Archive for the World Myths Category

Beowulf

Posted in Conceptual Art, Mystical Experience, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on November 15, 2012 by javedbabar

Osiris was a commercial success, though not a romantic one. Things ended badly for Isis, who lost her beloved husband Osiris, and for Sophie, whose love interest Ahmad disappeared. Maybe the shows at QARY were too real, thought Sophie, and affecting material reality. What a crazy thought.

As the next production Sophie selected Beowulf, which also had an underworld theme. To be precise it was an underwater cave, but that was near enough.

“I’ve seen monsters here,” said Albert, the quarry’s last manager before mining operations ceased. “There were days when you couldn’t bear to go in for fear of what lurked in the shadows. You tasted the dust, darkness made you see things, and rocks made you hear things. The quarry seemed alive to us and sometimes when we went too far, she punished us. Many good men were lost over the years, about one every season. They were our sacrifices to the mine. I’m glad you’ve brought the quarry back to life, but you better be careful with her.”

They gathered for a pre-production meeting. Sophie said, “Okay, we’ve pretty much decided on layout. We’ll make the first chamber Heorot, the mead hall, the second chamber Grendel’s mother’s lair, and the third chamber the Dragon’s cave.” Everyone nodded. “Instead of a linear narrative, this time we’re trying something less structured.” They nodded again. “Each chamber has a monster which can move between the stages, so raising the drama.”

This was their fourth production together, and the team had gelled. They had a good understanding of each other’s preferences, relative weaknesses and strengths.

Within four weeks the production was ready to go. The first three nights were sold out in advance. QARY had become a big money spinner for Lucerne.

The first chamber was stunning. Its bare rock walls, floors, ceiling and pillars were filled with projections. They seemed covered by rich tapestries and paintings, and hung with swords, shields and armour. The gems on the weapons glittered like stars.

Feasting Dane warriors were slaughtered by gruesome Grendel. He crushed their skulls and ribs and feasted on their brains and hearts. Brave Geats came from across the waters to help them; their King, Beowulf, killed the monster by ripping off his arm.

The second chamber used mood lighting only. It was the underwater lair of Grendel’s mother, who had continued to slaughter warriors as revenge for her son’s death. The epic battle between her and Beowulf caused splashes of red to multiply till they filled the whole chamber.

The third chamber also used mood lighting. After Beowulf’s victory in Denmark, he had returned to Geatland and ruled for fifty years. One day a dragon guarding a hoard of gold was awoken, and laid waste the land. Beowulf’s final heroic act was to rid his kingdom of this cruel dragon, and whilst doing so he was injured and died.

During the performance, groups of people hid in chambers and moved around. There was indeed no separation between mythic and historical, and real and imagined events. These people were fighting modern monsters – drugs, alcohol, glue, lust, greed, anger and many other addictions. The dark corners of QARY were the perfect place to indulge them all.

Osiris

Posted in Conceptual Art, Mystical Experience, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on November 14, 2012 by javedbabar

It was the second season of the old quarry’s projection project. The first season’s experiment had gone so well that The Authority had changed its zoning from community use to commercial operation and approved a $10 million investment. Sophie’s business plan stated the operation would break even in Year Five.

She now had one hundred digital projectors, fibre-optic cabling, dynamic event lighting and a ten-man production crew. The project also had a new name, QARY, and an associated logo with the tails of the Q and Y joining. It reminded Sophie of a Viking boat.

They could now stage more ambitious shows, such as the myths and legends she had dreamed of since childhood. Sophie had somehow known this would happen. She had fainted upon first entering the quarry, and from that moment onwards the real and imagined seemed intertwined.

A resident of Lucerne came to see her. Hello handsome, she thought.

“I am Ahmad, I come from Egypt,” he said. “Before the revolution I worked as an archaeologist. I would like to be involved in the QARY project, and as the first show of this season may I suggest Osiris?”

“I was thinking of Percival,” she said. “I have always liked the Grail stories.”

His eyes lit up. “Me too, but Osiris is God of the Underworld. He is a perfect fit for QARY.”

“That’s a good point. Do you want to join the production team?”

They spent the next week fleshing out the story. Many versions of the Osiris myth are scattered through the ages. He is God of the Dead, a merciful judge, an underworld agency granting the power of life, responsible for sprouting vegetation and the Nile’s fertile flood. Better stay on his good side, thought Sophie. We don’t want a repeat of the Lucerne Valley’s 2004 inundation.

