MYTHIC CITY

Stroke of Midnight in Mythic Ottawa

2011-06-02T18:00:00.000-07:00

This magic bell was taken from the ruins of the clock tower destroyed by fire on February 3rd, 1916 ...

"The fire raged fiercely for hours. The main Tower was not touched until about 11 PM, and one of the most pathetic incidents of the night, which moved the spectators, was the striking of the midnight hour by the old tower clock. There seemed almost a human touch as its familiar tones boomed out from the mass of flames."

- From the 1916 Report of the Deputy Minister of Public Works

In Pursuit of a Mythic City

2010-12-09T13:51:00.000-08:00

Great little story by Chris Cobb, who moves from San Francisco to NYC in pursuit of a "mythic city" that may no longer exist (if it ever did at all), and winds up back in the mythic city where he started from - San Francisco!

"You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave - Hotel California"

The Pretty, Pretty City

2010-11-14T20:28:00.000-08:00

by Robert Rorabeck
Now the city has a studded nose,
Because the city is so pretty, and the city knows:
The city, she almost fooled me underneath the
Chicken sky - The city is so pretty,
But the city lie:
I loved the city and all its vermilion moods and ice-creams,
With parks and busses and city airplanes
And city rides - City coffins and city dies;
And I watched the city get drunk and turn around
And raise its monuments and party down;
And I sat upon one of her benches in a speculating mood,
And wondered if the city was so pretty,
Why was she so rude: The vulgar nebulas of the city’s
Eyes, the narcissisms of its displays:
There are so many well suited boys better than I out walking
In their sunny city days:
And I realized, the city didn’t love me,
The city plays and paws and eats up little boys such as
Me - She said she loves her little poet boys, such as me,
But the sweet, sweet city lies,
Because the city is so pretty, studded nosed and stunning eyed,
But she uses her autumn facades to blind the autumn chicken skies -
The pretty, pretty city has me hypnotized,
But the pretty, pretty city lies.

Your Mythic City

2010-11-13T09:53:00.000-08:00

We all have one. We all have a mythic city. One that calls us. One that whispers to us in our sleep. The mythic city is a stage set/movie backdrop where our dreams play out every night.

There's Calvino's Armilla, Poe's El Dorado, and the Goblin City of Labyrinth, “Where everything seems possible and nothing is what it seems.” There's the Caras Galadhon of Tolkien, Schlieman's Troy, George Lucas' Bestine....

Send me your mythic city - in whatever form you're inspired to create: art, video, poetry, literature, photos, music, whatever you like - and I will post it here lisafcole@gmail.com.

Journey to Shambala

2010-11-11T11:11:00.000-08:00

According to legend, Shambala is one of 14 etheric cities that exist on Earth. These cities are neither here nor there, but exist between the worlds, in a higher dimension than what many are able to see. This is where angels, archangels, ascended masters, and other "heavenly beings" are said to make their home.

The name Shambala comes to us from the ancient language of Sanskrit, and it means "pure land". Tibetans say this mythic city is hidden somewhere within Inner Asia. To them, it is a fantastic city that exists in the realm of of the visionary, and whose citizens are enlightened - living in peace and harmony with each other and their world.

Here is what the Dalai Lama has said about Shambala:

"Although those with special affiliation may actually be able to go there through their karmic connection, nevertheless it is not a physical place that we can actually find. We can only say that it is a pure land, a pure land in the human realm. And unless one has the merit and the actual karmic association, one cannot actually arrive there."

However, Rita, Oliver Shanti, and Friends have recently made the journey to Shambala much more possible with this video - best viewed on a full screen with the sound turned up. Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride!

An intricate metropolis...

2010-11-09T08:37:00.000-08:00

"Standing on my sleeve was an intricate metropolis, a science fiction city of glittering spires and emerald skyscrapers in which I could almost see the movements of an infinitesimal transport grid."

- Daniel Pinchbeck, 2012: The Return of Quetzalcoatl

Lost City of Atlantis - made from plastic bottles?

2010-11-07T11:11:00.000-08:00

Artist Gayle Chong Kwong created this fantastic lost city from plastic bottles and packaging collected from her London neighbours.

Darth Fiddler's Mythic City

2010-10-31T03:13:00.000-07:00

Darth Fiddler has been performing on the streets of Victoria BC for nearly eight years, and has become an iconic figure of the city's downtown. He is announced on cruise ships as they arrive from San Francisco and Alaska. He is featured in guided tours, local magazines and radio shows. People make pilgrimages to Victoria just to see him. Visitors' posts on his Facebook page tell him that he was the highlight of their trip.

Darth Fiddler takes Hatley Castle, Victoria BC

One need only Google "Darth Fiddler" to find countless images of this masked character - a twirling black dervish, cape flying, violin shining - on the Web. With the looming architecture of the BC Legislative Buildings, Empress Hotel, and Hatley Castle often serving as his backdrop, he seems to belong in this city. Even though he is said to travel, and photos of him in other places do appear from time to time, none fit quite as well as Victoria.

