Category: Fragments
I. The Pillar and the Mirror: Foundations of the 1–7 Axis At the heart of the natal chart, two points stand eternally opposed: the Ascendant, marking the horizon where day begins, and the Descendant, where the sun falls and night gathers. This axis, linking the First and Seventh Houses, is not merely the spine of…
I. The Fool’s Threshold At the edge of every journey, at the border between the known and the abyss, stands The Fool. In the Tarot’s first and final card, he strides forth, both careless or holy, radiant or naïve, but always accompanied. Most see the knapsack, the precipice, the flower. Fewer see the dog: the…
Time in apparitions is not linear but vertical. Between Nut and Mary, between pyramids and churches, runs the invisible thread of the Lady, the primordial Mother, Queen of Heaven, Mistress of the Womb and Abyss. In Coptic Egypt, where traditions do not die but only change names, Mary inherits the insignias of Nut: crown of…
If interested in a personal liturgy and reading, please consult this portal. At the moment Arthur Rimbaud entered this world, not only was a veil torn open, but an altar was ignited in flesh itself. His natal chart is not mere biographical decoration, but wound, and explosion. To understand the rare intensity of his path,…
The silence that covers the thrones is woven over centuries. In every era, the world holds its breath and asks: “Where is Sophia?”. Wisdom, whether persecuted, exiled, or veiled, is the secret measure of every cycle of humanity. Her absence marks the beginning of the fall; Her return heralds restoration. The invisible thread that stitches…
Some events serve not to comfort the flock, nor to reinforce the orthodoxy of temples. They tear the veil of the world and return the sacred to its primordial astonishment. The Coptic Marian apparitions are not miracles in any catechetical or pious sense; they are operational breaches in the wall of reality, visiting communities on…
In the silence of Egypt’s deep heart, among the warm stones of monasteries carved into the desert, there are faces that burn without moving. Icons. Not as liturgical ornaments, nor as pious souvenirs; they are living thresholds. Within them, a presence keeps watch. What is seen is no allegory, no portrait. It is the visible…
There are days that do not sit within the calendar, yet they burn beneath it. June 13 is one of these, a pressure point in the flesh of the invisible. It marks no simple nativity, but a faultline, a fissure where history breaks and the unspeakable seeps through. To call him “Pessoa” is to name…
Seven utterances from the Hollow Mountain, where the wind still speaks in tongues of vine and iron, and the soil remembers names no longer spoken aloud. It was said the Book would open by itself when the hour came.And lo, the Book cracked under its own breath —and from its pages leapt a flame of…
Throughout the history of metaphysical inquiry, from the Orphic hymns and Neoplatonic emanations to the radical intuitions of Kabbalah and tantric Sanskrit philosophy, the Divine has been imagined as both source and surplus, as center and circumference. This treatise proceeds from an axiom often left unspoken in mainstream theology: that the Sacred is not static,…
