I’m up at [café] on a Friday, finding myself otherwise free. I’m glad to say I framed the Morrigan blessing I received from Morpheus for supporting The Book of the Great Queen. I’ve placed it behind _______. On its own, it fills in on the altar nicely—the cherry wood frame working well, and I suppose it’s almost Saintly icon-like, but without the queer sense of Otherworldly guilt saints, Jesus, and so forth produce, as I think about it. It’s as if my sense of the Morrigan as empowering being, her concern for self-possession—her blessings and benediction, seem,—well, I imagine the old pagan days versus Catholic icons versus what Protestants felt/saw.
When I light the candle, in the dark, the shadow _______-as-the-Goddess casts shrouds the Morrigan’s eyes, and the shadow otherwise suggests to me the ways, the paths of the shadow to the real I saw in the Riddle of the Shadow. As if the shadows—yes—points to the Morrigan, or at least the icon that points to the Morrigan.
Morpheus notes how investing an icon for devotion concretizes the god’s Presence into the icon as a focus, while devotion otherwise tends to render the Presence more ephemeral, more haunting-like, less localized. And that has its own experience,—
Mind you, that sense of Presence probably freaked out Xians, still freaks out people—the Presence of churches. Jesus prints that people hang and invest with their attention.
But I also think of Presence for incarnate beings, my own Presence, and I think about ___’s Derridean notion of the Presence in the Pope and the Queen. And I remember that Presence involves attention, locality and occupying and claiming a physical space, and the projection of self and the sensing of others of that Presence.
There’s something here, a presence mingling under the people here. I think it’s more the genius locus, more the old [New Age shop that used to be here] and the building and history than anything else.
I wandered around campus for a bit, and I realized I was doing so in a dream—not a lucid dream, but a distracted dream that I fought against. In part, part of it was the [uni] campus and the old geometries and architectures, mental, magical, and otherwise of my experience with that campus. My experientiality of [uni] is one that lends itself to that kind of dreaming (day dreaming, but distracted and the old, usual kind). In part, as I tried to discretely align on the bus ride home was the lack of alignment I had—I felt the difference in attention almost immediately, and even my ability to see the Otherworlds seemed to come into focus.
I feel often I have to throw off the dross of the week when Friday comes, after a week of [work] and the adoption of the personas I’ve adopted—
The geometries of—well, the Otherworldly geometries I’ve been seeing and what I found myself falling into today make me wonder if what I’m seeing is what I’ve been trying to escape from in regards to Hardûun. I’m becoming aware of it, as it were. But I’ve also felt myself on the edges of it, of those paths, when relaxed and spelling—as if I were supposed to go there to some degree, but, well, I’m not sure.
Image: Mnemosyne by Dante Gabriel Rosetti