Tirahvaalta
The Undiscovered Country
“If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?” Lewis Carroll
An ongoing, never truly finished project. Tirahvaalta is a fantastical place that sidles along the edge of poetry and madness; a variegated harlequin that shakes its bauble at the ordinary and laughs out riotous gales of never before seen flowers in the most ludicrous shades. It is a world I have built that is still growing through art and writing and dreams.
While the initial concept of imaginary country was inspired by Nick Bantock (please for the love of unburnt scones go read his Griffin and Sabine series if you haven't already), this place has always been in my head and just needed a name. It originally was going to be a blog, and there's quite a bit of writing that was started and associated with it, but it didn't quite get off the ground. The art for this project is mostly digital. Everything here just barely scratches the surface of what's really there, it was a project in progress and I am still adding pieces recovered from my journals for it.
Denizens and Vignettes
A denizen of Tirahvaalta, but given to frequent the world beyond and make mischief. He is willowy, like the woods he was born from, with prehensile blue hair (that often communicates his mood and thoughts), and startling eyes. His coat harbors many pockets, and pockets within pockets, but he keeps his best and favored treasures tucked away in his wayward blue locks. He stole the gyallarhorn (kleptomania is his favorite hobby) from Heimdall and enjoys playing it at completely inappropriate times. His boots are never the same color twice and his trousers are haunted by kittens.
He is a bit of a shape shifter, most often camouflaging himself into the background to avoid detection, but also has also been known to appear frequently as a broken biscuit, a purple tabby, a moth eaten bowler hat, and a liquified pocket watch that only ever strikes seven.
He enjoys eating apples, cheese and cake, practices chaos like a sport, and engages in a wide variety of jests and pranks. Despite all the ruckus he causes, he's really very tidy and has been known to clean up after a large bit of chaos, especially if it ultimately causes more confusion. He exudes excruciating charm, and will flirt with anything, even inanimate objects, which often end up following him around like minions. He in fact, has his own army of besotted parlour furniture at his ready command in case of a sudden crisis of tea.
His close companions include Captain Marlock of the good ship Ophelia, the Duke of Least Responsibility, and St Gurgle, the patron saint of drinking to forget.
Captain Marlock
Captain of the good ship Ophelia, a schooner which wears six pink galoshes and avoids water at all costs. He wears marmalade as mustahce wax to help prevent scurvy.
Be aware, fair visitor, that herds of feral umbrellas stalk the countryside, and are known to pluck wayward travelers into the air to devour them.
The Pancake of Obviousness The Pancake of obviousness is a celestial phenomenon that happens with some regularity, rising in the wee hours of the morning after the taverns have closed and setting swiftly when the shops close for sandwich break. Much like the moon, the P of O has several phases, which it cycles through once during its journey through the dawning sky. Tirahvaaltan astronomers are particularly fascinated with the strange effects the Pancake has on the landscape, most notably the light dappling of a sticky maple dew on the leaves of local fauna.
Synesthesia - a city that tastes like bananas and chocolate pears, and is accessed by a rogue parade float called Harold.
Times of day-
Fekvargen- morning, the time of day where one curses awakeness.
Grunchle – breakfast time, when one is only awake enough to be surly over cereal.
Abiyaw – the time of morning when one must participate in the herd movement towards one’s place of employment, especially whilst traveling on a rickety system of public transit
Dolzek- The time one spends at a place of work
Orrugad- The blissful lunchhour
Tirahvaaltan Calendar Months
Glockenspiel- A favorite month among the Tirahvaaltans as it contains many festivals and holidays, as well as cheerful spring weather. The month is so named because of the arrival of the famous Glockenspiel mosquito, which when swatted soundly makes a wonderful musical DING! noise. In celebration, children are given brightly colored mosquito swatters shaped like the head of Tirahvaalta’s own Duke of NonSequiters, and take to the streets making wonderful music for all to enjoy.
Widdershins- This month is the shortest of all, being only 5 days in length. Most Tirahvaatans agree however, that it goes on for far too long and celebrate its end fervently. During this month, compasses point south, the water cycles in the opposite direction going down the drain, shoes reverse which foot they fit on, and other major and minor setbacks have been reported.
Pssst- Otherwise known as the invisible month, or the month we are ignoring, Pssst was formerly named Rodney. Little is known or said about this month, when it starts, or how long it is. The only information the Tirahvaaltan history books mention of it is a passing comment on some sort of barking eel infestation. If asked about it, the Tirahvaaltan folk will cross themselves and nail a pickle to their door lintel before locking themselves in and you, out.
The Month of Cacophony
was named for its patron saint, Cacophon. St Cacophon was born in the fifth century and heeded his call of service to the people by trying to draw attention to the plight of the poor. Unfortunately, his did this by strapping far too many metal pots, spoons, and bent musical instruments to his jerkin and attracted far more attention to himself. St. Cacophon would parade through the streets, singing and banging on his tambourine, proclaiming of the woes of the alms beggars, not aware that anyone could hear him over the incessant clanging. People celebrated him by shutting their windows and doors tightly, attaching pillows to their heads, and often throwing soft cheeses at him which would occasionally make a dull THUFF noise. Despite St Cacophon’s spirited attempts at being martyred for his cause, he is still alive and also quite deaf. Parades are still held to this day in his home city- whenever he leaves his residence, villagers line the streets raining love and soft cheeses upon him to dull the noise of his passage.
