Book Love: Robert Jordans first writings;Warrior of the Altaii


I came across a wonderful surprise awhile ago, that Robert Jordan had another fantasy novel outside of the wheel of time series, and that in fact it was his first ever work.

As I have been delving into the novel, I’ve been delighted to see that many of his concepts for the wheel of time series came out of this novel. The altaii people are very much  the predecessors of the Aiel, with the sisters of wisdom evolving into the wise ones of the Aiel people, and many of the traits you see bleeding into his later work.

How Robert introduced characters from our modern world into the story is fascinating as well.

For anyone looking to see the beginnings of a master storyteller, the warrior of the Altaii is a great peek into Jordans young mind. I highly recommend checking it out.

Little Joys Ch.61-62-63

This post is part of an ongoing challenge to share a little joy I have found each day of this year, and perhaps for the rest of my life. I hope you enjoy it!

When life throws you lemons, make lemon ginger and honey tea. Another mashing of days due to life’s unexpected curve balls.

March 1st, 2020

Nothing is as potent as nature for rejuvenating your spirit, at least for me. I have found myself in a bit of a funk these last few days, as weeks of bad sleep, travel, and sickness have taken their toll. Yet I was blessed enough to be given a tip about a waterfall nearby the town I am staying in. After a 40 minute trek I managed to find my way to it, and it was perfection. I was able to wade out into the river and stand under all that raw power, and just allow it to wash away all the crap from my mind for the next few hours, it was beautiful.


March 2nd, 2020

Human design is everywhere. As someone who’s heart lies more in nature than human architecture, I can still find myself pleasantly surprised and delighted by the design concepts and spaces we create. Having had a rather negative experience at my last guesthouse, I splurged a bit more on my last two days of stay in Ubud and got myself a room at the outpost penestanan, a co-living and co-working spot. The interior of my standard room is gorgeous, with a kind of rock floor that feels oh so good under my toesies, and great modern style, as well as a comfy couch built in that just sets the mood for lazing or working. There is also a great open space outside with pool and shared kitchen, and a really nice co-working space on the roof. It is quite pricey to stay here, but for those with the cash to spend and looking for a positive environment to work online and be with other like minded folks, this place is definitely worth checking out. I for one do not have the money to stay here long, so two nights is all I can enjoy haha.

March 3rd, 2020

We all have our little vices, some beneficial, some harmful, some merely temporarily painful. I have a bit of an addiction to tattoos, and after careful consideration, meaning a day or two of thought, got a new one on my chest, as well as a big touch-up and change of a prior one I had done in Canada but that did not turn out well. There is something about inking my skin that just satisfies some urge I have. Especially for words. Although I have a few designs, most of my tattoos are just words and quotes and poems. It just feels right to have them near me at all times. It brings me joy, lots of it.

For anyone wondering, the symbol on my arm is from the Zelda series, it is a modified triforce. The quote on my chest is from my recently mentioned book the slow regard of silent things by Patrick Rothfuss. I am highly tempted to get a Walt Whitman poem either on my back or my side, so stay tuned.


Poetry Highlight: Shelley on the present moment and our finite lives

Talk no more

Of thee and me, the future and the past..

Earth and Ocean, Space, and the isles of life or light that gem

The sapphire floods of interstellar air,

This firmament pavilioned upon chaos..

This whole, Of suns and worlds, and men and beasts, and flowers

With all the violent and tempestuous workings

By which they have been, are, or cease to be, 

Is but a vision: all that it inherits are motes of a sick eye,

Bubbles and dreams; thought is its cradle and its grave, nor less

the future and the past are idle shadows

Of thoughts eternal flight, they have no being. 

Nought is but that it feels to be.