"Infinite Elements" July 14, 2024

The results of Vogel's vision of the Tree of Life and his summons to me and his other allies continues to unfold as I encounter allies both old and new within the territories of the Mythica, this time on a campground called "Catoosa" in the midst of what is known as Tenneesee on the terrasphere of Gaia.

I am invited by a new ally, a character James has spoken about in the past who secures me a spontaneous ticket to the event with an agreement that he will provide me with both the flight to the campground and back in exchange for my presence and help with his project.  Recognizing it to be yet another aspect of my service to the Great Tree, I get on the plane, considering it a new chapter of the Mythica's unfoldment.

"You have to come out here" says the Jester King, offering to pay for a midnight ticket from the western coastlines towards a piece of sacred land known as Catoosa in the verdant fields of Tenneesee …

I snap a photo of myself on the plane, wearing a Hogwart's t-shirt and scrawling my Quest upon the Mirrorfine.  It is how I appear on the surface of the world at this time.

Yet beneath the surface in the territories of the Mythica I’m also this, clad in my rainment and eternal visage, surrounded by books and the mists of story, my wolf by my side.  Such is the nature of my myth and meaning, the sacred function that I bring to the Age as a champion of Story.

The Shambhavi Synchronicity

It's the quality of vibration that strikes me at first …

All arrivals in the field are vibrational, and my new friends appearance sitting next to me is no exception.

Passing Parnassus

Over the years i've come to trust the sense of divination that comes through my photography, where sometimes the meaning is known immediatley and sometimes it's not.  This was the case when I walked into Parnassus books to recharge myself with the energy of the story.  Later, I would look up the reminder of it's substance online and would discover – "Mount Parnassus, also Parnassos, is a mountain of limestone in central Greece. It is north of the Gulf of Corinth. According to Greek mythology, this mountain was sacred to Apollo and the home of the Muses."

It is the thing itself, of course.  The manifestation of the mythos through the mundus.  The bookstore is not just named Parnassus, for in the combination of it's essence and my own it IS Parnassus, the blessed place of Apollo and the Muses and their expression in the modern myth

July14th, 2024 – Catoosa

The Jester King

It is a chaotic divination, one wrought from the objects of the moment, and I love it for it is wild, metallic and flush with new relations, yet in the offering there is an undercurrent.  A schema of subtle threads which opens with the shaper's color stained fingers …

Return to the Waters, into the pure intention of the self

I never really danced for attention.  For me it's the purity of the entry, the depth of my intention and how that moves across my skin.  While I have always been aware of the subtle pushes and pulls within the chemistries of movement upon the floor, my relationship with Terpsichore has always been one that started from the inside out.  To come to the lake at this time, feeling the extra weight on my body and the tiredness from so many hours at a desk, is an initiation, a baptism of rebirth towards the dancer I was and always will be.

It is so soothing to be in the Green.  To be outside the constant hammering of the WIFI and the screaming of Blaine the Train just outside the apartment I share with Cassandra in what is known as 'Silicon Valley'.  To be in the cooling waters feels to be a healing, flush with the vital energies pulsing through the leypoint of the Mother that is Catoosa herself.

Approaching the Golden Gates

Every one of the flickering realms is different, made from the stages and spellworks of their casters.  In this case, a pair of golden arches marks the pathway into the forest through a medley of merchants, and I recognize it to be the liminal portal into the mystical environments invoked within the space.

Such are the geometries of story, the iconography of map-markers which sit across the worlds and invoke the shift within …

This will be my first live meeting with Jeff Skellern, the shaper King introduced to me through Vogel's visioning and whom I have been in service, helping to clarify his and the expanded ideas of their fellows.

The characters of the Mythica have always occurred for me as the embodiments of the elements themselves, as the royalties and peasantries of the current Age.  As I witness Jeff in this manner, I feel such a thing, a strength of Earth and Fire thick with the  aka of the Maker.  It is a thing I feel strongly in James as well, the ability to create temples and kingdoms from the very substance of the land.

