Psychocosmic Resonance
One of the first 'magical locations' I ever discovered was Warren Dunes State Park overlooking Lake Michigan. Tower Hill, a 200 ft high mound of sand, was monarch of the beach. From its crest on a clear day one could, with the aid of binoculars, see the distant Chicago skyline as a faint apparition on the horizon. The sky seemed to be a deeper blue at the dunes, a glimpse of some rarer, more ecstatic world. I realized later that being there, or even just thinking about being there, activated my own archetypal imagination, that wellspring of imagery and undecipherable emotions that suck the raw material of the sensory world into a vortex and reshapes it into something that could not exist without the interaction between us. I later termed this realm the Alterworld - that threshold realm where the inner and outer universe meet and we 'alter' each other in a constant dance.
Something about Warren Dunes activated this in a special way, a kind of geographical parallel to certain types of music that produce the same supra-terrestrial effect. Later, when I visited the much more grandiose Sleeping Bear Dunes, it had the same effect, even to the point of inspiring visions that have stayed with me. In my mind I combined both locations into one, forming a psychologically charged Dune Planet. At times, when the Alterworld rises, I am as good as there. No matter where I may be, a portal opens that connects me to this place. I can see straight to it, like peering behind the stage sets of this phenomenal world, or - "reality", to see that it is all around us. My mind uploads it and superimposes it upon the environment where I physically stand.
This is quite understandable. To associate such locations with an active imaginal subconscious at such an early age almost guarantees that I would forever associate the two. Having said all that, when it comes upon me, no matter where I am, I also stand at the summit of the Dune Planet. My magical self is there. Whether spiritually or psychically or by alternate dimensions I am actually "here" and "there" simultaneously. A child climbing Tower Hill might look up and see me as a phase shifting hologram gazing out into the distance. Then I am gone.
The Alterworld is my own version of what we all have. The 'magical universe' of the mind interacts with the physical world in ways not fully understood (the lines between inner and outer are not so distinct as we think) Transdimensional physical manifestations are fun on many levels, but are not necessary to the concept.
Alterworld imagery is anything but limited to Dune Planet. In fact there are no limits. There are certain themes that are favored. Every geographical nexus that resonates with the undercurrents of one's own psychocosm gets added on in a type of surrealist evolution. Next stop - Colorado!
The two years I lived in Golden, at the very foot of the Rocky Mountain wall on the periphery of Denver, amount to a 'finite infinity', or an eternity sandwich (A rarefied space is rendered infinite by the effect of rarity - Maurice Blauchot) The experience never really ended. It resonates on and on. The land and air is infused with a raw energy of frontier archetype mountain man grizzly claw Kit Carson Indian fighting wagon trains braving wild demonic blizzards with severe men scared children resourceful women swept up by the Great Spirit who keeps his lonesome night solar abode on the lofty crags of the Continental Divide. The Colorado sky is a sacred tent cast over pinnacle gods / Forces of Nature radiating majestic indifference / carbonate the blood, cleanse the head and heart and lungs.
Here, in my Colorado of the mind and soul, one gets beauty enough to change one's life forever, or to one day vanish if you wish into the forests a stoic, wise or gibbering madman left alone to run amok for you are touched, the cord has been cut, baby! You wouldnt want to come back if you could.
At times, when the Alterworld rises, I stand in the West. I have a clear and uncorroded connection with the Battery. Tho I may be walking down a rainy Georgia blacktop, I occupy my psychic office high in the Rockies. I can see the fabled Four Corners from my bay window. My familiar, a messenger eagle, soars on a current overhead. Flames dance upon coals in a stone fireplace next to an ornate wooden earth globe. Snowshoes lean against the wall underneath a gun rack. I am expecting, O I dont know - Jeremiah Johnson and his new squaw for dinner.
The most recent location of psychocosmic resonance is, actually, where I live right now - the whole of North Georgia centering on the space stretching between Gainesville and Dahlonega. That may seem strange but it is true. I felt a distinctive attraction to North Georgia from the very first encounter, way back before I was 10 yrs old. It is almost ridiculous the amount of excitement generated by my first glimpse of a line of old worn Appalachian hills. This area has always struck me with its self-contained zone of "otherness".
After my brief stay in LA, I returned to Georgia and was drawn back to the Gainesville area. I eschewed 985 in favor of Ga. 400. As I approach the northern terminus at Hwy 60, where one may turn left to go to Dahlonega or right to Gainesville, I get a blast of Colorado highlands, spirit ridges howling wind and snow feral beasts wing beats full moon in metaphysical stratosphere. It is indescribable and undeniable. I am still not sure what that other world is, or where its emotions come from (or even what they are) but it is beautiful. Alterworld psychic resonance!
This area was old Cherokee land before they were genocidally 'evacuated' by the dark side current of American history. I recently discovered via my Mom that I had a Cherokee great grandmother who apparently was a scary - crazy type and a native sorceress. Is my attraction in the blood? Was I myself a Cherokee once, having returned to my ancient homeland as prophesied (?!)
Are such things explainable by these corny well worn formulations? Are they explainable at all?
Explaining is not so important. Living is.
It does not escape me when I walk the woods and hills of my neighborhood that I live precisely in the location that has magnetized my psychocosmos for more than 20 years. I have managed to set up residence in an Alterworld geographical analogue. All as it should be.
When I reach the highest point in my walk, I sometimes leave the road and climb a steep hill into the woods, scattering deer. I face the west and see the mountains over Dahlonega, site of America's original gold rush and shot in the arm from the land grab syringe. The Alterworld rises. I log on to Dune Planet. I sit in my office in the West, staring into the glorious abyss (an official job description) I stand where I belong: quantum phase time now! A transdimensional triangle opens behind and above the stage scenery, connecting me with all other magical locations in my history so far. Lines of operating code fly by. I want to utilize them. I Gaze at apparitional cityscapes from Tower Hill, soar in the absolute freedom of the Rocky Mountain sky, and look towards the worn gold bearing hills of my ancient homeland.