Darth Fiddler at Hatley Castle

On this auspicious occasion of Halloween 2010, we thought it a most appropriate time to catch up with Victoria's most mythic figure to ask a burning question:

"What's your favourite mythic city?"

"Micropolis," he answers immediately. "Have you heard of the Micronauts?"

"No."

"They were from the mid 70's, and came in the form of toys and Marvel comic book characters spawned by a sci-fi generation. The Micronauts were sub-atomic races that lived in the smallest cities of the universe. Their leader was Time Traveler who once even led them to save our world. I think there was a Micronaut revival recently with a movie that bombed, but nothing beats the toys of the 70's.

"Micropolis Mega City was the Micronauts' legendary capital, and there was this gigantic model with bubble domes and a crane that you could put together. I think it had almost 600 pieces, with towers and all these modules you had to balance precariously - they weren't attached. The best thing about this city was that all the myths and stories - even the design, itself - came from your own imagination.

"Wow, you've got me thinking about the Micronauts now. I haven't thought of them in years! I'd lost all interest in them after The Empire Strikes Back came out."

Another great Interview with Darth Fiddler here.

Golden City

2010-10-27T07:20:00.000-07:00

The "Golden City" conjures up a vast array of images and inspiration for people. For many, it is one of the etheric cities that exist just beyond the reach of the average human, in a reality separate from ours - but only a dream away. Some say this city hovers over the Sahara desert; others say it's just outside of Chennai, India. Some say it is none other than El Dorado, the elusive city of gold in the Amazon; and still others say it is Paititi, the lost city of the Inca.

But for Aexion, an imaginative graphic artist and program designer who lives in Spain, the Golden City is a mechanical city of fractal geometries and epic proportions, operated by golden automatons.

Golden City by Aexion

Aexion has created a whole series of fractal cities and plans to design Atlantis, Asgard, and Avalon in the near future. We thank him for his contribution and look forward to featuring more of his amazing work in the coming months!

More fractal art by Aexion.

Myths

2010-10-20T10:21:00.000-07:00

"Myths are public dreams, dreams are private myths."

-Joseph Campbell

Constellations of Earth - City Lights from Space

2010-10-19T06:19:00.000-07:00

Corner

2010-10-18T15:24:00.000-07:00

Still round the corner there may wait,
A new road or a secret gate.

J.R.R. Tolkien

city of doors & windows

2010-10-17T17:07:00.000-07:00

In this city, all doors open backwards, all windows open inwards, and there are no walls, no ceilings, no floors. There are only windows and doors. If you open this door, you will go back in time; if you open that door, you will travel into the future. And if you look in a window, any window, you're suddenly looking out that very same window. And if you're looking out that very same window, you are suddenly on the outside, looking in.

Random Acts of Graffiti

2010-10-16T07:12:00.000-07:00

Random acts of graffiti, scattered in fragments across the city, help piece together the puzzle, the big picture, the underlying mythology of a particular time and place.

This was contributed by Randy McKenna, captured on his phone camera in Victoria, BC. He calls it "Desperate Message."

How does a city speak?

2010-10-16T05:38:00.000-07:00

by Lisa Cole

on a clear night between
sirens - chant of ancestors
under the bridge on the
street in the alleyway

now that civilization has
settled here, now that
civilization has sprawled
the landscape's language twists
and turns with it - but its heart never
changes, its wild savage
heart is always the
same

the city speaks in secret
grids and sacred
alignments

it speaks in Babel speaks in
carnival speaks in
tongues

articulates in towering alphabets
festive squares traffic circles broken
glass and the eloquence of
architecture

it sings with a rat's voice in
sublingual tunnels, whispers in
shadow-shapes on the wailing
wall

crow's voice at first light
music of busker, movement of
mime - cracks in the sidewalk
scream of graffiti and the
yawning red maw of the
cinema

Los Angeles

2010-10-15T07:57:00.000-07:00

"Los Angeles is a city looking for a ritual to join its fragments"

Jim Morrison

Your Mythic City

2010-10-14T16:53:00.000-07:00

We all have one. We all have a mythic city. One that calls us. One that whispers to us in our sleep. The mythic city is a stage set/movie backdrop where our dreams play out every night.

There's Calvino's Armilla, Poe's El Dorado, and the Goblin City of Labyrinth, “Where everything seems possible and nothing is what it seems.” There's the Caras Galadhon of Tolkien, Schlieman's Troy, George Lucas' Bestine....

Send me your mythic city - in whatever form you're inspired to create: art, media, poetry, literature, photos, music, whatever you like - and I will post it here lisafcole@gmail.com.