Grotto of the Gods

The music plays out beautifully within the cavernlike ampitheatre, the silent between the beats measured by the soft sound of pure Water pouring through the rocks …

There is a fae singer of note that I feel in the space,

And the fae's song is beautiful …

The Jester King

It's the in-face meetings that matter the most, and as I feel the Jester in the field the scent of ancient kingships moves across the space, of Makers and Crafters in the shifting tymes.

There is a magic to chaos words, to things of shifting timbre and meaning, whose very sound within the space opens portals to the akasphere where such things reside.

It is the High Speech, and I am thankful for it, wrought with the colors of his aka in his delivery of his myth.  I feel my language adjusting to meet him, my own aspect shifting to match his gravity in the ethers between.

Yet it is chaos magic, and filled with the karmic detritus of unresolved ego.   I notice it clearly when I mention the word "Need" in a sentence and witness as the Jester immediately tries to correct me, the gravitas of his intention to dominate through words feeling like a crash of muddy water across the sky.

My nose wrinkles at the taste of it, and I sense a red flag.   Of all the follies that define the Age of Delerium I am perhaps most aware of the distortions around the aka of kingship that play out as conquest masquerding as camaraderie, and I sensed this quality beneath his words, flush with a cleverness and majesty that held a gleam of something only still half-remembered through the haze. Nonetheless, I engage, for there is magic here and the hope that it will come to a bright tomorrow.

We walk down the path, and as we do, I bring up the matter of my kinbrother Vogel and his distance from the gathering, speaking into the virtue of his channeling of the World Tree in the City of Stories.  In full transparency I cannot understand why James is regarding the opinion of this "Dila" so profoundly,  but I will play the role for now.

July 15th, 2024 – Meeting of Kings

The element of Earth is so strong in these moments, it's gravity radiating off of our triad's assembly upon the Unconstitutional …

At the time, it feels noble, like we are meeting together as the kings of the emergent Age, bringing forth the gifts and magics that are our aspect in the Great Story.  Yet over time I will come to see the distortions and ignobility that define the challenges of this Age once more, creating a sharp contrast to the feeling of magic and elemental expansion that exists in this place.

Ritual Preparations

Paths through the Forest

So many times i've wandered through the shaped landscapes of the flickering realms

Words and Wonder by the Crossroads

Journey into the Mythica always involves the arrival of characters, beings of embodiment from the various mythologies of the mortal plane.

Infinite Ether Stage – Leaders of the New World

I meet Natural at the golden gates.  It has been years since i've seen him, our last encounter being during "Lions of Law" on the island of Maui in 2019.

Like the appearance of all characters within the Mythica, Natural's arrival is significant, revealing the shared geometry of karmic threads that connects us all.  It is what I designed the Mythica to showcase, to help the people see the skein of timelines that weaves us together in shared pain and purpose, each playing our role upon the landscape of our shared stories.

Thomas

I like this Thomas.  The Art that moves around him carries the aka of both the artist and the producer.  The sigil of the Tree adorns his ring, and I sense a confluence between our spirits, a kinship in the boughs and branches of our stories across the skein.

In the mystic arts we often speak of the idea that our outer reality is a reflection of our inner, that the way our world arranges itelf in the nimbus of our shape is directly related to who we are on the inside.  As I walk from the purity of the forest towards the ramshackle debris that makes up the chaotic territories of the Jester King, it is a sharp contrast to the soft tent flaps of the priestesses and the assembled characters.

Bards & Dragons

The way the aka of the world play out on the surface of the Mundus is deeply significant, speaking to the purpose and placement of our characters within the skein.

As night falls I make my way back to the encampment and continue to discover more of this new king in the field.

The energies with the Jester King are undeniably brilliant, flush with layer upon layer of semantic mathematics and thick with the texture of a life fully lived, and it is inspiring to be in it's radiance.

I am fascinated and intrigued by his tales, thick with the legislations and legend of the artists way, and sense a depth and fullness of experience in valiant exploration of what life has to offer.  There is magic here, and a powerful one, flush with the aka of words and metal.

