Sex & Scent – A Cautionary Mayan Tale

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Sex and Scent – A Cautionary Mayan Tale

Xkeban was lusty as she was beautiful.   Lust coursed through her body unchecked. A libido as big as the hot at the peak of a summer’s day in the Yucatecan jungle when you can do nothing but lay in your hammock and sweat, too hot to even fan. That’s how big her lust was.

That’s right, I said, unchecked. And in the little Mayan village where Xkeban lived, the sway of her hips as she lead her many lovers off to her palapa or worse yet, to the jungle, filled the more sanctimonious villagers with condemnation.

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And in the hearts of the villagers, the Yucatecan heat blazed in a hell-storm of fiery condemnation for that “floozy,” Xkeban. And fan this fire they would. Especially one villager named Utz-Colel.

Utz-Colel was just as beautiful as Xkeban, but she was pious. She did not let her secret passions drive her to look brazenly into the eyes of the men. Or to openly leer at the curve of their low backs, (you know, that dip just above a man’s buttocks where neatly fits a hand) as she “accidently” brushed her swelling breasts up against him in the market place to reach for the ripest mango. Nope. Utz-Colel did not even think of such things. She did not give into these passions merely because it “felt natural” as Xcaben was prone to. Really. No, never.

Yet… whom was it the villagers called for when they were ill and needed someone to sit by their sick beds dampening their fevered foreheads? And who was it that took in the goats when past milking age? And the old dogs too lazy and useless?

Have you guessed it? Not the pious Utz-Colel, but Xkeban. Because Xkeban’s heart was as big and kindly as her lust. Truly, even bigger. And while Xkeban would use the finery gifted her by her lovers to feed the indigent. Utz-Colel would scorn those below her while she twisted her ribbons and dark thoughts into her black braids. For inside she was bitter and Utz-Colel’s heart was cold as snakeskin.

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One day a most delicate and sweet perfume filled the air of the little village. The sublime intoxicating effects of this aroma caused all to seek its source, leading them to the home of that (good-hearted) slut, Xkeban. Her time amongst the living was done and there she lay, and from her wasted body emanated this fine perfume.

Well, Utz-Colel was in disbelief and swore up and down that when she died she would smell one hundred times better than that whore, Xkeban…

A few good-hearted individuals who remembered Xkeban’s kindnesses arranged for her burial. The next morning the fragrance was even more pronounced. Scent intoxicated once again, the villagers followed the perfume to the grave of Xkeban to find darling little flowers, the Xtabentun flowers, had proliferated on her grave!

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Time passed and, I suppose you can guess what happened when pious and haughty Utz-Colel died. From her body emanated a foul stench so unbearable the villagers could barely stand to plant her in the earth upon which they hastily flung various flower seeds before scurrying quickly off.

But the next day only a spiny, odorless, cactus flower, called the Tzacam flower bloomed.

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Well from the other side of the grave, Utz-Colel became furious about this and arranged somehow (it’s a secret) to return from death and remedy this perfume problem. She decided she would wantonly seduce as many men as possible just as Xkeban had done. Then she too could smell of fine perfume and produce darling little flowers on her grave.

Now here is where my tale turns cautionary. So listen up, those of you who think this seduction plan is sounding… interesting.

Villagers beware! Utz-Colel has now taken to posing sensuously under the Ceiba tree at the edge of the village, languidly combing her long black hair. And if she lures you into the jungle with the sway of her ample hips in the delirious heat of a Yucatecan summer’s afternoon, you will not be seen in the village again. For the bitter, soul-stealing sex of Utz-Colel is like making love to an odorless cactus flower on a foul and cold snakeskin bed, and it is believed her savage wrath against Xkeban will be your demise. Really.

Just thought you’d like to know.

This tale is my retelling of a traditional Mayan tale. It is an absolute true story of how the Xtabentun and Tzacam flowers came to exist. If you don’t believe me then just go ahead into the jungle with Utz-Colel and see for yourself.

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art from maya sin fronteras

~For My Mom~

This month will find me heading to the Yucatan Peninsula as a tour leader for my parents company Mexi-Mayan Travel.   We’ve a group of lively and curious travelers including my parents.  All avid learners and explorers and some archeologists and anthropologists.  We’ll explore Mayan culture and history as well as the local flora and fauna.  There’ll likely be some margaritas and excellent sea food…

As special gift to our group I’ll create for them a fragrance based on their group scent memories of our journey.  Each person picking one or two outstanding (pleasant) scent memories.  Then I’ll blend it up!

As always, thanks for visiting here!

New York Faerie Festival 2016, A Missy Friendly Affair

From the edge of the dance floor at the Masquerade Ball, Missy’s ears prick up,  “It’s Missy!  I know that dog!  She’s a dog worth petting again!”  Missy’s first visit to the New York Faerie Festival, or any festival, and she’s made friends with faeries, trolls, goblins & wizards within the realm of the fae.

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Missy strikes a pose in the Walk of Frame

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And what a festival!  Abundant enchantment; music & dancing all day…

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Downloading faerie tunes through his antlers
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Dancing to the beat of the troll drum jam
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Don’t you love a faerie queen who dances with her subjects?

 

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Troll limbo
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Steampunk hippie faerie jig

Magical creatures of all varieties…  (Missy’s new friends)

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We love everything about her
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The Faerie Court
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Glitterati Faeries
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Rainbow Gladheart
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Mother Crane the poetry giving faerie.  My poem?  Tree House by Shel Silverstein
Tree House

A tree house, a free house.
A secret you and me house,
A high up in the leafy branches
Cozy as can be house.

