Park Lee Taf created one of the most magical of the Kcymaerxthaereal Museums—the Museum of the Bench. Many believe that it was his passionate commitment to the beauty of the experience of benches that enabled the xthaere to reveal to him the deeper mystery of his relationship with Gheme. Next to the beautiful formation we call Rock Mary, learn about this most unusual love.
You can drive up to a gate within several hundred meters of Rock Mary, but you need to contact the Hinton Historical Museum and Parker House at 801 S Broadway St; Hinton, Oklahoma 73047 for the key to the gate. (The phone number is also on the gate. At last report it was: +1 405-542-3181.)
Was accomplished a small loyal band from the Kcymaerxthaereal community. Zack and Katie deserve special mention for the installation work—including camping over night so as to remove the form.
What it Says at the Foot of Rock Mary
Roughly every 744 of our Earth days—a so-called Pejephen Year, Park Lee Taf, best known for founding the Museum of the Bench (near what we call Abilene, pTejas), would begin his periodic Orbit of Trade. It was on this fairly long circuit, more than any of his others, that he made his fortune and collection – and no moments did he treasure more than those here, on one of the few benches he would not collect.
The first time, compelled by the forms of this land, he came upon a remarkable woman named Gheme (zhe-MAY) sitting on a crude, slab-style bench (now gone) at this spot. As they looked in each other’s eyes, at first they had no common language, but soon they laughed, then spoke for hours before parting. A Pejephen Year later, he returned and she was there again, but now a young woman—quite a bit younger than before. The visit after that, she was several years older than when he first saw her. So: always the continuity of true connection, while each year a new age. When she was very old, he treasured her fragile; when she was young, he was circumspect; when they were both of (each other’s) age, they could not speak without touch. They never remarked that he seemed what some consider chronological or that she seemed not. Or that they shared so little time. As the local proverb has it, “Love is a fine fashioned glass, do not look too hard for its craftsman.” It is not clear who finally sat here, never so alone, but a story goes that a wandering grwost found just such a crafted prism upon that simple bench—a note of light, from that one to the other, just in case there would be another time.