Sophie and Ahmad collected texts, made recordings, and conducted negotiations to license images. The rest of the production team worked on structure and flow. It took a month to pull it all together. Sophie held her breath on the first night, and also Ahmad’s hand. They were a team now, both on and off set.

The crowd smiled as the good god Osiris travelled the world spreading maat, righteous order. They tried to warn him that he was about to be tricked by his evil brother Set, and shouted, “Don’t get into the chest!” They cried when the chest was sealed and thrown into the Nile, the watery mood enhanced by blue lighting. There were cheers when Isis found the coffin stuck in a tree in Byblos, and quiet during the corpse’s mummification, enhanced by overwhelming white light.

Osiris’s magical reanimation led to many  “Ah’s” and “Wow’s”. They grinned during Horus’s miraculous conception, and someone shouted, “That stiff is really stiff!”

Isis stored Osiris’s body in a swamp. The audience was horrified when Set found the body and chopped it into fourteen pieces, and red light poured down the walls. There were smiles again when his body parts were gathered and buried, and he became an underworld god.

The production was flawless. Sophie breathed out.

The second week, someone in the crowd became hysterical. His screams drowned out the commentary for a while. The next morning the cleaner found chunks of meat scattered. Bloody kids hunting again, he thought, leaving meat out for the wolves.

Sophie wondered where Ahmad had gone. Maybe he didn’t like the way the show had turned out. Or maybe he didn’t like how she was turning out. She wondered if he had managed to have that profit-share meeting with her CEO. Surely that would be a brutal encounter.

Local Artists

Posted in Conceptual Art, Mystical Experience, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on November 12, 2012 by javedbabar

Sophie was given a month off after fainting in the old quarry. Why this had happened, she couldn’t say. She fainted maybe once a year, usually following a trauma such as a blood test, tooth extraction, or session of heavy drinking. Never just like that though, and her heart stopping was scary to think about.

Maybe the old quarry’s manager, Albert, had overreacted. Maybe her heart’s beating and her breathing were fine, and his old miner’s ears just couldn’t hear. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to make a drama out of a crisis. It must really have happened.

Her dreams of every kind of art continued. Blue and gold paintings, violin solos, white-masked dancers, poetry, stories, dramas, sculptures, celebrations, parties, holy rituals.

Were these inspirations or delusions? She yearned to visit the old quarry, but was scared to. What if she fainted again?

During her month off, an answer came to her. The quarry was a place of pain, where Mother Earth had been butchered. Her body had, piece by piece, been ripped out and removed, and once the demand for rock was exhausted, the quarry was abandoned like an old crone.

Her vision had been one of endless life, pouring forth, unstoppable. What if this place of pain could become a place of healing? She continued working on her status report for the old quarry.

“Sophie, what a nice surprise,” said her CEO, seeing her back in the office.

“I have the report.”

“But you’ve only just got back. Don’t you need more time?”

Sophie said it was complete. She shared her vision of using the vast, bare walls, floors, ceilings, and pillars of the quarry as a projection area. Bringing the stone to life, like a miracle, and using it to show every kind of art.

“That sounds very interesting. Leave it with me. I will take a look.”

Sophie imagined that would be the last she would hear of the project, but a week later her CEO called her in again. “Good news, Sophie. Your plan has been approved, at least on a test basis. I had to put my name on it for the project to acquire traction, but we both know it’s yours really. As recognition of that you can manage the project.”

The quarry project was approved for community use only. Sophie contacted Eric Yahoo, Director of the Lucerne Arts Council, who asked for a week to fathom a plan. He responded with a fund-raising proposal including carefully costed lighting, logistics, security, production charges and vendors’ fees. The concept revolved around ten reconditioned slide projectors showing sixty images each per hour, filling the quarry with pictures.

Local artists offered their works freely, which were loosely fitted together into the It’s Mine! Festival, a humorous critique of materialistic existence. Their paintings, music, dance, poetry, stories, drama, sculpture, celebrations, parties and rituals were combined, creating an overwhelming spectacle.

A critic from the New City Sun christened these artists the Lucerne Set. He loved their clay figurines, urban tapestries, unmade beds, pickled watermelons, moose dung, monkey graffiti, blood heads, and twinned personae.

It was a diluted version of Sophie’s vision, and seeing it manifested made her cry. From this old quarry she had mined rich treasure.

