Two jam jars I saved for dried mint and herbs-- how they insinuate more than the sunlight they swallow.
In Greek, “epiphaneia” meant the appearance of a divinity among mortals or the recognition of a divinity in a male or female mortal form. The epiphany revealed the divine in one morsel of reality. It reduced the distance between sacred and profane.
Generally, the epiphany as recognition is less fabled than the epiphany as appearance, which we know most quickly and accessibly as Christ, the word made flesh.
My affection for thistles and underdog flora.
But the Eldest was sketching epiphanies today which inspired me to spend a little time admiring the light, its refracted returns. A collection of tiny epiphanies in which I discover the material story does not account for my attraction...
The pebble moves in my pocket: a turtle, the first point in a series of ellipses, or the last word, solid and definite.
Blaise Pascal: “Runaway thought, I wanted to write it; instead I wrote that it has run away.."
What I learn from watching its gait, the way it runs suggests second thoughts. And a second thought is perhaps a thought that wants to come back.
In a letter on November 8, 1915, Rilke asks “how are we to approach the god from the space that lies in front of him?”
The pebble, the pocket, the runaway thought returning as a second thought.
Sight is subjective- perpetually un-shareable. But the gaze itself is divine. The gaze divines more than the sight.
My head is thick with thistles and similar prickly charms, saved for later.
