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Dancing Maenad II Wild in the woods, they danced at the moonlight. Dionysus – the Eleutherios, the one who lets free – lead the dance. Music, wine. Disrespect of lives, Maenads tore and chewed live flesh of humans and wildbeasts. They where seductive and horrific. Their dance was chaotic and absolute. Black Dancer with Satyr Black Dancer with Satyr A dancing Satyr is on the background, apparently a full figure portrait. His posture, arching backward , is typical in the iconography of the ecstatic dance of Maenads and Satyrs, the retinue of the God who dies Dionysus. His figure is a suffering one, strained limbs and painful expression. An example of the Willow Chair... Ariel Ariel An American seashore at dusk. The City, its lights far away, across a bay or an estuary. A motorcycle, a front end of an old red muscle car, with the lights on. A man half bowing, may be Lou Reed. A dancing nude woman, shining star of the night. An impious portrait, a prostitute maybe,... Walter Krüger (expressionist version) Walter Krüger (expressionist version) This is one out of two portraits of the same character. As it is the statement of ambivalence between good and evil, this is a no-mocking yet playful portrait, the Mensur scar on the right cheek is in the same rose hue as the deep furrow between nose and mouth, and the prominent lips themselves.... Lady Day New York. A lower East Side night, pouring rain. A singing voice from a bar. Music. Smoke. Sounds. Liquors. Drugs. An eulogy for Billy Holiday. A song by Lou Reed, one of his first ones I've ever loved.

I AM A HYPERBOREAN

ZALMOXIS

I come from long ago, from a time long passed. I come from a faraway land much beloved by Apollo, the great distant God of prophecy and archery, the God of diseases and of cures.

Truth is

who am I?

I WAS TOO MANY TO REMEMBERI DON’T WANT TO BE REMEMBEREDTHIS ONLY MATTERS: MY CHARMS, MY LASTING DAYSI WILL SURVIVEMY LONG GOING EXISTENCE IS NO JOKEI AM A MAGICIAN, A PRIEST FOR APOLLO, A HYPERBOREANI LUST FOR BLOOD, WHICH IS LIFE BY ITSELF

I think strange things which I dare not confess to my own soul

I AM ALL IN A SEA OF WONDERS I DOUBT I FEAR
ImageImageImage
No se puede propio saber lo que sabe el lobo. El lobo es incognoscible. Preguntar lo que sabe el lobo es como preguntar los arboles. Las piedras. El mundo.
Cormac McCarthy
novelist
Mit ungläublicher Ehrfurcht Lautschten wir den langsamen Takten des Walzwerks der Front, einer Melodie, die uns in langen jahren Gewohnheit werden sollte.
Ernst Jünger
author
Der Atem des Kampfes wehte herüber und ließ uns seltsam erschauern.
Ernst Jünger
author
THE PREMISE IS

To approach Zalmoxis, we start from Apollo. God of Forecasting. God of Diseases, Supreme Healer. Magician Sire of the Underworld, God of the Far Traveling Arrow. He is not Greek, he came from the immense plains in the North-East, from lands where the Sun rises and lasts.