Old Quarry Conversion

Posted in Conceptual Art, Mystical Experience, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on November 11, 2012 by javedbabar

Her CEO yelled, “Come!”

Why does she always do that? thought Sophie. Is it too much effort to say the word in? Or even to add a please at the end? I guess busy people need to use fewer words. Superiors must save their time and energy – for what though, so inferiors can expend theirs instead?

“Good morning,” said Sophie. “I haven’t seen you for a while. You look well.” Why shouldn’t she look well, she thought, she has a full time servant at home. That’s what she calls him – servant. How can she afford him? Lucerne Village Hall doesn’t pay that well.

“Thank you, Sophie. I feel that you are underworked. Would you agree? You would? Good. Obviously, Crisis Manager is a vital role, but we don’t have a crisis every day – unless you count my management style.”

This was a joke and Sophie was meant to laugh, wasn’t she? She wasn’t sure though. The CEO practiced GBH: Guidance By Hysterics. She was a terrible person to work for.

“We need a status report on the old quarry. I am allocating a month to do it. Can you have it complete by then?”

The bauxite quarry had been in operation for almost a century, providing material for civic buildings and fine homes. It had a history of accidents, pollution, corruption, industrial action and financial trouble. The Authority had kept the quarry open to maintain local jobs, but admitted eventually that it was cheaper and easier to import finished rock, and shut it four years ago.

Sophie went with Albert, the old quarry’s last manager, to take a look. She had only been in the village a year, and never seen the quarry open. Once the rusty locks were oiled, Albert pulled the overgrown iron gates open.

They walked past mounds of broken white rock and rusting machinery, before seeing a tall, rectangular gash in the hillside. As Sophie drew closer, she realized that the gash was a hundred feet high.

Sophie was drawn to this void; her feet led themselves; it was like walking towards the church when she was a child, to her grandma’s for lunch, and to a friend’s birthday party. It was like walking everywhere at once.

The gash had not been cut cleanly. Around it were probings and narrowings, where blasters, pickaxes and drills had worked, homing in on the centre, the cave, the bony canal extending deep into Mother Earth. It seemed a source of hidden power.

Albert gave her a hard hat and said, “Watch your step and your head. I come here once a year to take a look, but otherwise it is empty and falling apart. So just you…”

Sophie smelled figs and apples. She had a vision of the gash filled with everything in the world. It was overflowing with people pouring out. Life was being celebrated here by every kind of art. There were huge abstract paintings dripping blue and gold. Violin solos soaring. Scores of white-masked dancers. Poets on rock niches lauding the dark. Stories told of dragons and hidden treasures. Dramas of tortured hearts. Giant sculpted women. Bar Mitzvahs. Birthday parties. Holy mass.

The touch of God.

The breath of God.

The kiss of God.

Sacred vibrations.

Albert stared into her eyes. “Are you okay?” he said, looking crazed. Sophie had fainted and her heart stopped. Thank God he was trained in first aid; his skills were rusty but he had administered the Kiss of Life and CPR.

Sophie was used to managing other peoples’ crises. Now she must make sense of her own.

Monkey Business

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on October 15, 2012 by javedbabar

Adil shouldn’t have gone hiking.  He had never gone by himself before. His friend Steve was supposed to take him, but domestic issues had caused him to drop out. He said, “Monkey! Let’s go next weekend instead.” Monkey was Adil’s nickname, on account of his hairy body and climbing skills, and he was also called “link”, as in the missing link.

Adil was feeling stressed by life in general, and its romantic and financial aspects in particular. He needed to get away.

He packed his backpack, hitched a couple of rides up the valley, and headed into the forests at the base of Mt Negra. Four days would be enough to reach the top of the mountain, spend a day there, and come back down. It was irresponsible to climb alone, but it wasn’t really climbing. Steve had said no technical ascent was involved.

The first day was great. Adil estimated that he was about halfway up, which wasn’t bad seeing as he had only started climbing at midday. Maybe he was better off without Steve after all. He travelled faster alone.

He found a good spot to set up camp, a small meadow with red, gold and green wildflowers. He hadn’t known there were such things as green flowers. He picked one and smelled its rich, coffee-like perfume.

His tent was up in five minutes, and a three course meal under way in fifteen. He cooked it in four stages on his camp stove. First was beef soup, then pasta, then tomato sauce for it, and then tea. Nice warm liquids, nourishing and hydrating, so much better than the junk he consumed daily – burgers, pizza and beer.

