Postmodern Hymn: I Am the Starlight

Big Star, by frecklefaced29

One of the final songs from the musical Starlight Express, by Andrew Lloyd Weber, is a sweet song about finding out that all the answers you seek come from within. 

The Starlight Express is a musical made for children: it tells the tale of toy cars who come to life. Rusty, the protagonist train, calls on the Starlight Express for help in winning a race. I got to see this musical when I was a child, and the magic of seeing people on roller skates, acting like trains, and singing with such hope has stayed with me all this time.

I think it's good every now and then to return to childhood fantasies and see the world again in a playful, hopeful way.

Calcinatio, Part II

The Fire, by Ricardo Cavolo
via Society 6

It seems my life is organizing itself by elemental themes these days. No sooner do I write a post on a ritual involving fire than my favorite astrologer, Rob Brezsny, posts a beautiful horoscope on the same subject. I'm keeping the Libra-specific post to myself, although you can find it or a different horoscope here. In the meantime, here's some fire-themed wisdom for you:

"Try this meditation: Imagine that you are the wood and the fire that consumes the wood.

First, focus your awareness on the part of you that is the wood. You may tremble or gasp, feeling the jolt of your solidity disintegrating, your form changing. As you shift your attention to the part of you that is the fire, you may exult in the wild joy of power and liberation.

It may be tempting to favor the fire over the wood, to love the burning more than the being burned. But if you'd like to understand pronoia in its fullness, you've got to appreciate them equally. Can you imagine yourself being the fire and wood simultaneously? Is it possible for you to experience the deep pleasure of their collaboration?"

    —excerpt from PRONOIA Is the Antidote for Paranoia: How the Whole World Is Conspiring to Shower You with Blessings, by Rob Brezsny

Sacred Space: Impermanent Gifts

Danmala, by Kathy Klein
via Colossal

What is it about us humans that makes us want to rearrange natural objects into patterns? When I find myself in a beautiful setting, sometimes the most natural thing to do seems to be to make some sort of "offering" to the beauty I find myself surrounded by. An arrangement of shells, in some attempt to align my own perspective with the greater landscape. An arrangement of rocks, as a greeting to others, a sign of recognition that my own perspective can blend with others'. 

Kathy Klein's danmalas are a good example of this kind of art. Visit her gallery to see a quilt of technicolor patterns, all created from flower petals. She describes "centering" herself and creating the art in a state of devotional silence. The designs she creates seem to pulsate from the blending of her state of mind with the natural matter she works with.

Some of my favorite art is the kind that is meant to be impermanent. There's something so poignant about making something, knowing that when you leave it behind, it will eventually be returned to the earth. There's something beautiful, too, in leaving the art to be discovered for others who happen to be passing by. I sometimes want to hoard everything that's beautiful, and making something that can be left behind is a good exercise in sharing and letting go, even if a photograph allows us to hold onto the art in some sense!

Shell Offering by me

Bringing Forth What Is Within

via Vintage Fan Girl

Elaine Pagels has been making the rounds to publicize her latest book on the Book of Revelation, and in listening to and reading some of her interviews, I've been reminded of her past work with gnostic texts. One of her favorite passages from the Gospel of Thomas is also one of my favorites:

"If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you."

How's that for a short Easter message? What a beautiful celebration and affirmation of life! The message fits with so many philosophies that inspire me. Allow what's within you, whether it's shadowy or angelic, to be integrated within you, and you will be reborn, and you will see the world with new eyes.

Dancing Storm Spirit

Floating Corset, by Frances Pellegrini
via Biddington's

"Praised be this wild, good, free spirit of the storm, which dances upon swamps and afflictions, as upon meadows! . . . Lift up your hearts, you good dancers, high! Higher! And do not forget the goodness of laughter! This crown of laughter, this rose garland crown: to you my brothers do I throw this crown! Laughing have I consecrated; you higher men, learn, I pray you - to laugh!" 

  —Friederich Nietzsche in Thus Spake Zarathustra, "The Higher Man," #20 

This quotation is partially the inspiration for "the Dancing Alchemist," both the name and the focus of the blog. There's something almost Taoist about the storm spirit's affirmation of all conditions, and there's something magically alchemical about laughter being able to transform the one who laughs, through affirmation, to embrace all circumstances. Isn't that part of the Great Work, to take joy in life as it is given?

Destino

A collaboration between Dali and Disney, which I find incredibly beautiful.

The original collaboration was completed in 2003, after Disney's nephew found the storyboards and 17-second clip and saw the project through to completion. It received an Oscar nomination for Best Animated Short Film.

Postmodern Hymn: Free Will

I love it when a song I've heard before suddenly leaps out as a revelation. That's what happened with the chorus to "Free Will" by Rush:

"You can choose a ready guide in some celestial voice. 

If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice. 

You can choose from phantom fears and kindness that can kill; 

I will choose a path that's clear- 

I will choose Free Will."

I don't so much feel like I don't have free will, but I don't particularly live with the agency that free will promises. I have so many cases of indecisiveness in any given day that it's ridiculous; I think this song may become my new mantra!

Apocalypticism

The metaphorical end is truly coming. Are you prepared?

The Pretend Is Near, by Nick Nelson

What if we put our energies into the pretend, the future-now, instead of the usual future end time?

Witnesses of Tolerance

Tolerance, by Jaume Plensa
via glasstire

Driving through Houston, you may discover the seven sculptures of Tolerance by Jaume Plensa. At night, they are illuminated and sit like peaceful guardians, keeping watch over the city.

The figures are composed on individual letters. The artist grew up with a love for books and sees each letter as a symbol of the individual. Together, the letters come together to create language, culture, and humanity. 

Temple of Learning

painted and embroidered allegorical picture, by Maria Crowninshield
via Salem in History

If there's one thing I believe in, it's learning and community. I think learning from each other is one of the most powerful acts of love and affirmation there is. I see images like this, and think about Mary Wollstonecraft arguing for equality around the same time, and I feel so grateful for all the opportunities I have to learn, and to learn from other women. 

Some things I've learned lately from teachers of mine:

• laugh—it shakes up any bitterness that may be starting to set in
• go slower than you think is necessary, and time will open up
• invite others to tea—it is one of the best conversation potions out there

Early to Bed

Sleeping Beauty, by Roberto Innocenti
via Fairy Tale Mood

I'm a night owl. If I could, I would stay up later and later each night, because my internal clock seems to have thirty hours in a day instead of the real twenty-four. The truth is, I can never quite believe that I've done enough in a day. Thus, I'm beginning a new practice—intentionally going to bed early—to affirm that I've spent my day well and that all I can do is honor each moment as it comes.

I Wanted It Thus

I wanted it thus, by yours truly

Here's a little drawing I did last year around this time. I think it suits the Halloween season. With all the imagery of death and living dead, I think it's a good time to ponder the "eternal return" . . . can you affirm that you would relive this moment exactly as it is?

"For all joy wants itself, therefore it also wants heart's agony! O happiness! O pain! Oh break, heart! You Higher Men, learn this, learn that joy wants eternity, 

joy wants the eternity of all things, wants deep, deep, deep eternity!"

    —Thus Spoke Zarathustra, by Friedrich Nietzsche