His talent is so beautiful, and our parley moves across the octaves of the current world to the underpinnings of form that give shape to our individual magics.  There is such awareness here and high intent, yet there is something else as well.  Something twisted on itself.  Something which pushes and challenges and cajoles, seemingly intent on seeing how it can be more clever than the world.

After a time the musicians depart, and I encounter a new character in the form of a traveling poet named Romulus …

Understanding the geometries of story takes a viewpoint into the underpainting of the world.  It's a process i've often likened to being on a ship approaching new islands on the horizon radiant with certain energies.  Such was the case when I encounter Romulus the Bard soon after my quick spellwork into the musical realms with the Jamguru and his beloved …

Fae Fellowships

In the films of the Hollywood there are scenes where old allies arrive in confluence and retell the stories of how they met in epic circumstance.  Such was the nature of my encounter with Atreya who was once known as 'Tre' when we had first met in the faerie forests of "Livingwell" fourteen years previous.  That such happened here in the synchrony of my being drawn to Catoosa and the unfoldment of the Mythica's storyline is the pure nectar of the Holy Wood made manifest.

Like myself, Atreya is a guardian of Gaia – an elemental being wrought from the raw substance of the primal worlds which exist patiently beneath the surface of what is currently called society, and to encounter him here, in this context, is the very substance of legend itself, the engagement of avatars of the elemental world meeting each other in their place of power.

The earth-king Guru arrives and gives his offering to the Fire …

Kings and Queens

I am offered the opportunity to drive a trio of women from the site back to the airport two hours away for $300, and agree to it, wishing to gather funds upon the Quest in my sacred function as a charioteer between the realms ….

We leave soon after midnight ….

July 16, 2024 – KITCHEN OF THE GODS, Meeting the Priestess

There are times when the surface of things dissolves, distilling into the pantheon of archetypes that move our substance from within.  It plays out for me as the very essence of form itself, the elements arranged into the containers of sinew and story that make up the characters we play upon the world stage.  Such was the nature of my morning as I came to the kitchen tent and witnessed the geometries of story unfurl.

Again a vision of the Mythica comes through the Mundus, and I see the jester, the priestess and the warrior as they exist in the prototypical realms of story ….

The actions of the jester king are rude, uncaring of the sublte layers of intention and manifestation that I see streaming off of the yellow-robed priestess.  His movements feel like a cloud of dystopian gravity defined by the gravity of it's own self and heedless of the boundaries or feelings of others.  While I am kind and respectful I do not trust it.

As a worldwalker, I am aware that there is a protocol to moving between the worlds within the woods.  There are dominions and dimensions whose nature requires it's matching to move within it's terrain.  One must be limber in their walk.

Entering realms is a thing of law.  Of the bindings and agreements that hold a space together which are the spellwork of a worldmaker.  As I scanned the geometry of lines across the sacred land and the aka of the assembled pantheon I felt the spells shape, the ways in which it funneled the energies through the curvatures of Gaia's form into spirals of gravity.

It's magic is like a bubble.  There's a membrane that exists at the edge of a realm, one intimately tied to the steward of that realm which must be respected, for it defines one's entry into that domain.  Such was the nature of the spellwork I felt when I encounter the high priestess Krystallin.

The Misuse of Metal

Something happens in the morning that makes me realize all is not right in the jesters mind.

He hovers over me, pantomining that he is stabbing at me with an actual metal knife.  I don't like the scent of it.  It tastes like iron and madness.  Behind him, both Marisa and Atreya go quiet, their eyes watching the scene unfolding in their role as guardians of the land.

I meet their eyes and speak firmly to the clown.  "I'd appreciate if you didn't do that as i'm considering kicking your knees out."

Again he pushes the edge, miming that if he fell the knife would fall upon me.  "What would you do then?" he asks, as if holding a knife at someone were a laughing matter.

