Tag Archives: Great Work

Ars Geometrica: Ask… Stuart France

* ‘…We shall all be changed for this mortal, must put on immortality.’ – The ‘Eleventh’ Leaf. …Our respect for the stranger at our door grew. This little device appeared to effectively marry the elements and directions in a four-fold … Continue reading

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Ars Geometrica: Red Rock… Stuart France

* We are reminded of an ‘old’ Poem: THE CONVERSION OF ADAM We call you Red-Rock Rain-Stone Mud-Man… We breathe and you move Amazed and wondrous Made ponderous and slow by millennia… How can you Adam When naming beasts of … Continue reading

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Ars Geometrica: Many Tongues… Stuart France

* Leaves ‘Seven’ and ‘Eight’: * ‘…What is sown ingloriously is raised in glory…’ * ‘…What is sown in corruption is raised incorrupt…’ * But no, as it turned out, many were the tongues and many the hands employed in … Continue reading

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Ars Geometrica: Six… Stuart France

* …The rest of the Night and into the Dawn is something of a blur for us. One can only take in so much after all. We continued to turn the leaves of the little book… Leaf ‘Six’: Operation One: … Continue reading

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Ars Geometrica: Great Work… Stuart France

* …Not that we were going to let that stop us. The next two leaves of the book can be taken together and it was these entries more than any others perhaps which gave us inkling that the book may … Continue reading

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Designer Protection… Stuart France

* Without the crack could black shell of Night ever give flight to break of Day…? * Reblogged from Stuart France

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Black and White… Stuart France

* …Mother said, “The spiral patterns on the gate don’t mean anything, dear, they’re just decoration.” If life is a search for meaning then it would be as well to point out from the start that there is none to … Continue reading

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Turnings II… Stuart France

* … Now she was out in space my Soul had turned astronomical on me. I decided to give her free reign, as much rope as she wanted. Enough for a thousand and one hangings… “The Water Maiden has sacrificed … Continue reading

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Turnings… Stuart France

* …First she was a speck, black against the sky, then she was an arrow balancing the breeze, finally, after measuring the hole in the wall of my room with her wing-span, she became an awesome, majestic weight, sprung upon … Continue reading

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Time Line… Stuart France

* “The peat-bog is as the raven’s coat, the stuttering quagmire rehearses the talk of the rushes is come; the ocean sinks asleep into a smooth sea and the river which runs apace is cut down; light swallows dart aloft; … Continue reading

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