In Rome

2010-10-13T12:51:00.000-07:00

In Rome you long for the country; in the country - oh inconstant! - you praise the distant city to the stars.

Horace, Satires

Eco Cities

2010-09-09T20:24:00.000-07:00

Vegetal City by utopist Luc Schuiten

An eco-conscious architect dreams of modern cities that exist in harmony with nature.

Atlantis found through Google Earth?

2010-08-04T02:02:00.000-07:00

Find the story here.

Cities by Talking Heads

2010-07-01T11:39:00.000-07:00

Think of London, a small city

It's dark, dark in the daytime
The people sleep, sleep in the daytime
If they want to, if they want to

CHORUS

I'm checking them out
I'm checking them out
I got it figured out
I got it figured out
There's good points and bad points
Find a city
Find myself a city to live in.

There are a lot of rich people in Birmingham
A lot of ghosts in a lot of houses
Look over there!...A dry ice factory
A good place to get some thinking done

Down el Paso way things get pretty spread out
People got no idea where in the world they are
They go up north and come back south
Still got no idea where in the world they are.
Did I forget to mention, to mention Memphis
Home of Elvis and the ancient greeks
Do I smell? I smell home cooking
It's only the river, it's only the river.

Beijing's Underground City

2010-06-03T11:04:00.000-07:00

A vast subterranean city tunneled beneath Beijing during the Cold War era.

Impossible City

2010-05-02T10:36:00.000-07:00

A city built on sand. Las Vegas is miraculous enough, but how can Dubai exist?

Language is a City

2010-04-28T02:39:00.000-07:00

"Language is a city to the building of which every human being brought a stone."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Frisco

2010-04-21T16:44:00.000-07:00

"It is an odd thing, but every one who disappears is said to be seen in San Francisco. It must be a delightful city, and possess all the attractions of the next world."

-Oscar Wilde

Sky City

2010-04-19T10:25:00.000-07:00

Part one of a documentary on a "vertical city" proposed by Tokyo architects as a solution for the city's growing lack of living space.

city in the sky

2010-04-16T04:40:00.000-07:00

who knows if the moon's
a balloon, coming out of a keen city
in the sky - filled with pretty people?

ee cummings

The Heavenly City of Yang Yongliang

2010-04-14T16:05:00.000-07:00

Shanghai artist Yang Yongliang captivates the imagination with his series Heavenly City. His vision of the mythic city ascends out of the dust of our postmodern world into something at once solid and ethereal - something fantastic, yet startlingly familiar.

A city just beyond our grasp, suspended somewhere between our past and future.

Printed on panoramic scrolls, the works consist of tiny photographs pieced together into one giant image. Yongliang combines ancient Chinese shui mo painting and calligraphy techniques with digital photography, twisting them into something fresh and breathtaking, eye-provoking and dream-inspiring.

He marries concrete with clouds, the industrial with the magical.

Heavenly City, by Yang Yongliang: Skyscraper

Shining City

2010-04-13T13:11:00.000-07:00

"With our eyes fixed on the future, but recognizing the realities of today, we will achieve our destiny to be as a shining city on a hill for all mankind to see."

-Ronald Reagan

Living Buildings

2010-04-05T16:40:00.000-07:00

3D Video Mapping projection - a new art form that brings buildings to life.

Indian Rocks & the Legendary Sulphur Spring

2010-03-12T07:03:00.000-08:00

Nope, not a mythic city - but close. This one's a mythic town.

I was recently invited to a reunion in Florida. My family hadn't been together since my dad's funeral in 2000. My sister rented a beach house in Indian Rocks and invited us -8 in all - to come for a week. Even though it meant flying from one side of the continent to the other, I said count me in.

Indian Rocks is on the West Coast of Florida, Gulf side, about a 10-minute drive from St. Petersburg. I found the name intriguing, smelled a story there. I looked it up and indeed there was - a smelly story, at that.

Once upon a time, an old Indian Chief fell ill. The Medicine Man knew he was not long for this world and there was one last resort. He had heard of a magical spring in the land of the setting sun. So he, and an expedition of braves carrying the Chief, set out to find it.

After a long and arduous journey, they discovered the spring on an island of white sand. The Chief was restored to health after bathing in the waters and drinking their rich minerals. After that, the tribe returned to the spring every year.

I learned that a sulphur spring did exist in the Indian Rocks area. It was held sacred by the Timuguan Indians who visited regularly, long ago. It was encircled by large limestone rocks.

As the story goes, when settlers saw them arriving, they would say: "The Indians are on their way over to the rocks."

When I arrived (and after some family time), I set out to find the exact location of the spring, to see if it was still there. I found my way to the Indian Rocks Historical Society , where I met local historian Jan Kunzi. She told me the spring was purported to be in the Kolb Park area, across the street from the Town Hall. It was about a 45-minute hike from our rental, but I could walk most of it on the beach, so I didn't mind. It was easy enough to find.