"I would catch your wrist" I say calmly, yet keep myself at the ready.  There is danger here, and I can feel it.  While I do not fear a direct physical attack, I sense a mind that has held romance with chaos and which has lost it's grip on right and wrong.

I consider what to do.  The vibrations of the Jester King are flush with the jagged blacks and reds that I seen painted onto his claws, reminding me of a playing card abandoned in the rain covered in dirt.  Seeking the solace of Nature, I wanderwalk through the forest, feeling my aspect occuring in the subtle world beneath the soil.  Here, the weights of time and mortality fade away, and I feel myself in my aspect, flush in the realms of story that underlie all things.

So often have I been tasked to correct the imbalances in the Round Table, and this is no exception.  While I find the Jester King's antics disharmonious and disrespectful I see the aka which sit beneath them, the chains of karmic which restrict the man he could be from being seen.

I can feel the geometries of story beneath the surface. The progress of the aka moving through the various characters as we move towards the New Age.  While it looks like a medley of people meeting in the sacred landscapes of Catoosa on the surface I see our confluence as a gathering of light, a harmonic of geometric forms resonating wtih the tones of an emergent world.

It is through our actions that we change these patterns, stepping into the deeper revelation of our own true selves.  Yet in this instance I fear there can be no transformation, for it seems the fool king lacks the necessary blend of awareness and humility to invoke it's movement.

Deconstructing underland

I like this Marisa.  She holds the aspect of the warrior and the healer, and is unafraid to do the work necessary to build her world within and without.  Offering a tithe to the high priestess of the space I volunteer to help Marisa deconstruct one of the realms within the expanse.

In my experience there's a relationship between where we are and what we're doing, about how the path and the purpose intertwine along the rainbow road.

I take a moment here to devour the bit of noodles and chicken given to me by the Jester King as part of my passage to this place, avoiding the thick and heavy vibrations of the chicken both out of personal preference and deference to the vegetarian ideal of Chrstalin's invocation for the event.

The path leads me down to the half-cave which held the fae musicians and where I encounter yet another avatar in the form of a bubble-wielding magician.

IMG_7569.heic

Clarifying the Mundus and the Mythica is nuanced, for what occurs on the surface of the world is ITSELF a thing of magic, it is only shallow eyes which view it as a shallow thing.  In this context, the magician blowing bubbles has great significance, for each action he takes is flush with the vibrational substance of his character and it's relationship with the elements of Life.

With his magic he breathes a bubble into the air, and I see it as the aspect of the world herself, as the membrance of colored sounds that makes up the Age of Delerium, a thing of beauty filled with smoke and shadow.

The wind takes it, smashing the mist-filled bubble into my face, and for a moment my world is made of rainbows and smoke.  I feel the nature of the mortal plane herself moving through me, my contest and acceptance of the haze of the Age of Delerium manifest in the Grotto of the Gods.

I shake it off, and invoke a small gratitude for the clarity which divines for me in the space.  The energy of the Dragon moves through the land, and as I witness the bubbles shifting before my gaze to contours reminiscent of the deva of the land …

A Bard's Calling

True to his word, Romulus hosts a poetry gathering in the grotto of the Gods, creating a workshop to help people with his understanding of poetry.  As per my usual mystic fugue I had forgotten that his event even existed, yet nonetheless I arrive in perfect synchrony with it, and find myself sitting next to a young tribal sorceress by the name of Greta …

The Golden Rabbit

There is a resonance with the girl, and we wander off from the poetry towards a pool of bubbling water a few meters away.  Here I see the sigil of the golden rabbit upon her ring and I sense a significance …

The journey into the Mythica is always archetypical, and is defined by the underlying geometries of our story.  As I sit by the waters with her I have the sense that I am breathing into the tantras of life, into the appreciation for both youth and wisdom as it exists in the space.  The golden rabbit ornamented upon her fingers inspires a vision, and I see myself moving into a new set of realms, into the role of an Elder magician both offering and receiving the mythos of the golden roads in the space between.

