Moving in waves above sandbanks and mountain chains, the weaver was first a dream dreamt by the matter of the universe. From the core of the earth she was connected with the world of concrete. Living many lives spinning her own and others dreams and weaving them into patterns she cares for. Where do they begin and where do they end? Entangled in the worlds of dreams and the world…
A drop dripped into me and I am a drop dripping. Drop, drop dripping life. I’m a drop in and of all the oceans. Clouds. Swamps. Ponds. Lakes. Streams. Rivers. I’m a drop landing on a leaf, rolling down the leaf, falling, flying through the air, landing on the next leaf. Landing, rolling, falling, flying till I land on the forest floor. I collect. I lose myself in something. I…
I feel there’s the (w)Hole universe encapsulated in gifts received from you and through you… Sword-Weaver, water Drops, Flame-voice, dancing lady (Sun)Death, Journey in a little bottle… Evening after, Sister asked me what the most transformative experience was? Well, dear Sister, it was our Union rituals of shadow&light: one by one, air by air, each poetic self…
A year has passed since the academy manifested in Copenhagen. Some of us are still here. Are you? The shadows fall differently in the autumn, as the sweet tast of summer takes leave. This is an invitation to gather, briefly, yet without haste. To mark the coming of the darkness of the season. Do you wish to leave something behind in this transition? Write it down on a note, or…