Adil threw a rope over a branch and hauled his supplies up into the tree. He’d probably be OK, but why take the chance?

This didn’t stop a hungry black bear though, which must have climbed the tree, jumped on the backpack, and gnawed away the rope. By the time Adil emerged from his tent, it was already gone, leaving only quivering bushes.

No food was an issue, as was no water, but most pressing was no map or compass, which he had foolishly left in the pocket of the backpack, which was now elsewhere. The thought of the compass guiding the bear around the province amused him briefly, but quickly seemed less funny.

Adil could make out his general position but not get an accurate bearing. Should he continue to the top or turn back now?

He wandered around a bit, looking for his bag. Maybe it could still be recovered. It became dark unexpectedly, too quickly, so he set up his tent again. In the night he dreamed of fur brushing against his skin and something dark biting him, but upon waking found no tooth marks. The smell of rich coffee must still be on his breath from the night before.

Adil navigated by the sun’s position and made progress downwards, but became less sure of his orientation. He saw a strange jumble above his head. Was it a huge nest? Or some kind of aerial beaver’s lodge? It seemed a rough tree house, but who would build that here?

If he stayed up there he would be safe from the bear though. He collected nuts, fruits, berries and herbs and spent the third night of his hike in the tree house. He didn’t feel safe on the forest floor, so stayed there the next night too, coming down only to gather foods.

A week later, Search & Rescue teams came looking for Adil. One of them saw his shelter and what seemed to be a large monkey within it. He pushed the speak button on his radio. He must inform his team that he’d found a new species of primate in the forest, that built green flower nests. But before he said anything, he smelled rich coffee, sensed something above him, and everything went black.

Mystical Meeting

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , on August 31, 2012 by javedbabar

After the village fertility ritual, they rested awhile. Sami lay down at the foot of the fir tree that was decorated with bright ribbons. Guru Baba sat in lotus position beneath a cherry tree. He reminded Sami that he’d given him the day off so that he could “stay up working”.

“We can only rest for half an hour,” he said. “Then there’s someone you must meet. He’s only around for a little while longer, and then he’s gone.”

“Gone where?” said Sami. “If he’s in the village we can see him tomorrow.”

“No! It must be tonight! There is no tomorrow!”

Sami knew when he’d pushed his holy bossman too far. He set his alarm for half an hour later – 4.12am – and went to sleep.

When the alarm went off, Guru Baba continued sitting, snoring.

Should I wake him or leave him? Sami wondered. He decided he’d better wake him, or there would be trouble.

Guru Baba tried to swat his hand away as if it were a fly. Then he opened one eye, then closed it and opened the other one, then suddenly both; they almost popped out. He said, “Are you ready to meet the man in the moon?”

“What do you mean?” said Sami. “We’ve been with him all night.” They had been watching, talking about, and walking around beneath the full moon. What more was there to do?

“No!” said Guru Baba. “You haven’t met him yet, you’ve just had an introduction. The real meeting is yet to come. Now go home quickly and change. This time into smart clothes. Do you have a suit? Yes? Good, wear it, with a tie and good shoes. Make sure they’re polished.”

“Do I have to, Guru Baba? It’s four-thirty a.m. It’s still dark, and I’m tired, and cold…”

“Do it! Go home and change! Come back by five a.m.”

Sami went home grudgingly. He couldn’t see the way ahead clearly and walked through the field’s boggiest parts. His boots became pretty muddy; he’d better be more careful when returning.

His suit needed ironing, but who would notice at this time? If anything, in these parts he’d get beaten up for looking too smart. He returned at 5.01am, ready to be scolded.

Guru Baba was in lotus position once again. He opened one eye and said, “Stand there in the middle of the field.”

The full moon beamed strongly. Sami stared up at it. It looked like a searchlight.

Guru Baba said, “Now turn around. Meet the most important person you’ve ever met.”

Sami turned around but there was no one there.

“Look at the ground.”

There was Sami’s shadow, long and deep and dark.

Guru Baba pointed at the glowing orb above them, and said, “Like the moon, you have light and dark sides. One is apparent and one is hidden. You must remain alert.” He pointed at Sami’s shadow. “You need to always be smarter than him, or he will become your master.”

Dirty Hairy Beast

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , on August 29, 2012 by javedbabar

Sami had witnessed many strange things with Guru Baba, his holy bossman, but tonight had beaten them all. He had been given the day off so that he could “work all night”, a night which involved walking around a boggy field, looking at the moon.