Her ring occurs as a symbol of the golden path through the underlands to me, and she kindly allows me to photograph it as we sit by the side of the waters …

The maiden wanders off, leaving me sitting by the edge of water, and I hear the voice of the Goddess bubbling before me …

As Greta moves off towards the poetry I turn my attention to the presence of the Goddess emanating in the pool.

It is always through the deva that we receive our wisdoms, for they are the source and substance of all forms.  Such is the divination I feel by the rippling waters, the play of shadows and light speaking the tongue of all things and their ripple across the ethers of what is.

I'm tentative.  While I feel the flushness of the Goddess all around me I have been sedentary for a long time and my footsteps are as secure I like them to be.

Aladriel's Song

Aladriel takes the stage, and I get to witness his songspell firsthand …

On Aladriel's invitation I take the stage, feeling the cleverwise moving through me, empowering my voice …

Once more I see the jester king's vascillation between chaos and kindness as he gently guides me to sit by the priestess who so admired the channeling of my Words.

Coyotes & Wolves

I return to the campsite and smell the metallic taste of assertion mixed with the fluttering of pages once more as the Jester King tries to coerce me into his will, citing the high ideals of the Burningman community in what is clearly an attempt to manipulate me to his ideas of community.  My hackles raise at it as a wave of both pity and disgust moves through my form.  The sense of a sculpture crumpled beneath it's own weight appears in my mindseye and I have the sense that I am encountering the distortions of the aka of Kingship once more.

He brings me to a nearby roadship made from as schoolbus.  In my hand I hold the remaining chicken in the container of food that was brought to me.  As it turns out the women of the bus have a dog, and in my resonance with the four-leggeds I offer to feed some of the chicken to them.  The Jester takes offense to this as he had given the food, yet I sense something deeper beneath, his coyote challenging my wolf.  I don't like it.  It reeks of the same attempted dominance that I had been feeling in the field.

I suppress the urge to show my teeth and say "Well it's MY food now.  And if I want to give it to the dog i'll do just that."

In response, he makes a weak lunge for the container and I pick it up quickly before he can snatch it and feed some chicken to the dog to emphasize my point.  As a kindness I give him the rest of the food.  It is a gentle reminder yet a clear one, and he slinks off with his tail between his legs.  There is going to be a problem here, I can smell it.

This is not the first time i've dealt with the distortiions in the aka of kingship and that of the alpha male, and without question recognize that it's appearance on the quest is related to my own portion of the distortion to heal.  In this there is a great understanding of the Mythica, for it shows the collective patterns we are moving through in a grounded and actionable way, for as the magician-kings of this Age we must find a shared freedom from the patterns of the past.

If the Chaos King realized the subtlety of his error he would not act in such a manner – for I sense his heart to be wide.  Yet I do not see him seeing the nuance of his own magic, that the heroic and rebellious kingship that has challenged the status-quo for so long has become heavy on his head, clouding his brow with a crown of tangled metal.

Kings of the Underworld

As I wander the path I encounter the man who'd appreciated my photography once more, packing up his truck ….

It's a deep sense of recognition that moves through me in the reflection, bringing with it a gravity of sensation which speaks to the shape of excellence itself.

Night falls, and as she does I partake of some of the mushrooms gathered on the Quest, feeling the intelligence of the Nature deva moving through me in the process.  The Mundus unveils itself, and I see the myth beneath the mundane unfurl.  Here Jo's headlamp vanishes and the words of his shirt blend into a mystic symbol, the silver of a crown circling his brow in a wash of hard-won wisdom.

"You're the real thing" Jo says, "Of the line of Solomon", and I nod gently in reflection.  The sense of the ancient Judaic lines comes through again, and I feel us both in both the current and past times sharing the directness and clarity of accomplishment.  There is an immediate sense of honesty that I like, one which is not grasping at the food like the fallen jester but rather one of firmness and the rule of law.

He does not care for the approach of the Jester King, and neither do I.  There is a sense of privilege about it mixed with the stink of desperation, where the idea of charity has blended with obligation into a mud.  As I stand in the moonlight in my golden cloak, it feels like yet another meeting of ancient Kings, this time touched by the realms of the ancient Judaic line.

