On Being the Opposite of a Moth: The Grail, or Something Like It

My header image is based upon the 1513 engraving The Knight, Death and the Devil, by Albrecht Dürer. The header contains a hidden alchemical message: in the center of the circle at the extreme right is the alchemical symbol for lead, while higher up in the center of the opposite circle towards which the knight is riding is the alchemical symbol for gold. The knight on his journey to transformation might be mockingly escorted by Death with his hourglass and the horned Devil with his pikestaff, but his guiding angel is always with him to help him keep a steady hand on the reins of his steed and to urge him forward.

REVELATIONS: The End of Time

The Book of Revelation by John of Patmos is a book of visions. By turns wondrous, nightmarish and bizarre, it describes the destructive end of the world and a new beginning. John's visions read like reports from other realities, and have inspired artists from Dürer to Turner. My own interpretation features the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, the Number of the Beast and the Whore of Babylon, set to the music of Nagual Art. Clicking on the image takes you to the End of Days. (Right click opens a new tab.)

A Deeper Kind of Slumber

Robin Goodfellow,
Dianae, my muse.
Morpheus in my heart,
Your sand in my veins.
It's a deeper kind of slumber.
What is the universe anyway
But a pouch of silver coins.
The intense breathing
Of a dying animal.
A foreboding of afterlife,
Master keys in an oaken chest.
The somewhere is mine
And from there I'll continue.
All I asked for was a little love.
Meet me on the other side,
Where as a rose I will wake.
Though blind I'll follow
Every step you take.
Dianae, my muse,
Dianae, my solitude.
Cease to exist,
Rise to exist no more.
It's a deeper kind of slumber.

Johan Edlund
of Tiamat

Leaning into the Afternoons

Leaning into the afternoons, I cast my sad nets towards your oceanic eyes. There, in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames; its arms turning like a drowning man's. I send out red signals across your absent eyes that wave like the sea, or the beach by a lighthouse. You keep only darkness my distant female; from your regard sometimes, the coast of dread emerges.

Leaning into the afternoons, I fling my sad nets to that sea that is thrashed by your oceanic eyes. The birds of night peck at the first stars that flash like my soul when I love you. The night gallops on its shadowy mare, shedding blue tassels over the land. Leaning into the afternoons, I cast my sad nets towards your oceanic eyes.

Pablo Neruda
Translated by W.S. Merwin

Sweet Space: lyrics

O braided dusks of the oak,

and woven shades of the vine,

While the riotous noon-day sun

of the June day long did shine

Ye held me fast in your heart

I held you fast in mine;

While the riotous noon-day sun

of the June day long did shine.

Beautiful glooms, soft dusks

in the noonday fire,

Wildwood privacies,

closets of lone desire,

Chamber from chamber parted

with wavering arras of leaves,

Cells for the passionate pleasure

of prayer to the soul that grieves,

Prayer to the soul that grieves.

And when terror and shrinking

and dreary unnamable pain

Drew over me out of the merciless miles,

merciless miles of the plain.

Oh, now, unafraid, I am fain to face

That sweet face of space.

To the edge of the wood I'm drawn,

Where the gray beach glimmering runs,

as a belt of the dawn,

Where the gray beach glimmering runs,

as a belt of the dawn.

Adapted from Sidney Lanier's poem
'The Marshes of Glynn'

About My Featured Book

Savage Girls and Wild Boys:
A History of Feral Children.
by Michael Newton

Both poignant and disturbing, this book relates seven case studies of children who purportedly grew up in the wild, were raised by wolves, or were the victims of domestic neglect so extended and extreme that their circumstances and behaviour were little different from their feral counterparts. It is a sad fact that, having been rescued, these children seem afterwards to have led lives that were at times as troubled and as uncertain, if in very different ways, as their former neglected states.

What makes the book so compelling is the author's examination, not just of the children themselves, but also of these children's 'rescuers', these well-meaning individuals' reactions to their charges, and their sometimes conflicting motives for rehabilitating the children. In reading about both sides, we come to consider our own views, both of our romantic notions of 'The Wild', and of the conflict between apparently objective research and simple personal compassion.

Disclaimer

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Copyright of any material credited to Hawkwood remains with the author. The registered creative commons license below permits further use and distribution of Hawkwood's work subject to the three conditions: (1) The user attributes the work to 'Hawkwood', (2) The context is non-commercial, (3) The work remains unaltered. A link back to this weblog is appreciated.

Thursday, December 31, 2009

The Grail, or Something Like It

In his book about the *Grail, John Matthews makes the point that the quest for the Grail is never truly over. I would add that the reason for this is not so much that the Grail will never be found, but that what the Grail actually is, and what it represents, is different for those who quest after it. Sometimes we find what we are looking for, and sometimes we don't. And sometimes what we find is not that which we originally had sought.

Whatever it is that you seek, I hope that you may find it - or something very like it - in the year to come. And even if you do not do so, then I hope that your journey is still an interesting one.

A prosperous and rewarding 2010 to my followers, to my readers, and to all fellow bloggers!

Artist: Hawkwood
Work: The Quest, 1989 (digital version: December, 2009)
Medium: Acrylic, with digital elements
Location: Private collection

Source: *The Grail: Quest for the Eternal, by John Matthews. Thames and Hudson, 1981

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