Dryad

I  was struck with wonderment at the sight of this tree, surveying me with its unblinking, intense gaze as if to stare me down.

But it was only after I'd taken the initial shots and walked around it that I realized that this was no ordinary tree -- it was the habitation of a dryad!

In olden days it might well have been -- very likely would have been -- an object of worship, as a guardian spirit of a village perhaps, or maybe a forest god.  Tiger hunters and wild ginseng harvesters would have made small offerings on a makeshift altar, barren wives would have prayed for its blessing.  But today the busy pedestrians passing by with hurried steps pay it nary a glance.  No wonder it's starved for a feeding, waiting with its mouth open.  As I, too, walked away I was left in a wistful mood.

Myths need sustenance, just like mortal humans.

Related post:  "Mandrake Root"

My Untitled Tragic Short Story About The Sad Downfall Of A Sorcerer's Apprentice

A long time ago, I wrote a short story about a modern day disciple of a real-life sorcerer.  I never submitted it for publication and the original draft has been lost, but here is the gist:  the guy manages to hack his master's computer (but of course -- think Micky Mouse in Fantasia putting on his master's hat) to obtain secret knowledge of methods for summoning spirits from other dimensions, which, of course, he dares to do, even though "he wasn't ready".  Well, as you might well imagine, something goes terribly wrong, and he ends up being "infected", or should I say "infested", by uncounted sub-human spirits from a lower realm that visibly take him over, in effect turning him into a monster whose entire body is made of stupid, animalistic and demanding faces of the spirits.  In despair he goes to a hammermill shredder and throws himself into it, thereby ensuring that no one will ever know what happened to him.

Compared to all those other sad stories about interactions with spirits or elves or whatever, where the human almost invariably ends up being shortchanged by superior beings who promise wealth or longevity, etc., I think my story stands out for featuring spirits that are actually less intelligent and less capable than humans.  Pretty positive, no?^^

Nostalgia

FOR SOMETHING THAT NEVER WAS

Does anyone else ever feel like this?  Wistful, melancholy, and kinda sorta sad and longing for something, but not quite knowing what it is that you miss.  

In Korean folklore, a human being (and also our beloved pets like dogs and cats) is a star that came down from heaven and became embodied on Earth.  When the body dies we go back to the sky and take our place among the stars again.  You might say that when we feel a vague longing without knowing the cause, it's our soul longing for our old home in the heavens.

EDIT:  Someone told me that the musical style of Japanese composer Joe Hisaishi (born Mamoru Fujisawa), longtime collaborator of animation director Hayao Miyazaki, has been described as making one "nostalgic for things that never were".  Come to think, that description really does fit much of his music. 

Related post:  I-Witness: 2 Angels