Guardian of the Goddesses – Sonic alchemy

Feeling again as the Guardian, yet also in the tantric role of facilitation & weaving with the Masculine/Feminine energies with the star-elf Destinee and the priestess I was introduced to by the Jester.

Imps and Silence

My powers are particularly enhanced when I partake of psylocibin, and in this case, I feel my place and purpose as an avatar of Divine observance, witnessing the peoples arriving at the fire to weave and wield their magics beneath Tre's watchful gaze.

There's a delicacy to holding space, one which works the balance between assertion and reception and is deeply colored by the elements that are our aspects.  As I witness the firekeeper moving around the circle, the burning nature of his intensity and the tone of fire within him feel jagged to me, obscuring the voices of the people he seeks to inspire.

At one point, witnessing the imbalance of Fire I try to tell my elemental brother but his own fiery essence rebels, snapping at me as he returns once more to the source of his power.

Sitting with Shakti

His response is disheartening, and I feel my value disrespected.  Recognizing the uselessness of trying to share a refinement on his elemental imbalance in service to his position as a firetender I walk the paths beneath the moon, heading towards the pool of the Goddess that embraced me earlier in the day.

The song of the Water is so soothing in comparison to the raging Fire at the circle above, and I feel it calming my nervous system, gradually reducing the karmic repetitions of my agitation towards the firekeeper for the way I felt they spilled their fire onto me.  I feel the voice of the deva all around me and consider Vogel for a moment, writing him a quick text to let him know that he has not been abandoned to the outer reaches and that I hold him close to my heart.

Sacred Bedding

The Goddess provides as my path leads me away from the fire and the tremors of disappointment in being unreceived by my brother in Fire dissolve behind me as I find a small place of bedding woven with the glyphs of the moon and water.  I sense the touch of the Tree around the bedding, and with a quick sniff into the ethers feel that whomever owns it is a soul with which I have alliance.  Casting a thankfulness to the Lady, I stretch out on the bedding casting my gaze to the stars.

Leaving the Land

Feeling the great resonance with Aladriel in the aka of the bardic druid I make sure to connect with him.  I like him.  There is a gentle resonance that moves through him which speaks to the tones of the Ancient and the Galactic at once, and his invitation to this "Mandala Springs" is flush with the expansive scent of the tree.

Sign of the Lunar Moth

Totemic qualities of Luna Moth – change, transformation, the divine feminine, spiritual enlightenment, inner guidance, intuition, adaptability, or connection with nature

"Undeniable rarified magic in your face" – Cassandra

Starflower

I love roadships.  There is a magic of sovereignty of traveling across the asphalt sea in one's own vessel, and each captain's ship is their own.  Like the beings I already encountered in this place, the scent of Judaic magic is thick in the air …

Such encounters in the mortal plane are so fascinating, for they speak always to the nature of the aka of our Quest.  My path through the underlands sought the realms of health and wholeness, of the gentle healing of the Goddess upon my bare foot and the new technologies which spoke to a vital life.

In the context of the New Earth, such are the codes of consciousness made from aka which sit beneath the surface of the Mundus.  What looks like a white bus on the surface of the world is much more, for it is made of the vibrational substance of vitality itself, the real version of a mystical ship traveling the Black Ocean of the sideway highways towards faraway lands.

The aka of health and wholeness are radiant throughout the Starflower, playing out in the many artifacts her captain has collected which create an immersive field of life-force throughout the vessel.

• —

As we continue into the mountains doubt creeps into me, and I realize that given my trust in the presentation of the jester king that I have no tent.  The question as to whether I have made a foolish manuever in the flush of my inspiration to move towards the realms of health and wholeness on the Starflower comes up, and I feel a brief rush of panic that I have erred in my way, yet I breathe into the sensation of it and begin sending out feelers to the allies that have gathered around me, following the lines of energy which arrived with Vogel's divinations so many weeks before …