Hypnotic Suggestion, NLP, Mind Control
Perhaps the most well known instance of invisibility is convincing others through hypnosis. Derren Brown demonstrates exactly that in his series Trick of the Mind.

This is an expertly executed instance of mind control. Derren spent a tremendous amount of time to find someone suggestive enough to believe this routine. If you are trying to find a practical application for invisibility this would require some fore thought and research to find a subject.

Hoodoo
A grisly technique for achieving invisibility has its roots in old style hoodoo. “Cook the body of a black cat in boiling water with white seeds and wood from the willow until the meat is loosened from the bones. Strain the bones in a linen cloth and, in front of the mirror, place the bones, one by one in your mouth, until you find that you have the magic to make you become invisible. Keep the bone with the magic property and, if you want to go somewhere without being seen, place the bone in your mouth.”

The exact approach with a black cat varies, sometimes it may only be a toe bone and other methods vary as well where as you place each bone under your tongue. So whenever you want to be invisible you may simply put the bone in your mouth.

Meditation and Focus
Another method involves an intense regiment of focus and concentration through varying meditation techniques. The technique is as follows.

• Sit somewhere you can feel relaxed
• Close your eyes
• Imagine what it might feel like to be invisible
• Picture yourself living out your invisible fantasies
• After about five minutes of this, concentrate on one part of your body – a fingertip is a good choice – and will it to become invisible. See it in your mind’s eye as it slowly becomes transparent, revealing what is behind it.
• Once it is invisible in your mind, hold that thought for as long as possible. You may find your mind begins to wander. If it does, don’t worry, relax. Wait a while, and try again.
• To begin with you may only be able to hold that thought for a few seconds, or perhaps a minute at most. Keep practising. You’ll need to be able to hold that thought uppermost in your mind for at least FIVE minutes before continuing on to stage 2. Distractions are, unfortunately, inevitable, but with enough practise, you’ll find you are able to ignore them.
• Keep repeating this exercise for at least three weeks. If you still haven’t reached five minutes, stick with it – it will happen. Some people have taken two or more months to achieve this, but everyone who has stuck with it has made it to five minutes.
• The best way to time yourself is to glance at a clock before you begin to concentrate. When your mind begins to wander – however slight it may be – open your eyes again and check the clock. You may be surprised how long you kept that thought going.

• Before beginning this exercise, make sure you have eaten nothing for at least one hour, and drunk nothing but water in the same time period.
• Put yourself in the same relaxing situation you used for stage 1.
• Starting with the tips of your toes, and working slowly up the entire length of your body, imagine yourself becoming transparent.
• While you do this, repeat the word “invisible” in your head.
• If you do this correctly, you should take about five minutes to reach the top of your head. By now you’ll be subconsciously aware of how long it takes for five minutes to pass, and you’ll be surprised at how accurate you can be. In total, you’ll think of the word “invisible” about 60 times during those five minutes.
• Repeat this exercise 12 times, and try to do it every day for at least two weeks – a month works well in my experience. Yes, it’s a full hour each day, which may seem a lot, but dedication is one thing you’ll need if you’re to achieve what most people can only dream about. And if you can’t manage this stage, you’ll really struggle later.
• Be aware that if anything distracts you from the exercise that you’ll need to start over again – a full hour is required, no less. So make sure you unplug the phone and perhaps put on some relaxing music – anything that will help you keep your mind on what you’re doing, not on the things around you. If you do choose to have music on, make sure it’s something you’re familiar with – anything new or unusual will easily catch your attention.

• For the first ten minutes you should repeat a couple of full body sweeps as described in stage 2. Keep the word “invisible” repeating in your mind, and visualize as totally as possible each part of your body becoming transparent.
• For the remainder of the hour, you will have a new exercise to

Kundalini and Chakra Focus
This involves a series of meditations and visualizations while channeling ones energy to the correct focal points to have an end result of invisibility.

Now in your own time close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths feel the chest rise and fall and relax.

Then visualize the base chakra. At the base of chakra there is a well of energy this well is known as the jewel of the lotus within the jewel there is a light golden energy. Visualize that this golden energy is trickling out of the jewel and spreading out into the chakra. As the chakra spins see the chakra becoming golden in colour with its light radiant energy. Feel that energy.

Now focus on the second chakra and do the same, see the jewel at the centre and see this radiant energy trickling out into the 2nd chakra fill it with its radiant energy.

Then move on to the 3rd chakra and do the same for this chakra and the other chakra’s till all seven chakra’s are filled with the radiant golden light of kundalini energy

Now once you have reached the seventh chakra see the seven chakra’s and feel this light golden energy continually flowing into the chakra’s till it starts to over flow into the physical body and move that energy through your physical body and out into the auric field till you reach the seventh layer of the auric field.

The visualize that the golden clouds are forming in the auric field and instruct the clouds the change form their natural golden colour to a black colour when ever you focus your mind on being invisible and to return to the natural colour when you focus your mind on being visible. do this now.

Now that we have created the photonic cloak of invisibility it time to see how you went open your eyes and focus on the mirror in front of you see your reflection and as you watch focus your mind on the photonic clouds and feel them changing from their natural golden colour to black.

Now as you do this see and feel your reflection vanishing in front of you and once you have vanished hold it there for a moment.

After a couple of minutes focus your mind on the photonic clouds again and feel them returning to their natural golden colour. As you do this see your reflection reappearing in front of the mirror.

