Spirit
We are all creators. Sensuality reminds us of this, inviting us into a world where our emotions are heightened, and our desires transparent to ourselves.
Desire holds the key to the riddle of existence: the mystery of the feminine and the masculine, the mystery of unity.
Philosophy speculates about existence with such obedience to strict logic that life's essence is lost. Knowing through the mind alone is impossible - one must experience its very essence.
Humans crave passion, intimacy, and inspiration, yet we fear to lose ourselves. Few of us care quite enough to ponder our mere existence, never mind its deeper and more revealing facets.
What do you seek to experience? Are you content within the confines of the physical world and the mundane?
Or do you seek to experience possibility, freedom, bliss and the sublime?
If you are ready to take your first step into the unknown, show me where you want to go, and I may choose to be your guide.
"How many faces, how many bodies can you recognize, with your eyes closed, only by touching them? Have you ever closed your eyes and acted unconsciously? Or loved someone so blindly, you could almost feel their energy in a dark room and be moved by the powerful touch of their ideas?"
- Baudrillard
About Me
I am a modern embodiment of the priestesses of yore. I carry lofty ideals of yonder into this realm - Beauty, Courage, Truth. I came here to teach about the mysteries of love and of life - the infinite mysteries that allow us to see, to behold, to embrace, to become.
I carry with me the elements: the Fire of inspiration, of desire. The Water that freely flows between hearts and souls and lips. The Wind who whispers her secrets into the ears of those who listen, and the Earth who provides shelter, warmth, a place to rest.
I am the antidote to boredom and the mundane. I am here to enliven your senses, to show you how to feel, to become who you seek. I am imbued with magic: a force of destruction and creation alike, depending on how you wield me. Perhaps you are blinded by the masks this World hands out to its citizens - I will help you remove them, and show you the many possibilites of relating to the Feminine; guide you toward the infinite mystique.
I strive to be modern day Renaissance woman, a connoisseur of fine culture, and a servant to my passions. During the day, I perfect my skills in modern dance, Tango and piano; at night, I enchant others with my talents. Support me in my arts—I will seduce you with my songs and invite you into ecstatic revelry. Inspire me, and I may even create new works in your name.
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I explore and discover everything exotic, sublime, true, spectacular, and novel.
I travel the world—book us a ticket to a mystical and deserted paradise and win my delight.
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I take in performance of all kinds. I adore fine and novel cuisine.
Most of all, I enjoy knowing people deeply—their passions, their memories, their sorrows, their idiosyncrasies, and their deepest secrets. I revel in discovering how people were formed by the world and how they chose to form themselves. The creative, the passionate, and the authentic all have a place in my heart. I long to listen and to learn.
In this world of disillusionment and nihilism, the meaning of life lies always just beneath the surface...
waiting patiently to be rediscovered by those explorers relentless and intrepid enough to question the consensus...
those who honor their own visions and dreams, who remain true to themselves in the midst of adversity...
and who live honorably with respect for all forms of life and the higher, unseen laws of being.
If you are ready, I will guide you outside of the known world.
How far we go depends on you.
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Philosophy
"The lowest stage is that of the civil virtues, then follow the purifying, and last of all the divine virtues. The civil virtues merely adorn the life, without elevating the soul. That is the office of the purifying virtues, by which the soul is freed from sensuality and led back to itself, and thence to the nous. By means of ascetic observances, the human becomes once more a spiritual and enduring being, free from all sin. But there is still a higher attainment; it is not enough to be sinless, one must become "God" (henosis). This is reached through contemplation of the primeval Being, the One — in other words, through an ecstatic approach to it. Thought cannot attain to this, for thought reaches only to the nous, and it itself is a kind of motion. It is only in a state of perfect passivity and repose that the soul can recognise and touch the primaeval Being.
Hence, the soul must first pass through a spiritual curriculum. Beginning with the contemplation of corporeal things in their multiplicity and harmony, it then retires upon itself and withdraws into the depths of its own being, rising thence to the nous, the world of ideas. But, even there, it does not find the Highest, the One; it still hears a voice saying, "not we have made ourselves".
The last stage is reached when, in the highest tension and concentration, beholding in silence and utter forgetfulness of all things, it is able, as it were, to lose itself. Then it sees God, the foundation of life, the source of being, the origin of all good, the root of the soul. In that moment, it enjoys the highest indescribable bliss; it is, as it were, swallowed up by divinity, bathed in the light of eternity."
- Richard M. Bucke, Cosmic Consciousness
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Listen to the small voice in the silent depths of your mind. Does it stir you? Does it tell you there is more to life than what our world offers? Do you search the dark corners of your soul for answers when everyone else is fast asleep?
I don't offer answers, but I know where you can find some of your own. They hide in the shadows. And they're absolutely tantalizing.
Take my hand, and I will guide you through the shadow to the place where the sun never sets, to the knowledge of your very self.
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I desire union beyond the physical. I gravitate towards rapture, mystery, subtlety, and pure love, admiration, and beauty. I swim in the waters of Romance, set flowing by physical and sensory experience. The gateway to heaven takes many forms.
Here are a few of my favorites:
• singing violins • sunsets across purple skies • fresh-picked blueberries • warm baths and massages • velvet and lace • sweet orange oil • Rachmaninoff's preludes and etudes-tableaux • fleece blankets • reclining by fireside • smoldering candles • clustered redwoods • hawks in flight • sunflowers • ancient relics and arcane tomes • spoken word and poetry • stained glass windows • cultural monuments •
If you'd like to indulge in some of my fancies, please
have a look by clicking here!
Essence
Union
You are not here.
In this moment all that exists is here.
But you are not.
There are so many footprints
leading to my door.
Let us enter, they say.
We cannot sleep in the desert
it is too cold.
Our tears will dry too fast.
Our ears will hurt from the silence.
Let us in.
And so I gather them all up,
swing wide my door,
and step aside as they enter
hoping they will lay in peace beside my fire.
You were not among them.
I looked everywhere for your face
and saw only mimicry.
The blind eye buried behind brain
searching for your heart.
An antenna so alert
there is a peculiar nearness of you
flying inside my body.
I can hold this like a tiny bird in my hands;
fragile, vulnerable, waiting
for my move to decide its fate.
You are not here.
I wish I could reach your skin,
remove the camouflage
tearing it away like black paper
held before the sun as a shield.
Unbundle you from your other lives
and distill you in my now.
You are my last love,
my final embrace of this world
and all the others that drop their prints at my door
are dimmed by your approaching steps.
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James Mahu
Birth
The night stars blossom in my mouth
Flowers were supposed to erupt, or broken words
Andromeda bursts forth on wings of glitter
Crooning melody in patches
Millions of years old is the song
That carries me
Lighting my chest where
Your naked breath used to quiver
River undulating through canyon
Two founts seeking truth,
One pen to record
The journey toward the
sky wide open, cosmic lips
dripping the milk of the night
I give birth to myself,
Always rising from my ashes
To share the gift of fire with man.
Yet I wish that once
I could surrender
That you would bury me within
Your beautiful breast,
Singing me your ancient songs
In those forgotten tongues,
bathing me in your eternal light,
Tenderly lifting my soul
Into lost worlds, so I could become One
Not alone, but through our union.
Leyla Archer
