unclutch the doll pillow and turn its face toward me. “What would Philip Linden do?” I ask it. Slot Mountain! came the answer in my own enlarged skull.  I hadn’t thought of that slitted peak and attached haunted castle in a long time. Not since…

Time is all mixed up for me now. I know I’m dreaming but it’s even worse than that, because when I wake up, it will still be all wonky, like Willa. Hey, I could use that (expression) in my memoirs: Wonky like Willa. Slip in some more comments about chocolate and sweets in general to balance things out. Maybe delete that section about arsenic; too much of a downer, like the barbiturate section I eliminated previously. But here I am, wasting precious dream time on my memoir planning. I try to see who is in the bed with me. I’m clutching my Philip doll again, still in the dream.

Behind me, the square piece of land representing Illyria slides up and Thornwood appears in the gap, but brown instead of white like the others. Winter hasn’t come yet, at least not here in the yarn shop. Yarn Shop! Rosehaven? How did I get here?

Wormholes. Must — control — the — wormholes.

I can’t see Green at all now.

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January 4, 2021 · 7:34 am

end of the tale

“I was still just a young guy at the time. Young Kane young guy.”

“They called you Kane?” Tessa tried to clarify about Jeffrie Phillips’ past. He’d regained the ability to talk and she wanted to try to get as much info as possible out of him before a potential recurrence.

“They called me many names. Sometimes Kane, sometimes Old Kane, even though I wasn’t — as stated — and then…”

“Young Kane?” Tessa ventured.

“No, never that. Odd in retrospect. Then Kane yielded to Spankey yielded to Michael yielded to Clark yielded to Woody. It was a whole county full of names, really. And, yes, now I recall about the Kane name. It was short for Hurricane. My actual name was Rainey, and I had a stormy personality.”

Tessa looked at her watch, felt the back of her tired neck. “We better get to the Borderlands again.”

“Right, so I was standing there, in my tuxedo which I always wore in my younger days, clutching my Philip doll — as always, or as usual.”

“We might get into that later on. About the trail…”

“Bunny trail, yes. So I saw one carrot, and the one carrot led to the next carrot led to the next carrot… kind of like the trail of my names from the past.”

“You said something about the Blue Rose,” Tessa said, trying to speed things up. “About *that* particular name.”

“The carrots led right by them. I was on my way.”

“To… where?”

“The Bunny Trail leads…” He suddenly ground to a halt. Someone was preventing him from speaking further about this subject!

He remembered, but he couldn’t say.

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January 3, 2021 · 8:32 am

G G Club

“I don’t know. I guess I tired of sitting on the Thorn Throne all day. I combined the name into Thron, without the ‘e’, and had a chuckle. I became bored again.

I don’t know. I guess I started some wars because I was bored, sorry.”

“Wars that are still going on *now*,” Tessa said to his side.

“Yeah, suppose. I said I was sorry.”

“How did you become *Ray*, Blue Rose Thorn?”

“Just Thorn. I chucked the Rose with the throne. I don’t know.”

“Stop *saying* that.”

“I  — I guess, I suppose, I *realize* — now — it started in Tennessee in that mine. It was my mine. The Blue Rose. I was royal blue at the time.”

“So like now.”

“Suppose.”

—–

Later:

“He’s linked to Winterfell all right. The past of Rose Heaven…”

“… when it and Caledonia to the south were linked.”

“Links all around.”

“Golf?”

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