Jan had told me the spring had been capped and sealed years ago due to the "foul sulphur smell".

"Do you know where it was, exactly?"

"Under about third base on the baseball diamond."

"Too bad they capped it," I said. It was believed to have had healing properties - and had given the place its name, after all.

"I have smelled sulphur water," she replied. "And who knows about the healing properties anyway? It was just a legend."

Edgar Allan Poe

2010-03-11T06:34:00.000-08:00

El Dorado

Gaily bedight, A gallant night
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of El Dorado.

But he grew old --
This knight so bold --
And -- o'er his heart a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like El Dorado.

And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow --
"Shadow," said he,
"Where can it be --
This land of El Dorado?"

"Over the Mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,"
The shade replied --
"If you seek for El Dorado."

Divine Nature, Human Art

2010-03-09T06:33:00.000-08:00

Divine Nature gave the fields,
human art built the cities.

Marcus Terentius Varro, De Re Rustica

your Mythic City

2010-03-07T16:28:00.000-08:00

We all have one. We all have a mythic city. One that calls us. One that whispers to us in our sleep. The mythic city is a stage set/movie backdrop where our dreams play out every night.

There's Calvino's Armilla, Poe's El Dorado, and the Goblin City of Labyrinth: “Where everything seems possible and nothing is what it seems.” There's the Caras Galadhon of Tolkien, Schlieman's Troy, George Lucas' Bestine....

Send me your mythic city - in whatever form you're inspired to create: art, media, poetry, literature, photos of found objects, whatever you like - and I will post it here lisafcole@gmail.com

The Emerald City

2010-03-07T05:30:00.000-08:00

Mythic Victoria: a Tale of Two Castles Part 2

2010-03-05T03:56:00.000-08:00

(If you missed part one of this story, be sure to read Mythic Victoria: a Tale of Two Castles Part 1 - first)

HATLEY CASTLE

In some ways, Hatley Castle is almost like an 'offspring' of Craigdarroch, but in others, it is truly an original. The construction of the castle was completed in 1908, the very year that James Dunsmuir's mother, Joan, passed on.

James had never been to Craigdarroch Castle due to an ongoing dispute with his mother. His father, Robert, had left his entire estate to her. This came as a great shock to James and his brother Alex, for Robert had made verbal promises of inheritance to each of them. Both boys had grown up working in all the stages of the mining process. James, the elder of the two, had risen in the ranks to a managerial position. And now, after all their years of hard work, the two brothers were left with scant financial security.

After a seven-year negotiation period, Joan finally granted them title to the San Francisco Company. James and Alex then proposed to purchase the Wellington Colliery, but it took her another three years to concur. After Alex's death, a great and infamous court battle ensued between Joan and James over Alex's Will. James, Premier of British Columbia at the time, was crushed by the publicity, including a headline that appeared in the New York Times that read: "Premier sued by his Mother."

Bearing this in mind, it's no wonder that James eventually retreated from public life and sold off all businesses with which his family name was associated. He turned his attention to building Hatley Castle and the surrounding gardens - this was to be a place of opulence, leisure, and, with its sprawling 650 acres (at the time the land was purchased), a welcome sanctuary from the outside world.

"Money doesn't matter," James Dunsmuir told his architect. "Just build what I want."

Arriving at the castle parking lot, I realize that I'm standing on the site of the original Hatley House that burned down years before James purchased the property. Above me, the castle rises into the sky. I turn towards the water and see two swans milling around Esquimalt Lagoon. Beyond them, the Olympic Mountains stand guard.

My tour guide welcomes me inside and leads me to the Grand Hall, a reception room very similar to the one at Craigdarroch Castle, but with its own unique style. There is that beautiful golden oak again, imported from England. This is an Edwardian Home with a renaissance feel to it. In the center of the Grand Hall is a massive sandstone fireplace, reminiscent of Craigdarroch Castle as well. These impressive fireplaces were meant purely for show as both castles had central heating.

My guide tells me that when James and Laura sat down with architect Samuel Maclure to design their home, they each described different tastes. Therefore, one side of the castle's main floor was created for Laura and the other for James. Laura enjoyed having parties and was very much a socialite. Her needs are reflected in the domestic and public offerings seen on first floor. James, on the other hand, needed his solitude and called for more private rooms.

Each room on the first floor is made from a different kind of imported wood, giving each its own particular 'flavour'. The wood gets more luxurious as one proceeds. First, we go to Laura's side of the main floor. Here we find the Butler's Antechamber, where he would stand and direct bustling servant traffic during festive occasions. There are two doorways here - creating both a transition zone for the servants and also a sort of buffer zone - so the guests wouldn't be able to see all the activity happening behind the scenes.

