Castalia 366
It is hers
Dear Friends,
Life is a cat — a cat who longs to be with us, who snuggles up to us, who bites when ignored.
From the high tower, scrying the stars, he summons us to earth; his mistress waits — our mistress.
The Tower, Rider-Waite-Smith Tarot
designed by Arthur Edward Waite, drawn by Pamela Colman Smith
Aphrodite, Briton Rivière (1902)
That life is hers makes all the difference; no matter where we turn, it will show us her. Its scratches, its bites, we can accept; the blazing pain in our foot has led us to her face. And she is mistress not only of life; as Rilke writes, life and death are in kernel one1. As I enter life, I enter death as well. Not only earth, but the abyss are bathed in the light of that face.
Gérard de Nerval writes,
She whom alone I have loved loves me tenderly:
She is death, or the dead…
One might say, not only the new moon; not only the full, shining forth in glory, but the waning.
Thank you so much.
With every good wish,
Ishmael
Music as a Path:
I coach musicians online, guiding composers and performers alike to deeper connection with the Muse. For details, please see my website:
In a little poem which goes like this:
Leben und Tod: Sie sind im Kerne eins.
Wer sich begreift aus einem eignen Stamme,
der preßt sich selber zu dem Tropfen Weins
und wirft sich selber in die reinste Flamme.
Life and death: in kernel, they are one.
The one who goes forth from a root his own
Presses himself out as a drop of wine
And hurls himself into the purest flame.
(translation by IW)