Guru Baba asked him, “Do you like animals? Yes, you do? But you don’t have any pets. You said that you had some when you were a child, but never since then. Why is that?”

“I had a goldfish first, then a tropical snail, then an iguana, and a blue budgie called Neelum, and a striped cat, Mr. Tiger, then a poodle named Biswas. Biswas bit me and my parents had him put down. After that I became scared of dogs, and most other animals with sharp teeth and claws.”

Guru Baba said, “Ahhh…” and then nothing more.

They looked at the moon. It was getting low and had acquired a red hue, the colour of bloody water. It made Sami feel sick; it seemed to be swirling.

“Are you scared of people too? They can be just as dangerous as animals.”

“Well, I guess if I met a murderer, I would be scared. But generally, no. It is animals’ teeth that frighten me really. I think they’re going to bite me.”

Guru Baba opened his mouth wide. His teeth seemed sharper than before. Was Sami’s mind playing tricks now?

“Who are you most scared of?” said Guru Baba. “Animals or humans?”

Sami noticed that Guru Baba’s eyebrows seemed very close together. His nails were sharp, and his ears low-set. He’d always sported a full beard, but now his cheeks and forehead seemed hairy too.

Sami saw movement in the forest beyond the field. He looked at the trees carefully, but couldn’t make out anything unusual. Then there was movement again. He saw a dark shape, and then another one, and then many more.

Sami became pale and said, “Guru Baba, I’m scared. There are animals moving in the forest around us. Can you see them? I think they could be cougars. They might attack us.” Lucerne was famous for its wildlife. Bears, coyotes, cougars and bald eagles lived in the forests and mountains around.

“It is not cougars, it is wolves. There are many around here. They gather at full moons.”

Sami saw that Guru Baba’s eyes were bright yellow.

He stood transfixed by his gaze.

Was he a shape-shifter or some sort of demon?

Sami tried to scream but nothing came out.

He tried to move but his feet remained rooted in the boggy field.

Then he growled and broke free.

Sami ran with a swinging stride and howled at the moon.

Each village has its traditions. Every harvest moon, Lucerne ran amok with werewolves. It was nothing to get upset about.

Creative Journey

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , , on August 11, 2012 by javedbabar

The man left the myriad reflections of the crystal cave and climbed again, braving the upper slopes of the dark mountain. He was above the tree line, negotiating bare rock patches and loose rocks. His groping caused a few rocks to tumble. Most rolled freely though some caused small slides. The chances of another person being below him were remote. He was unconcerned.

It took a full day of climbing to reach the top. It wasn’t pretty up there, just bare black rock with shattered masses, but the view down the valley was stunning. He saw the turquoise lake, down the black river, and the forests and fields along its sides. He couldn’t see Lucerne village because of a bend in the valley, but he saw the white mountain towering above it like a guard.

A week ago he had awoken atop this white mountain, unknown and alone, feeling compelled to reach its dark sister. Now he was here. To what end?

What should he do in this inhospitable terrain?

It seemed the end of a pointless journey.

There was nowhere else to go.

He saw a flat rock whose top flashed strongly. Its surface was flush as if carved by a master, and a mark upon it caught his eye. It was another petroglyph, like those he’d seen at the crystal cave indicating ascension and expansion, but his one was pointing in three directions at once – everywhere. What was its meaning?

A sunset ravished and hued the valley golden, then eased into bronze, then silver. The man from the mountain sat on the flat rock. He recreated his journey here – from the white mountain, to the village, past farms, along the river, through forest, staying at the strange steel cabin, four nights of passion at Samhala, exploring his soul’s facets at the crystal cave, and finally completing his ascent of the dark mountain.

Every journey has a purpose – it must have, otherwise why would you make it?

Either an overt one or a covert one.

A desire to reach or to escape something.

What was his purpose?

He had once met the holy man Guru Baba, who told him that “the journey is the destination”. He had never quite understood its meaning, but sitting on the flat rock, he realized that its inscription symbolized both his journey and destination.

He was wherever he was.

He was it.

He didn’t know if he fell asleep, or if he’d never woken, for when he opened his eyes he was on a white mountain with great views in most directions. He saw forests, lakes, rivers, and other mountains, including a dark one at the far end of the valley.

It was time to begin again. Would it be the same journey or a different one? That was for him to choose.

