(this fable intersects with all of LUX AETERNA)
Polaris, North Star of the heavens, hovers, as one of many myriads of light emanating from that heart of darkness, that is the nighttime sky. Voyeur to all above and below, watching the world through all of time, witnessing history as it happens.
Polaris watches as stegosaurs frolic in long forgotten lakes, comets make their grand entrances, the plumes of smoke of war rise over earth, and children project their wishes upon the heavens.
It is here, there, and everywhere, that time does not actually exist. Time is a flicker: still and moving simultaneously, like celluloid film, frame by frame, racing through a projector.
A solar wind breaks through the ice and heat. Stardust floats away from the surrounding entities – the silent miracle of snow, suspended in helium, dances across the abyss.
The gods occupy the sky above, the mortals the lands below.
Across the void and just south of us, Diana, Goddess of the Hunt, aims her arrow at a given target. It is unknown to her, that at this moment, her incredible skill will kill the love of her life: Orion.
A transparent helix spins: luminous and powerful; like a centrifuge, it parses the wishes of thousands of children looking up to the sky each night. Releasing their wishes into the heavens, thousands of tiny lights twinkle like the illustration to a fairy tale. The little ones know, that while their lips can move, they must not state their wishes out loud, otherwise they will never reach their celestial destination.
Hunched men and women, wearing nothing but animal skins, trudge across an ancient landscape littered with tusks and mammoth bones. They walk and walk. They are hungry.
In the waters off of Mesoamerica, a girl climbs across massive gray rocks, searching for gull eggs. She jumps across a chasm, only to realize that she has jumped over a very deep hole, a dark cave lies beneath. 12000 years later, explorers will discover her skull, and name her Naia.
A naked woman, a python around her neck, walks in her moonlit garden. She calls for some one or some thing. A cheetah slithers in and out of the columns of cypress. From the distance, she appears as half woman, half beast; a mythical creature at waters edge, luring in strangers.
A tumbleweed lurches across the desert immersed in its own tiny orbit, spinning with the grace of the earth’s wind. A man sits in his car, and submits to the spinning weeds, allowing them to hypnotize him.
Lake Vostok, a subglacial lake at the very top of the earth, holds the knowledge of millions of years, frozen in its ice crystals. Scientists will discover an enigma from nature’s time capsule.
The flash of a papparazzi’s camera mirrors that of a super nova above. The subject of that flash pulls her hair over her eyes, and her sleeve down over her wrist. She is hiding a clue that is revealed by a tattoo.
Across the continents, dark clouds rise and fall, rise and fall, with the foul scent of war.
Above as below, the void is massive: a net gathering the imagery of: dreams, myths, the unconscious, and the unknown.
At last, time is a galaxy that will not end. It is like a scent that has no boundaries.
The scent of a sleeping child’s hands.
The watery veil of tuberose, ejecting its narcotic, otherworldly scent.
…The Scent of Silent Ethereal Beauty in Orbit…
Copyright © 2014 Meike Kopp, All Rights reserved.