Saints
St. Cacaphon - Saint of the Unfortunate (see above)
St. Ahbalone- Patron Saint of deli meats
This venerated saint lived in the 17th ½ century in the City of East Memoriae employed as a clerk in a delicatessen. Curtis Von Schpinkehnhouser was haunted by visions of a future event revealed to him as the Blahpacalypse. According to his vision:
From the four corners came the riders upon their Ennuiweasels, sighing and rolling their eyes. The first rider was Petulance, the second was Faineance, the third was Bore, followed at last by Dearth. And in the wake of these riders, all turned grey and withered, fainting away in the doldrums that followed.
Curtis was so obsessed by these visions that he began to warn his customers of the coming Blahpacalypse, but when he did so his accounts were met with the sentiment “Ah, baloney.” Curtis, not realizing his customers’ disbelief, would promptly present them with a hefty sausage thinking they had asked for one. This continued on for several years until the Curtis was smote by a bad batch of potato salad and died. To this day, people still make pilgrimages to the deli where he worked during their holy lunch hours. His spirit still haunts the potato salad, which people purchase in large quantities so that they “may eat of him”. At the beginning of each week, St. Ahbalone is honored with weekly specials on ham loaf, sauerkraut balls, and bulk licorice.
St. Calamitus - Saint of Chaotic Mishaps and Clumsiness
Truly a quiet, well meaning soul, whose clumsiness befalls only others surrounding him.
San Pistachio- Saint of stale biscuits and unwanted fruitcake
The City of Muse
Arguably the most populated of all Tirahvaalta's cities and essentially the hub for the whole country, Muse is rife with artists, poets, writers and musicians. It is accessible by invisible karozzin, which can only be seen by stepping within the shadow of a sundial.
The city is quietly watched over by the Fei Tian, a flying apsara who often appears as a winged mask when not in her chambers. Denizens include William Shakespeare, Edgar Allen Poe and two of most famous unknown artists Eponymus and Anonymus Bosch.
While Muse is generally a safe and clean locale, that there are reports of rampant sex amongst violins in the alleys. Should you hear a sudden crescendo, avert your eyes.
The Ruins of Oubliette
The ruins of Oubliette are the lost and found of Tirahvaalta, where many a set of keys, remote control and random sock abide. It is place of secrets and misplaced objects, overseen by the Great Sphinx. He may seem at first somber, but purrs easily if you offer him a bourbon biscuit or five.
Sites of Interest around Oubliette
The Desert of Ghastly Furniture
Abandon ye, all who enter here, your naughahyde couch ensembles, your creaky daybed upholstered in a shameful plaid, and your barstools shaped like fleshy buttocks but done up in iridescent pink glitter vinyl.
The Giant Sand Walrus - a large tusked creature made of sand who just wants a cuddle and a bucket of sardines.
The Shouting Lions - Two reclining lion statues spaced just far enough that they must yell to be heard, but can never fully understand each other.
Corridoors- The Corridoors are somewhat like a train station, except in the fact that they are found in the middle of nowhere and there most certainly aren't any trains going to and from them. Nonetheless, they are a mode of travel for local Tirahvaltaans. No one is sure just how many there are as they tend to disappear if frightened.
Oasis of Embarrassment-
Woe to he who is thirsty in this place, for drinking from the waters here will cause the immediate reenactment of your most mortifying moments in alphabetical order. Should you find yourself in this predicament, we advise that you invoke St. Gurgle, the patron saint of Drinking to Forget.
The Periodic Table - A piece of neoclassical furniture that usually makes its home in Oubliette, but has a proclivity for running away to Antiques Roadshow and turning into all manner of punch bowls, depression glass, chaise lounges, overstuffed ottomans, novelty barware and forged William Turner paintings.
The City of Never
The city of Never is less a city than it is a cemetery. A foggier, purple skied version of Dickensian London, Never is a haunted place, peopled by discarded ideas and thoughts, wandering about as ghosts do. The streets are lined with old ruined Gothic buildings, tangled trees, and wild gardens. In the center of the town are the sighing statues- a circular platform surmounted by several sculptures that are visibly moping, and ever so often will release a mournful sigh. Attempts to placate them go unnoticed. The King of Never, the Death's Head Moth, is the only denizen able to leave the boundaries of the city. Should someone arrive at the gates of Never and manage to reclaim a lost dream, a band of skeletons will lead them out of the city with the joyous fanfare of a jazz funeral second line.
Masquerade
The City is well known for its colorful professional revelers. There is not a single day in Masquerade where some sort of party or festival hasn’t been scheduled, and all attendees arrive swathed in the most elegantly ostentatious and outlandish costumes. However, as no one wants to wear the same outfit night after night, revelers are frequently changing their appearance so much that few can remember who everyone is. Especially after a few drinks. Herein you will find endless revelry, parades and pub crawls. The streets are covered with an inch thick layer of feathers, glitter and beads, necessitating the partygoers to sport rather tall but quite fashionable shoes.The city shifts locations, circulating about the countryside and can be nigh impossible to locate unless one has a proper invitation, which is by necessity, a mask. Revelers masks can be purchased at McPickles Newstand and Porridge Parlor for three buttons and a bad haiku.
A warning for all visitors: under no circumstances should you either refer to or make the gesture of JAZZ HANDS or you will get "THE CLAP".
The City of Under
Under is reachable by balloon or zeppelin, and has quite the unique field of gravity.
Memoriae
A city filled with libraries and museums. This is where the intellectuals meet and debate whether or not Schroedinger's bar is open or closed for business, for none want to go inside to find out.
Peili, the Royal City
Within the palace of Peili dwells La Valtana, the regent of Tirahvaalta, and her illustrious court:
Royal Steward- Cuthbert Bluenose (looks like a pudding)
The Earl Of Least Responsibilities
The Earl of Cupcake
Lord Fallacious
Lord Widget
The Earl Of Platitude
Sir Calculus
The Duke of Non Sequiters
