I was with a great crowd in an arena or concert hall. They had their hands in the air, enjoying themselves. On top of the crowd, there was a faint, bluish light. It slowly turned red and thickened into a fog. It felt heavy and dangerous. Something in its shape and the way it moved… Continue reading Fifty-Eight
I was in a cave with the Siberian man. There were small fires everywhere, giving warm light. There was a lake in the middle, fire dancing on the water. "How can this be?" - I asked the Siberian man, but he didn't reply. Then the cave opened into a night field, but the grass was… Continue reading Thirty-Four
We were in a cave, the walls were lit by an unknown source, or maybe they were glowing by themselves. The Siberian man was behind me, and we were following a row of figures, enrobed in white, semi-transparent cloth. I asked him who they were, but he didn't reply. "Is this some kind of procession?… Continue reading Thirty-Two
We were in a wintry landscape with the Siberian man. Broad daylight. There was nothing around us. Nothing could be seen, nothing could be heard... It felt as if the snow was the frozen echo of the bright blue sky, and we were submerged in this dazzling silence. Then we could hear a soft murmur… Continue reading Thirty-One
- "Why do I have to witness all this?" - I asked her. - "There are thousands of pasts, and thousands of futures. They all have to meet at one point, in one single present, even if only for a moment, to become conscious. My bees are all such junctures, such meeting points... I'm sorry, my little bee, I am so sorry that it hurts." - "But what is consciousness? And why does it matter?"