The Dining Room and Drawing Room are also on this side of the main floor. The Drawing Room, where the ladies withdrew after dinner, is very spacious. The front doors lead out to a terrace large enough to hold a thousand guests. The room is open concept so that furniture could be arranged according to the particular occasion.

The only stationary piece of furniture, my guide tells me, was a Steinway piano. "The very same piano," he says, "that you would have seen in the Drawing Room at Craigdarroch Castle."

After Laura died, the estate was liquidated, and the piano was sold at a public auction for $500. It was later donated to the Victoria Conservatory who then sold it to Craigdarroch Castle as a fund raiser, for $50, 000. Today it's worth more than a quarter of a million.

One day, it is hoped, it may be returned to Hatley castle.

Next is the Library, and although the atmosphere in here is warm and almost welcoming, it's apparent that we're already starting to enter James' domain of the main floor. The room is smaller than the preceding ones and there is a slightly 'closeted' feel to it. It has woodland and hunting themes on the walls and fireplace.

James' Study became the Commandant's Office during the castle's military college days and had been an extremely private area for about fifty years. My guide tells me that he's shown cadets this room and they were visibly shaken, knowing that if they had seen the inside of this office it meant they were getting kicked out of school. The study is the fulcrum of James' particular interests. And, as with Joan's Sitting Room at Craigdarroch, I certainly get the feeling that he'd spent a great deal of time in here.

On the far right of the castle is James' Private Entrance, where there's a built-in "escape route." When he would arrive home from yachting, hunting, or fishing, he could go down the little hall to see if Laura was entertaining. If she was, he could turn around and go right back out again. The door handle is four inches higher than all others in the building as an indicator that no one else was allowed to use this door.

I ask the inevitable question: "Is the castle haunted?"

"Some people seem to think so. The BC SPIRITS Society was here in October to investigate with their 'ghost-hunting' equipment."

"And?"

"You'll have to read their report. I do recommend that you visit the Museum downstairs and read some of the archives. You'll find some interesting stories down there."

I venture down the stairs to the basement. Even though the Museum is well-lit and there's a bustling gift shop down the hall, I find it spooky here. I stop at a showcase where a small journal is on display. I read the description over it and find the perfect ghost story.

James Dunsmuir's son, James Jr., nicknamed "Boy", was a soldier in WWI. He was transferring to England on The Lusitania when it was hit by a torpedo. His body was never recovered, but his backpack washed up on the shores of Spain and was eventually returned to the castle. This very journal was inside it - in pretty good shape, considering the circumstances.

James and Laura never got over their son's death. James shut himself in his study and played "Where oh where is my wandering boy tonight?" over and over on his gramophone until Laura disposed of it. Years later, when Hatley became a military college, James' study was converted into Commander Rayner's office. One night, when the Commander was working late, he heard this very song. He walked out into the hall and looked around, but found nothing. When he returned to his desk, the music stopped.

James Dunsmuir died in 1920, Laura went on to live in the castle until her death in 1937. After that, the building became the Royal Canadian Naval College, the Royal Canadian Air Force College, the Canadian Services College and finally, Royal Roads Military College. It now serves as an administrative building to the college - and often as the ideal location for film and television projects, including "Smallville" and "XMEN III".

Hatley is being restored to its former state and will one day become a full-fledged Heritage House Museum, just as its forerunner, Craigdarroch Castle.

For more information, visit:
http://www.craigdarrochcastle.com
http://www.hatleypark.ca

Metropolis Revisited

2010-03-04T08:29:00.000-08:00

Metropolis Collage: 1923 by ex-Dadaist Paul Citroen - may have very well influenced Fritz Lang in set design for his film.

Mythic Victoria: A Tale of Two Castles Part 1

2010-03-03T07:18:00.000-08:00

Because I currently live in Victoria BC, I thought it might be a good idea to start "Mythic Victoria" as an ongoing sub-topic of Mythic City. Many of my posts will be about Victoria, a worthy city of myth - I don't think I'll ever run out of Victoria stories. Here's the first:

A TALE OF TWO CASTLES

Victoria is a city overflowing with art, culture, and intricate architecture. There aren't too many places in Canada where you can walk down any given street and feel like you've suddenly arrived in Britain of old. Contributing to Victoria's rich mythology are two Victorian Era mansions that are so majestic and immense that they are now referred to as "castles". Craigdarroch and Hatley were built by members of the Dunsmuir family -one by a father, and one by a son. The story of these two castles and their relationship to one another reads like a fairy tale - fraught with drama, intrigue, and ghosts.

CRAIGDARROCH CASTLE

Craigdarroch Castle appears unexpectedly, looming above me with a particularly regal presence. I catch my breath, partly because of the climb, but mostly because it comes as a surprise. It's hard to believe that this 4.5 storey mansion -with Roman arches, Jacobean dormers, and iron-braced Elizabethan chimneys -is hiding in downtown Victoria.