It is all me; it is all you; and the world is a symbolic analogue and our psychic playground.
- Werbinox
Something about Warren Dunes activated this in a special way, a kind of geographical parallel to certain types of music that produce the same supra-terrestrial effect. Later, when I visited the much more grandiose Sleeping Bear Dunes, it had the same effect, even to the point of inspiring visions that have stayed with me. In my mind I combined both locations into one, forming a psychologically charged Dune Planet. At times, when the Alterworld rises, I am as good as there. No matter where I may be, a portal opens that connects me to this place. I can see straight to it, like peering behind the stage sets of this phenomenal world, or - "reality", to see that it is all around us. My mind uploads it and superimposes it upon the environment where I physically stand.
This is quite understandable. To associate such locations with an active imaginal subconscious at such an early age almost guarantees that I would forever associate the two. Having said all that, when it comes upon me, no matter where I am, I also stand at the summit of the Dune Planet. My magical self is there. Whether spiritually or psychically or by alternate dimensions I am actually "here" and "there" simultaneously. A child climbing Tower Hill might look up and see me as a phase shifting hologram gazing out into the distance. Then I am gone.
The Alterworld is my own version of what we all have. The 'magical universe' of the mind interacts with the physical world in ways not fully understood (the lines between inner and outer are not so distinct as we think) Transdimensional physical manifestations are fun on many levels, but are not necessary to the concept.
Alterworld imagery is anything but limited to Dune Planet. In fact there are no limits. There are certain themes that are favored. Every geographical nexus that resonates with the undercurrents of one's own psychocosm gets added on in a type of surrealist evolution. Next stop - Colorado!
The two years I lived in Golden, at the very foot of the Rocky Mountain wall on the periphery of Denver, amount to a 'finite infinity', or an eternity sandwich (A rarefied space is rendered infinite by the effect of rarity - Maurice Blauchot) The experience never really ended. It resonates on and on. The land and air is infused with a raw energy of frontier archetype mountain man grizzly claw Kit Carson Indian fighting wagon trains braving wild demonic blizzards with severe men scared children resourceful women swept up by the Great Spirit who keeps his lonesome night solar abode on the lofty crags of the Continental Divide. The Colorado sky is a sacred tent cast over pinnacle gods / Forces of Nature radiating majestic indifference / carbonate the blood, cleanse the head and heart and lungs.
Here, in my Colorado of the mind and soul, one gets beauty enough to change one's life forever, or to one day vanish if you wish into the forests a stoic, wise or gibbering madman left alone to run amok for you are touched, the cord has been cut, baby! You wouldnt want to come back if you could.
At times, when the Alterworld rises, I stand in the West. I have a clear and uncorroded connection with the Battery. Tho I may be walking down a rainy Georgia blacktop, I occupy my psychic office high in the Rockies. I can see the fabled Four Corners from my bay window. My familiar, a messenger eagle, soars on a current overhead. Flames dance upon coals in a stone fireplace next to an ornate wooden earth globe. Snowshoes lean against the wall underneath a gun rack. I am expecting, O I dont know - Jeremiah Johnson and his new squaw for dinner.
The most recent location of psychocosmic resonance is, actually, where I live right now - the whole of North Georgia centering on the space stretching between Gainesville and Dahlonega. That may seem strange but it is true. I felt a distinctive attraction to North Georgia from the very first encounter, way back before I was 10 yrs old. It is almost ridiculous the amount of excitement generated by my first glimpse of a line of old worn Appalachian hills. This area has always struck me with its self-contained zone of "otherness".
After my brief stay in LA, I returned to Georgia and was drawn back to the Gainesville area. I eschewed 985 in favor of Ga. 400. As I approach the northern terminus at Hwy 60, where one may turn left to go to Dahlonega or right to Gainesville, I get a blast of Colorado highlands, spirit ridges howling wind and snow feral beasts wing beats full moon in metaphysical stratosphere. It is indescribable and undeniable. I am still not sure what that other world is, or where its emotions come from (or even what they are) but it is beautiful. Alterworld psychic resonance!
This area was old Cherokee land before they were genocidally 'evacuated' by the dark side current of American history. I recently discovered via my Mom that I had a Cherokee great grandmother who apparently was a scary - crazy type and a native sorceress. Is my attraction in the blood? Was I myself a Cherokee once, having returned to my ancient homeland as prophesied (?!)
Are such things explainable by these corny well worn formulations? Are they explainable at all?
Explaining is not so important. Living is.
It does not escape me when I walk the woods and hills of my neighborhood that I live precisely in the location that has magnetized my psychocosmos for more than 20 years. I have managed to set up residence in an Alterworld geographical analogue. All as it should be.
When I reach the highest point in my walk, I sometimes leave the road and climb a steep hill into the woods, scattering deer. I face the west and see the mountains over Dahlonega, site of America's original gold rush and shot in the arm from the land grab syringe. The Alterworld rises. I log on to Dune Planet. I sit in my office in the West, staring into the glorious abyss (an official job description) I stand where I belong: quantum phase time now! A transdimensional triangle opens behind and above the stage scenery, connecting me with all other magical locations in my history so far. Lines of operating code fly by. I want to utilize them. I Gaze at apparitional cityscapes from Tower Hill, soar in the absolute freedom of the Rocky Mountain sky, and look towards the worn gold bearing hills of my ancient homeland.
It is all me; it is all you; and the world is a symbolic analogue and our psychic playground.
- Werbinox
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