Category: Fragments
In the shape of S (which, if considered closed, is 8, and, lying down, is equally serpentine, infinite), the Serpent includes two spaces, which it encircles and transcends. (The first space is the lower world; the second, the higher world.) In another serpentine figuration – that of the coiled snake, mouth biting tail – it…
The astrological map is a geometry of entrances. In every chart drawn since Babylon, four gates define the edifice of fate: Ascendant, Imum Coeli, Descendant, Medium Coeli. The ancients named these the angles, pillars on which the temple of the soul stands. They open, in every birth, the cardinal directions through which Spirit assumes form,…
The ancients named the Moon the lesser luminary, but through the velvet vault of night she reigns by borrowed splendour, clothed in gold shed by the day’s sovereign. To follow the lunar cycle is to enter a labyrinth of reflection, where everything luminous finds its source elsewhere, and all that glides in shadow carries the…
Each grain that settles on an altar, every crust of wax forgotten at the base of a candlestick, speaks in a tongue older than written prayer. There are quarters that remember hands, spaces that crave the cadence of ritual touch, the circulation of water, the faint spirals of incense at dawn. In Provence, Martha confronts…
When the night has folded the world into its silent cloak, a tremor may traverse the soul: shivering that begins somewhere deeper, where absence whispers and memory is in embers. Delirium tremens, in the language of physicians, describes a violent unraveling: a crisis that visits when the substance once invoked for relief is exiled, leaving…
In the dim chapel, upon marble that breathes the centuries, the script carves its wound: Tuam ipsius animam pertransibit gladius. The phrase, lifted from the Gospel according to Luke, echoes as a living sigil. This is the sword that passes through the soul, the gladius announced to Mary by the lips of the aged Simeon.…
A Collective and Lunar Oracle at the Heart of the Lion If interested in a personal liturgy and reading, please consult this portal. A new Moon has dawned beneath the coiling mane of Leo, as flame met flame in the mansion of fixed fire. On this night, four cards have been drawned by candlelight, the…
Night leans over the garden; dawn delays behind a horizon of stone. Within the hush that veils the tomb, a figure pauses, unadorned by myth and yet unclaimed by history. Her hands carry myrrh, her eyes the ache of having seen what is forbidden to name. It is she whom the scriptures conceal and, yet,…
Certain thresholds exist only to be preserved. In the most solemn chambers of the Sacred, meaning gathers in the very act of withholding; presence folds itself behind silence, and the highest reverence is found in not transgressing the veil. Among the many images of the hidden Divine, few bear such weight as the scene near…
In certain texts, reading is a ritual immersion in the mineral tides that underlie the world’s ephemeral surface. Among such works, Stoner by John Williams stands as a winter bloom in the withered field of American prose; austere, withholding, and strangely radiant in its refusal of spectacle. It resists the hunger for epiphany. Nevertheless, as…