Robert Dunsmuir chose Victoria's highest point to build his dream home in 1887. At the end of the 19th Century, he was one of the wealthiest men in North America, having made his riches in the shipping and mining industry. Craigdarroch is Gaelic for "rocky oak place." Bonanza castles were common in those days, built by affluent businessmen who'd made their fortune in the industrial transformation of the New World. Sadly, Dunsmuir never had a chance to live here. He died in 1889, just before construction was completed.

His wife, Joan, inherited his entire estate. She lived at Craigdarroch until her death in 1908. After that, the castle was owned by Solomon Cameron before it was converted into a military hospital in 1919. Later, it served as the location for Victoria College, the Victoria School Board, and the Victoria Conservatory of Music. Today, it's a Historic House Museum.

I open the door at the front coach entrance and a volunteer greets me. She asks me to clean my shoes on the shoe cleaner before entering. Then she ushers me through a narrow passageway into the Main Hall.

"Look up," she says. The ceiling towers far above me. The golden oak stairway seems to spin. "There are eighty-seven stairs to climb before you reach the top."

I am struck by the ornately carved wood that is practically everywhere. I walk over to the great fireplace of the Main Hall and read the quotation: "Welcome ever smiles and farewell goes out sighing," from Shakespeare's "Troilus and Cressida". I feel like a trespasser, as though I've just walked into someone's home uninvited. In the Library, it feels like someone's just set down their book and gone to the ladies room. Everything is restored to the way it would have been when the Dunsmuirs lived here. Two portraits peer at me from either side of the fireplace: one of Robert, and one of Joan. I get goose bumps.

In the Drawing Room, I hear faint echoes of music and laughter. Light pours in through a stained glass window depicting a woman and a swan. The ceiling is hand-painted. There's a white bear skin rug. I am drawn to a beautiful old Steinway piano.

I ascend the first set of stairs and stop to rest at the organ alcove on the first landing. Musicians would have once played here. Their festive music would have greeted guests as they arrived and filled the entire castle. The room that strikes me most on the second floor is Joan's Sitting Room. It's obvious she spent a great deal of time here. I feel like she's going to come bustling in any second and ask me what I'm doing.

"Do you have any ghost stories?" I ask one of the volunteers.

She smiles and shakes her head. "Officially, no."

"Unofficially?"

"Well, think about it. . . Joan died here. Patients died here when this place was a military hospital. I can't really say any more than that except, at closing time, when I'm checking the rooms, there are strange noises and it can get a little creepy."

I make my way up the final, narrow stairway with its creaking stairs, up to the tower where the view is panoramic. I can see all of Victoria from up here - and beyond. When I'm able to tear my gaze away from the window and look down, I'm struck by the intricate mosaic pattern of the hand-tiled floor.

Others come up the stairs behind me. I hear their gasps and exclamations as they catch the view. This is the best part of the tour.

I could spend all day up here...

mad cities

2010-03-02T15:23:00.001-08:00

"All cities are mad: but the madness is gallant. All cities are beautiful..."

-Christopher Morley.

Vangelis: Side Streets

2010-03-02T06:20:00.000-08:00

Mythic Moment

2010-03-01T14:48:00.000-08:00

Spontaneous celebration at Bastion Square in Victoria BC yesterday, after Canada won gold in hockey. Photo courtesy of Randy McKenna.

The Axis

2010-03-01T14:33:00.000-08:00

"The axis of the earth sticks out visibly through the centre of each and every town or city."

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

dreamscape

2010-03-01T05:58:00.000-08:00

"Travelling, you realize that differences are lost: each city takes to resembling all cities, places exchange their form, order, distances, a shapeless dust cloud invades the continents." - Italo Calvino

I dream of the City.

It is not a City of this world, yet somehow, it resembles all cities. I dream of narrow twisting streets & towering towers. A City made of circles, stars, & spirals

I see the layers of the City: the invisible, subliminal, visible

In this City, they are perpetually excavating. In this City, they are perpetually deconstructing & constructing

I hear the City's music the rhythm of chaos the drones the sirens the Babel of the marketplace

Wave Tower, Dubai

Ravens of the City

2010-02-17T08:51:00.001-08:00

This blog is about mythic cities and also the mythic figures that inhabit them. Ravens have a rich mythology, full of tricks and wit and drama. They co-habitate well with humans, thrive in our cities - feeding on our bountiful waste, nesting in unlikely places. Every city has its guardian birds, seen and unseen, famous or unknown. New York has its Central Park hawks, San Francisco has the wild parrots of Telegraph Hill, London and Victoria have Tower Ravens.

By decree, six or more ravens have lived in the Tower of London for centuries. The British government pays for it. A ravenmaster feeds them, cares for them, and clips their wings so they can't fly away. According to legend, if the ravens ever leave the Tower, the monarchy will fail.

