Elf Salon ~ featured elf

The Elf Salon spotlights different elves from the Gallery and tells the stories of my encounters with them. It will be updated periodically, so please check back the next time you're in the neighborhood. The Salon is now featuring:

Shadow Seeker

Shadowseeker

"There are so many shadows here!"

I catch first glimpse out of the corner of my eyes. She is outside, looking in through the garden window. There is a flash of light, a swirl of color, but when I look directly at the window, she is gone.

I look away, focus on something else, and there she is again — just on the edge of my vision. Without meaning to, I turn toward the flash of color and light, only to find it gone again.

Slowly I stand and stretch, carefully not looking out the window. Trying to appear casual, I cross the room, easing out of sight of the window and very cautiously — as quietly as possible — open the door into the garden.

I slip into the garden, leaving the door open behind me, moving as slowly and carefully as I can. I hate to think of it as sneaking, but I am making a special effort to move silently, trying not to rustle any leaves or stir the bushes as I make my way toward the basement window.

There — I can see her. From the back she looks like several streamers of colored light spreading out in all directions, flowing like liquid or floating on the air like tatters of translucent colored gossamer. Her form is implied rather than defined; definitely not solid. I can see the window through her!

She turns, sensing my presence behind her. I hold very still, more than half expecting her to disappear instantly. She is billowing clouds of color against the darker glass of the window behind her; her face looks like it is painted in oil and sunlight swirling upon water.

The streams of colored light about her swim frantically, vibrating with panic. Obviously she does not wish to be seen.

I back up a bit, speaking softly and soothingly, hoping to reassure. Her oscillation of fear intensifies. She is stillness in motion, like a hovering hummingbird in the air between me and the window. She appears flattened against the window so that her features are backlit by the light from my studio, reminding me of a transparency against the glass of a photocopier.

Is it my nearness or my attention that frightens her so? She behaves as though she is trapped, and I sense her frenzied desire to escape.

She doesnít appear to respond to reassurances or questions, but there is an explosion of light in my mind, behind my eyes, conveying her distress. I donít know whether she is deliberately trying to communicate or only leaking information in her panic.

She is not supposed to be here in this solid world. This visit is highly unsanctioned; interaction between her world and mine is dangerous for her. She is not afraid of me so much as some unspecified danger I donít quite understand.

Her usual vibration is much higher, much faster than ours. The density of this world is alien, compelling, fascinating and frightening to her.

Suddenly one fact clarifies in my mind. Like Amethyst, the little muse, she doesnít really function as an individual, but as part of the consciousness of her particular spectrum of light. As I focus on that, something else becomes clear — the reason for her fascination and terror.

There are so many shadows here! Her world is made up mostly of light. Ours is a realm of shadow — formed by the constant interplay between light and darkness. So many possibilities. She is drawn by that as to a mecca of creativity, moth to flame. It is what terrifies her so.

I feel a rush of sympathy for her. All at once I realize that at this moment, she is indeed trapped. And she is in danger! I may mean her no harm, but I am blocking her access to the light that is her home, perhaps her very existence. She is caught in my shadow!

Carefully I back away, and watch her flood into the sunlight, merging into it, disappearing into light.