A street house, a neat house
Be sure and wipe your feet house
Is not my kind of house at all-
Let's go live in a tree house.

~Shel Silverstein
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This little woodsprite moments before lavishing Missy with the pets.
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Faerie of the Never Ending Smile.
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Grandmother Tree graces the Queene’s throne in The Faerie’s Garden in the Queene’s absence and lends an ear to wonderments.
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Sacred Drum Master of Events, Ken from Eyeclopedes (for all your drumming needs) with a Powerful Elven Enchantress

 

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Perchance of the Goblin persuasion?
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An odd creature who trades and sells an even odder assortment of thing-a-ma-bobs.  I ask him, can I take his picture?  His curt reply “Can I take the color of your eyes?”  Considering my answer carefully (faeries can be dangerous) I notice we have the same eye color.  I tell him so and we look into each others eyes for an unusually odd and long moment.
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Gregarious juggler Trinket (Lisa) of Tinket’s Costume and Sundry.  Lisa can help you create a costume out of recycles, vintage, and whatnots!  Really helpful, especially if you are just starting out.
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Lisa’s Fae Finery Detail
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Oz-like…

Missy is particularly enchanted with the joust and horses, ‘scuse me, unicorns.

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The Faerie Queene, Mistress of Ceremony – Round Table Productions
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Butterfly Gown Detail

When not getting petted, Missy let me visit some of the many lovely vendors.  Just a sampling…

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Do you know this feeling?

When you look into the woods at night or dusk.  And you can feel the mystery.  The wonder of it.

What.  Is.  Going.  On.  In.  There?

Magnetized towards the pulsation of the ancient virtues.  Heart quickening.  You know something is going on in there!  Alchemistic renderings of earth and spirit, your transcendence is a gossamer thread away…

It’s on the other side of the Troll’s Bridge (no duh), the Faerie Habitat.  An enchanted sphere of the Festival grounds.  Dryads, Mermaids, Faeries…  Charm spinning and spirit gifting…

Linger in the Habitat to connect and transcend.

But first you must get past the trolls.  And, be warned.  There is a troll toll.  They demand, in the friendliest of ways,  “shinys” (really anything that is shiny), or a joke, or you may choose to get mud tattooed.

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“Turkey in a tree”

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Missy is not so sure of the trolls.  Mayhap because they refer to her as a goat.

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“Can we eat the goat?”
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“grrrh”

But the charm of the Trolls wins Missy over.

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Four Tusk
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One Tusk

In the end Missy passes in to the Faerie Habitat.  Her mysterious encounters there will remain mysteriously hers.

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But wait,  Goblins!

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Goblin Mistress

Gandersnitch the Goblin is a revelation.  Despite the assurance that he is a reformed Goblin, poetic and wise, I’m wary.  But he turns out to be a kindly inspiration.

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Gandersnitch the Goblin

Gandersnitch is indeed poetic and wise.  I’m reading and loving his perfectly inappropriately refreshing and highly entertaining book now.

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Inscribed “Be quick, be clever, be wild.”  It’s on Amazon, who knew?  To get it, click here.

He also has a lovely card game and takes confessions.

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Gandersnitch hypnotizing Missy.

As for me, the festival was my sublime medicine.  I am sincerely grateful.  Thank you.

Surrounded by the singing of the spirit of the wild self, I am mended.  Thank you.  I soak up kindness,  wildness, and joy from the festival creatures.  Thank you.  The dear souls near my tent who chat with me and help me set up and dance with me at the ball.  Thank you.  The sparkling eyes and filthy-glittered dancing bodies.  Prose and laughter spilling from mouths like honeyed nectar.  And the collective feeling that life is indeed something to be lived and played with.  The outward reflection that we are all of us beautiful and magical.  Thank you.

It brings me back to myself.  Ah yes, hello to my beautiful, magical me.  So nice to glow you again.

Thank you, New York Faerie Festival.

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Some general info about the festival.

The New York Faerie Festival is a three-day affair just completing it’s 7th year.   It is out in the boonies of New York, tucked in a valley near a river.  Parts of the Festival grounds are in shady woods, and parts bright sun.

Primitive (Port-O-Let) but happy camping is available on the premises. Two yummy dinners are included, with options for meat eaters and vegetarians.  There is a simple breakfast hosted at the local firehouse for a small fee/donation.   There are some other campgrounds and motels nearby.

There is so much going on at this festival!   I barely touched on it here.  Fantastic music and performances on multiple stages, outstanding vendors, jousting, tons of street characters who interact with the festival goers, some food trucks, and little spaces throughout the grounds to hang out and play or dream. The Masquerade Ball on Saturday night is not to be missed!

Wear a costume.

Bring cash, always appreciated and it was hard to get a signal to use the Square reader.

Also, read the email communications you receive from the Festival carefully, for if you camp there are specific arrival times.

Hope to see you there in 2017!

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Missy and me
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View from our tent
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View from our car

 

If you want more festival blogs, I  have several.  Here they be:

Maryland Faerie Festival, 2016

Maryland Faerie Festival, 2015

Bristol Renaissance Faire, 2015

…In Memoriam ~ Margaret ~ Brightest Blessings…