Long ago, King Bran ruled this land. Bran is Welsh for raven. After he was killed in battle, his head was buried at White Mount (where the Tower of London now stands) to guard against invasion, as had been his wish.

This legend was revived and popularized by Geoffery of Monmouth in Historia Regum Britanniae - a history of the kings of Britain - in 1136. It's said that John Flamsteed from the Royal Observatory complained to King Charles II that the Tower ravens were blocking observations. The king ordered for the ravens to be killed, but advisors warned him of the legend, saying if the ravens ever left, the Tower would fall, the monarchy would fail, and great misfortune would befall England. So, instead he decreed that six or more ravens be kept in the Tower at all times. This decree has been taken seriously to this day.

Ravens also watch over the city of Victoria BC. These ones are lesser known, but guardian spirits all the same. A pair lived atop this cellular tower for the past ten years. Their nests were repeatedly removed by maintenance workers, and the ravens repeatedly rebuilt them. They could often be seen here, watching over us as we went about our daily rituals.

They have recently been dislocated due to construction. Time will tell if they will return. In the meantime, city folk wager on whether the BC monarchy will fail.

In Norse Mythology Odin lives in a tower in the city of Asgard, a city of his own making. His ravens, Hugin and Munin (Thought and Memory) visit him every night and inform him of all they have seen in the world that day. Ravens can take advantage of all the best vantage points. They see much more than most humans ever have a chance to. For this reason, they often turn up in myth as scouts.

This tower is one of the highest point in downtown Victoria. I'll bet the view is fantastic up there.

Metropolis

2010-02-11T09:31:00.000-08:00

I've borrowed my header image from Fritz Lang's Metropolis, one of my most favourite films of all time, in one of my most favourite genres. Mesmerizing, with layers upon layers of metaphor and meaning, its message is timeless - perhaps even more timely now for the world, than it was in 1927 Germany:

The mediator between hands and head must be the heart!

Here's an interesting Metropolis Review.

Jeweled City

2010-02-09T05:35:00.000-08:00

Leaving Las Vegas . . .

There is a city...

2010-02-08T21:33:00.000-08:00

This lush passage from Winterson could describe any city of dreams. In this case, a mythic Venice conjured by her narrator, Villanelle:

"There is a city surrounded by water with watery alleys that do for streets and roads and silted up back ways that only the rats can cross. Miss your way, which is easy to do, and you may find yourself staring at a hundred eyes guarding a filthy palace of sacks and bones. Find your way, which is easy to do, and you may meet an old woman in a doorway. She will tell your fortune, depending on your face.

This is the city of mazes. You may set off from the same place to the same place every day and never go by the same route. If you do so, it will be by mistake. Your bloodhound nose will not serve you here. Your course in compass reading will fail you. Your confident instructions to passers-by will send them to squares they have never heard of, over canals not listed in the notes.

Although wherever you are going is always in front of you, there is no such thing as straight ahead. No as the crow flies short cut will help you to reach the cafe just over the water. The short cuts are where the cats go, through the impossible gaps, round corners that seem to take you the opposite way. But here, in this mercurial city, it is required you do awake your faith.

With faith, all things are possible."

- Jeanette Winterson, The Passion

Nights between

2010-01-29T19:38:00.000-08:00

“And one by one the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us.”

-Pablo Neruda

How does a city speak?

2010-01-24T13:26:00.000-08:00

O City, City

2010-01-14T16:06:00.000-08:00

by Delmore Schwartz

To live between terms, to live where death
has his loud picture in the subway ride,
Being amid six million souls, their breath
An empty song suppressed on every side,
Where the sliding auto's catastrophe
Is a gust past the curb, where numb and high
The office building rises to its tyranny,
Is our anguished diminution until we die.
Whence, if ever, shall come the actuality
Of a voice speaking the mind's knowing,
The sunlight bright on the green windowshade,
And the self articulate, affectionate, and flowing,
Ease, warmth, light, the utter showing,
When in the white bed all things are made.

your Mythic City

2010-01-13T13:15:00.000-08:00

We all have one. We all have a mythic city, one that calls us, haunts us, one we dream of constantly. Cityscapes of intricate architecture, looming scrapers that blot out the sun. The mythic city is a stage set/movie backdrop where heroes rise and fall, a place where our dreams play out every night.

There's Coleridge's Xanadu, Winterson's Venice, and my Victoria. There's the LA of Bladerunner, Fritz Lang's Metropolis, George Lucas' Coruscant.

What is your mythic city?

How does she elude you?

Cities & Desire

2010-01-13T13:09:00.000-08:00

Men of various nations had an identical dream. They saw a woman running at night through an unknown city; she was seen from behind, with long hair, and she was naked.