Ascension and Expansion

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , , on August 10, 2012 by javedbabar

I was tempted to stay in the crystal cave. Yes I’d found it by chance, on my way from the white mountain to the dark one, but I’d witnessed so many versions of myself refracted there that I could spend the rest of my life reflecting. The light was alluring and the forms were entrancing. Forever seemed a long time but also graspable. It would be easy to stay here, mesmerized.

I was distracted by a chink of light, and saw that the crystal before me held markings. They aligned as an equal-sided triangle. One edge was flat against me; the other two tapered to a point directed outwards. It was a message to move.

I recalled meeting a holy man called Guru Baba. He had told me about the Two Laws of the Universe. The Law of Attraction was “know what you want”, and the Law of Karma was “you get what you give” But he also said that Karma means action.

You cannot just sit on your ass, staring at your navel, thinking nice thoughts. Direction is required. Things don’t just happen of their own accord, they happen to you, because of you, via what you think, do, and say.

This recollection snapped me out of my daze. I took a long look around. There were reflections and refractions of my many facets. I saw the many me’s that were, are, and could be. Then I walked out of the chamber along the amber tube.

I thought about my journey thus far. I had awoken, unknown and alone, atop the white mountain, compelled to reach the dark mountain with the pulsing red star above it. I had gone to the village seeking shelter, but had instead been called an Abomination and chased out of town. I had wandered past farms, along the black river, and through the forest, till I reached a strange cabin, where I’d found a prophetic pioneer’s diary. The people of Samhala had welcomed and seduced me, and asked me to set a wooden man ablaze. I had been soothed by hot springs and found the crystal cave, which I was now leaving.

Why had these strange things happened? What was their purpose?

When I reached the cave entrance, I saw another petroglyph on the rock outside. I had walked the other way before, and must have missed it. It was a second equilateral triangle, this time pointing upwards.

The bearded elder of Samhala had spoken of the Tree of Life, whose energetic qualities were those of ascension and expansion. By journeying to the crystal cave, deep within the mountain, I had expanded my self-awareness. Now I must ascend.

Crystal Cave

Posted in Lucerne Village, Mystical Experience, Sacred Geometry, Unknown, World Myths with tags , , , , , , , , on August 9, 2012 by javedbabar

The forest spa was unexpected. He hadn’t imagined finding a moss-lined pool, fed by a hot spring, half way up the dark mountain. In truth he hadn’t known what to expect since he’d awoken, unknown and alone, atop the white mountain at the far end of the valley, and felt compelled to walk towards its dark sister.

It was tempting to stay camped there but he decided to continue climbing. The forest became lighter and it was dotted with small meadows, filled with red and blue flowers. He thought of the red hair and blue eyes of the girl in Samhala with whom he’d spent four nights.

There were hollows in a nearby bluff. His curiosity got the better of him and he approached the largest opening. He called out hello, and threw in some stones to scare out animals. A lone bat flew into view and disappeared again.

He walked in a few metres and stood for a while, allowing his eyes to adjust to gloom. He was surprised when the gloom disappeared quickly, easing into an amber glow. It reminded him of some fossils he’d seen when at school – insects encased in fiery light, which seemed still alive. There was an earthy sweet smell, reminiscent of a marine animal.

He saw that the cave was more like a tube, formed of translucent orange stone with hints of cherry and lemon. These colours vanquished darkness.

The smooth glowing tube invited his entry. Though he held no source of light, the amber light was sufficient by which to navigate. It was initially quite consistent but after a hundred metres began to dim. He considered going back, but decided to push on further in case the light improved. After a patch of near darkness the light increased rapidly. It went from smoky orange to amber, to tangerine, to pale resin.

The amber tube opened into a vast crystal chamber. The man from the mountain said, “My God!” and then was dumbstruck. White crystals were oriented in every direction, some the size of fingers and others as big as trees, growing upwards, downwards, horizontally, and diagonally. It seemed that they were supporting each other, battling each other, pointing and lifting. These countless crystals had endless facets, refracting and reflecting. Within them the man saw many differing facets of himself.

He was a child, an adult, and an old man, all at once.

He had masculine and feminine sides.

He was a father, brother, and son.

He was loved and hated…

Known and unknown…

Together and alone…

He was sane and insane…

Dreaming and awake.

The man from the mountain was all of these things, yet had in truth transcended them. These many versions of himself were concentrated into this one present version. He saw both the microscopic structure and the macroscopic shape of his crystal self. There was an orderly pattern repeating in all spatial dimensions.