- victorio wrote these:
Somerset Maugham wrote a book called “Of Human Bondage,” in which his main character suffered from a deep sense of despair. It was during such a period, he discovered a Persian rug so wondrous in design, that it awakened in him a new concept about his life. From that moment on, he realized that happiness was not his goal to achieve, nor was it relevant. What was relevant was his desire to create from all his experiences, a mosaic of intricate beauty and design.
Such is Spain. For it is a country so steeped in Violence and suffering, that happiness could never be attained. Its ultimate recourse was to weave a history as mysterious and beautiful as the design woven into that Persian rug.
Flamenco has been an integral part of that design. It ahs served as a powerful means of expression for the Spaniard’s need to release something deeper within himself. It has also been the mirror of Spain’s dark history. The poetry of its songs, and the power of its music and dance, reveal the timeless quality within all men: the spirit yearning for completion and fulfillment.
My experiences in Spain were uniquely my own, and all my encounters with the people, served to strengthen my spirit, while bringing me closer to forming a richer perspective of life itself.
However, as deeply as I tried to penetrate the Spanish mind and to understand his psyche, the mystery of Spain prevailed. Something within the history of the land, kept me one step from its grasp. The search for answers and truths were never quite found, and I lived each day in a country where paradox and contradiction became an integral part of my existence.
Mystery was everywhere, in the common-day interaction with people, and in my perpetual encounter with the land itself. For Spain possessed a history that continued to speak without words. The land held so much power, beauty, and tragedy, that one could not cross the countryside without feeling the past merging into the present.
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Physical love leaves nothing to the retained. The experience comsumes itself, impelling us to perpetually begin again. Like suffeing, the act of love reaches so deeply within, that we are often left with less than the ases of memory. Yet passion can never sate itself, for it is man’s unsuspecting partner in his ultimate ascent towards the higher self. A woman loved, personifies man’s transcendent source of desire, which is raised by God’ grace into spiritual consciousness. Orgasm thus transforms passion, revealing the godhead within, and the soul’s eternal longing for union with the Devine.
Each of us is an isolated particle of consciousness apart from the world, yet invisibly bound to every living things. This is the heart of the mystery: the ineffable sense of aloneness, and the paradoxical awaremenss that we never alone.
Within a sea of conciousness
We evolve
Unwinding through aeons of time
Upon a spool of eternal thread
And in our labyrinth of suffering and joy
We transcend our myriad lives
Reaching beyond the conturies
Towards the Divine Light
Your love is a vessel upon which I return to the river
Of my thousand lives
And in gentle, karmic sleep, I watch destiny unfold
The timelss journey of soul
Two spires reflect in your eyes
An altar arises between your breasts
And I ascend to Calvery
Within the mystery of your thighs
You are the dream of flowers
Bowing to the wind
鐜涢泤