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@theoptia’s paracosm.

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opus ad Lunam.
The Collected Works of C.G. Jung: Volume 13: Alchemical Studies
To one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by the same Spirit, to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. (1 Cor. 12:8-10)
Clarice Lispector, from Selected Cronicas

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One thing I do know: love, however violent, is pure. And that is how I have come to discover that I am not pure.
i hold vigil for the soft percussions of a vanishing dial. at what invisible margin do i exist? at what seam do i envelop myself?
Jorge Luis Borges, from A Personal Anthology; “A New Refutation of Time”
Shlomy Mualem, from Literary Writing and Personal Identity in Borges and Pessoa
i hold vigil for the soft percussions of a vanishing dial. at what invisible margin do i exist? at what seam do i envelop myself?
a mystical centre from which the visible universe emanated...

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In order to integrate our unconscious, we must, therefore, create our own bridge. Fundamentally, what this bridge does, is opening the wall which separates the unconscious from the conscious world, […]; where there used to be closed circles, there are now open circles, whereby interaction becomes possible. This is the essence of the individuation process.
C.G. Jung, from The Red Book: Liber Novus
Jung argued that he was happy to finally return to the lost world of his soul. Jung argued that one must live according to one’s own way, and Jung’s own way had now guided him to his soul. According to Jung, he had always been judging his soul and had turned his soul into a ‘scientific object’, which made sense when living in accordance with the spirit of the times, which sees the soul as an object under the control of the individual. The spirit of the depths, however, forced Jung to see his soul as a self-existing entity, with which he had lost connection.
I prefer life, yes, to the very God who created it. Since this is the life he gave me, this is the life I’ll live.
Today, suddenly, I reached an absurd but unerring conclusion. In a moment of enlightenment, I realized that I'm nobody, absolutely nobody.

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all painters keep at least one cheap ruin of a brush, right?
gushing over this hilma af klint cigarette case a friend gifted me. ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