Somewhere in inner space stands a doorway. Cross at exactly the thirteenth hour and you may find your own everywhen home, exactly as you like it. This is mine, a woodlands cottage I retreat to when I hanker after my fireside, books, candles and the aroma of food cooked on a real wood stove. It is a real place somewhere on the globe and also above it...
Saturday, July 28, 2007
JOURNAL: a blue room
A priest makes an offering to the Gods of the Old Kingdom. How many memories in one picture which represents so many. How many dynasties and how many thousands of ceremonies performed. Mindfulness of the old ways is my intention in this little space, to say: I know you did, you do, exist. The incense rises still blue and faint at first then thickly rolling around the room. Three such in my life, to whom goes my respect and my affection. One my present partner in some magickal things, in some magical way.
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