As if in some twisted dream, I had sailed on a vehement howl back to my bedroom from the Home of Dragons. That vast expanse; a composition stringing together staccato mountains, singing melodies of Literati poetry, and structures risen with the strength of terracotta armies under the watchful minds of emperors.
What lush tradition was left in its wake yet a famine in the hollow of its people! Such is the dynastic jest of this world.
At every fork in the road there is a monster.
If we are made to fight monsters, we shall be valiant about it with a blazing glory emanating from our heart centres.
O! The strength it takes to keep a tender heart!
Let this be a parable of love and courage.
Burn the wisdoms of our generous ancestors into our wide-open eyes.
Drink deep from the abyss, rippling with ecstasy behind the black.
Each breath we take is a shuddering reverie across its shining web.
All of us alike, slammed to the ground by its quiet immensity.
Like the heroes of folklore, we too will reach the starry truth as we do every night in sweet, languorous slumber.
Heed the signs of the universe. Garner and nourish your own secret symbologies with the astute vigilance of a Virgo. Hold steadfast to the knowledge it teaches you in the limbic realms; a hermit journey that belongs to you alone. This will guide you to the gates to the essence of everything!
Honour yourself and others through the integration of light and shadow, east and west, yin and yang, vulnerability and power, breathing in and out like a tiger; a creature that is both instinctual yet recessed.
As you live, so you die.
Like a crane soaring across the moonlit waters, let me be a floating dance as I’m made anew.
Behold! The first tale of Dia Gila commences.
🎨/📷 by Jakub Halun, Fragment of the Nine Dragon Wall in Forbidden City, Beijing, 2009