They dreamed of pursuing her. As they twisted and turned, each of them lost her. After the dream, they set out in search of that city; they never found it, but they found one another; they decided to build a city like the one in the dream. In laying out the streets, each followed the course of his pursuit; at the spot where they had lost the fugitive's trail, they arranged spaces and walls differently from the dream, so she would be unable to escape again.

This was the city of Zobeide, where they settled, waiting for that scene to be repeated one night. None of them, asleep or awake, ever saw the woman again. The city's streets were streets where they went to work every day, with no link any more to the dreamed chase. Which, for that matter, had long been forgotten.

New men arrived from other lands, having had a dream like theirs, and in the city of Zobeide, they recognized something from the streets of the dream, and they changed the positions of arcades and stairways to resemble more closely the path of the pursued woman and so, at the spot where she had vanished, there would remain no avenue of escape.

The first to arrive could not understand what drew these people to Zobeide, this ugly city, this trap.

- Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities

Xanadu

2010-01-13T13:04:00.000-08:00

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree : Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea.

- Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Xanadu by Patten Wilson
hardcover edition of Coleridge's poetry
Longmans Green, London 1898.

Seattle reflection

2010-01-12T15:17:00.000-08:00

In this enchanted city...

2010-01-12T10:54:00.000-08:00

"In this enchanted city all things seem possible. Time stops. Hearts beat. The laws of the real world are suspended. God sits in the rafters and makes fun of the Devil and the Devil pokes Our Lord with his tail. It has always been so."

Jeanette Winterson, The Passion

The laws of the real world are suspended. Is she talking about Venice or Vegas? What happens in Venice, stays in Vegas?

Vegas

Unreal City

2010-01-11T19:18:00.000-08:00

Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,
I had not thought death had undone so many.
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet,
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street

- TS Eliot, The Wasteland

London Bridge

Composed on Westminster Bridge

2010-01-11T18:43:00.000-08:00

"This city now doth, like a garment, wear the beauty of the morning; silent bare, ships, towers, domes, theatres and temples lie open unto the fields and to the sky; All bright and glittering in the smokeless air."

- William Wordsworth

Vatican City

Sentinels

2010-01-06T13:20:00.000-08:00

Granville Station

2010-01-05T11:33:00.000-08:00

Strange how the sensation of a particular place can follow you into your dreams. I remember feeling that dizzy, light-headed stomach-flip of vertigo the first time I encountered Granville Station's escalator. And that feeling of being in a sci-fi movie.

And now, when I don't live in Vancouver anymore, the escalator often appears in dreams with this same sensation. Only, it never stops. It goes on and on.

Sometimes I'm going up.

Sometimes, down.

Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference.

Invisible Washington

2010-01-04T07:19:00.000-08:00

This article by Charles Paul Freund conjures a Washington DC we rarely get a chance to see.

Big Blue

2010-01-03T09:20:00.000-08:00

Victoria's Famous Blue Draw Bridge - demolition or restoration?

2010: Utopia

2010-01-01T12:49:00.000-08:00

Plato spoke of Utopia in The Republic.

Sir Thomas Moore had his vision of the Island of Utopia, somewhere in the Atlantic....

Or was he talking about Atlantis?

Countless Utopias have been dreamed and detailed throughout history...

Today is January 1st, 2010

What does your Utopia look like?

Send me your Mythic City

2009-12-29T11:21:00.000-08:00

What is your mythic city or city myth? Send me your stories, art work, music, film, poetry - whatever you like - and I will post as many here as I can.

From Italo Calvino's Invisible Cities

2009-12-28T08:41:00.000-08:00

This blog wouldn't be complete without a quote (or ten) from Calvino's masterpiece:

Cities & The Sky
“Those who arrive at Thekla can see little of the city, beyond the plank fences, the sackcloth screens, the scaffoldings, the metal armatures, the wooden catwalks hanging from ropes or supported by sawhorses, the ladders, the trestles. If you ask "Why is Thekla's construction taking such a long time?" the inhabitants continue hoisting sacks, lowering leaded strings, moving long brushes up and down, as they answer "So that it's destruction cannot begin." And if asked whether they fear that, once the scaffoldings are removed, the city may begin to crumble and fall to pieces, they add hastily, in a whisper, "Not only the city."

If, dissatisfied with the answers, someone puts his eye to a crack in a fence, he sees cranes pulling up other cranes, scaffoldings that embrace other scaffoldings, beams that prop up other beams. "What meaning does your construction have?" he asks. "What is the aim of a city under construction unless it is a city? Where is the plan you are following, the blueprint?"

"We will show it to you as soon as the working day is over; we cannot interrupt our work now," they answer.

Work stops at sunset. Darkness falls over the building site. The sky is filled with stars. "There is the blueprint," they say.

M. C. Escher's Print Gallery

2009-12-27T09:58:00.000-08:00

Here's a website that "visualizes" the

mathematical structure behind Escher's enigmatic Print Gallery.