A Swath of Stars

  • Linear Location

    A Bit East of Lake Grace, WA, Australia (33°6'13"S 118°36'38"E)



Public Dedication

A formal dedication has not been undertaken, but the feeling of triumph at the end of the installation was unmistakable.

The Writings You Will Find Here

The part of the Kcymaerxthaere stories installed here:

A Swath of Stars

This, what we remember, theWakal Watcher schiffling was (one time at least) was tolt for our word Kcymaerxthaere: the true physicality of what we call a planet and the bent edge form with ∞ – 29 sides.

And together we added to the Behlnajk, the so called whorl of the world, in respect of innocents killed in the Battle of Some Times.

K told me here that no less than a constellation, a conversation was an archipleago of words—spaces and spaces between gave equal and different joy.

Losana, that Cognate word meaning the person you will be with forever, from a phrase meaning to travel in step.

I got my wish: I saw K. younger, but not agaon, I‘m afriad.

It was here at the islands that I heard Eliala-Mei-Ning, she of the voice whose beauty could not be concealed, her first song after the Battle of Some Times.

And it is true that every island can be an Anggroav. So some people believe that every gwome was once an island—with their own laws of time and space. It makes certain crossings very dangerous, and the grwosts—the time guides so very important.

Kirguellin was older than I, but somehow I still thought he would outlive me. He had that force. I wanted to find another place, where he was still young and smiling.

So Seravenne had provision of the most exquisite gnacien meat. We started on our here. She was looking for her husband Satara.

As Seravenne Meliflua saw her losana—Satara—after so long, she realized too late that with all the ywrengs and all the grwosts, they could not touch until they had walked in remote gentle step for far far longer still.

After I left K, crossing gwomes, ywrengs and other time frontiers was simple, but after a while I began to feel my lifetimes tugging apart

Kirguellin was a collector of stories—especially stories of the many gwomes who believed the world and stars had been created with a swath of stones across still waters or even eraleintones: He loved this place, because even when those urembelate stones had eroded by time, the people here rebuilt them, and, like pearls, they got larger and larger—big enough to stand on. The care of the people had made it special place, even after the original Urembelates were long gone.

When Satara and Seravenne touched onenuther by these islands, he was instantly absent again—like after the cataclysm at Faltese so she set off down an old road of the Tehachapi, still used by the People of the Rock. Even so, her intensity so fierce even the wildest dangaroos found themselves giving ground

And K told me some see me as man some as woman some as gnacien some as a being they cannot see, watching from a star

And I found K here, as if I had been here, trying to understand the depth, the richness of Kcymaerxthaere, so as to richly and fully protect it.

Forms from the Archipelago


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