The Rose Cross Ritual
A tradition passed on through the Rosicrucians and their methods adapted to modern day occult techniques by the Golden Dawn. When complete the ritual boasts a perception filter where you become ignored by all those around you; thus rendering you invisible.

Light a stick of incense. Go to the South East corner of the room. Make a large cross and circle and holding the point of the incense in the center vibrate the word Yeheshuah.

With arm outstretched on a level with the centre of the cross, and holding the incense stick, go to the South West corner and make a similar cross, repeating the Word.

Go to the North West corner and repeat the cross and the Word.

Go to the North East corner and repeat the cross and the Word.

Complete your circle by returning to the South East corner and bringing the point of the incense to the central point of the first cross which you should imagine astrally there.

Holding the stick on high, go to the centre of the room, walking diagonally across the room towards the North West corner. In the centre of the room, above your head, trace the cross and circle and vibrate the Name.

Holding the stick on high, go to the North West and bring the point of the stick down to the centre of the astral cross there.

Turn towards the South East and retrace your steps there, but now, holding the incense stick directed across the floor. In the centre of the room, make the cross and circle towards the floor, as it were, under your feet, and vibrate the Name.

Complete this circle by returning to the South East and bringing the point of the stick again to the centre of the Cross, then move with arm outstretched to S.W. corner.

From the centre of this cross, and, raising stick before, walk diagonally across the room towards the North East corner. In the centre of the room, pick up again the cross above your head previously made, vibrating the Name. It is not necessary to make another cross.

Bring the stick to the centre of the North East cross and return to the South West, incense stick down, and pausing in the centre of the room to link up with the cross under your feet.

Return to the South West and rest the point of the incense a moment in the centre of the cross there. Holding the stick out, retrace your circle to the North West, link on to the N.W. Cross — proceed to the N.E. cross and complete your circle by returning to the S.E., and the centre of the first cross.

Retrace the cross, but larger, and make a big circle, vibrating for the lower half Yeheshuah, and for the upper half Yehovashah.

Return to the centre of the room, and visualise the six crosses in a net-work around you.

Each technique has its own method of approach and each varies differently. None, of them are guaranteed ways to make you invisible to others but they certainly offer insight into the age old desire to disappear. Invisibility has been subject of many a fantasy and no doubt will continue to be. If you enjoyed these techniques and are interested in learning more take a peak at the links below.

• Spontaneous Human Invisibility
• How to become Invisible
• Invisibility
• Hoodoo Source
• The Rose Cross Ritual

It has been thought initially that the lamps may have been fed by underground source of petrolatum, oil and other naturally occuring fuels. While others such as Athanasius Kircher merely ascribed the lamps to be the trick of the devil trying to sway people the worship and praise of false Gods. But, even the bible gives mention to a perpetual lamp. In Exodus 27:20 “And you shall command the children of Israel, that they bring you pure oil olive beaten for the light, to cause the lamp to burn always.”

H.P. Blavatsky and Willy Schrodter also wrote a great deal on these perpetual lamps. Curiously both of them had a recipe for said perpetual lamps and Blavatsky even went as far as to decree “We may add that we have ourselves seen a lamp so prepared, and we are told that since it was first lighted on May 2, 1871, it has not gone out.” Now of course we have no way of knowing where this lamp may be and if it is still alight today but below you may find the recipe for such a lamp, as transcribed by Willy Schrodter.

Take:
1 1/2oz. flowers of sulphur
1 oz. burnt alum

and place them in a subliming pot after a thorough mixing. Place a similar pot mouth to mouth with this and seal the join well with potter’s cement. The pot with the mixture inside is set on a coal fire so that it becomes red hot for approximately one hour, and the sublimed fixed mass is taken out to be pulverized in a mortar. Half as much pure borax by weight is added to the resultant powder and the whole is then reduced to a similar powder in the mortar. This powder is placed in a shallow glass or porcelain basin and is covered with the most highly rectified spirit of wine (ethyl alcohol). The basin is now placed on hot ashes, held over a coal fire in a small caldron, and the spirit is allowed to evaporate slowly. When the mass runs thick like oil, a little of it is removed and laid on a red-hot sheet of copper. Now if the mass runs like wax without smoking, it is ready; but, if it still smokes, more spirit must be poured into the basin and evaporated as before, and the process is to be repeated until the samples no longer emit smoke when tested. The product is then ready.

A wick is now made, about 2 inches long and as thick as the piggest piece of quill. The material used is asbestos or white fibrous gypsum (steatite) bound with silk thread. The prepared mass is then placed in a strong glass made for the purpose, the wick is inserted and the preparation left standing for 24 hours in hot sand. The wick is the pulled up and a sufficiently large lamp chimney is made for it so that it is only slightly exposed at the top and the perepetually burning sulphur mass pours onto it, and the glass is placed in hot sand until the sulphur mass melts and collects around the wick. Finally, the lamp which has been prepared in this way is lit with a light and placed in a place where it will not be disturbed. It will then go on burning without ever going out.

Surprisingly, with the excpetion of the asbestos all of these items can still be purchased from a metal smithing or jewelery maker supplier. The science of it is not that completely unfounded. I should warn the reader though that if you plan to attempt this, inhaling, or handling asbestos has been known to cause mesothelioma and I will refer you to our terms of use.

The purpose of the perpetual lamp may have served as a two fold purpose, one to act as a ight for the deceased to walk through the valley of the shadow of death and the other as a testament to the importance of the deceased.

If you are interested in reading or learning more about these perpetual lamps I will refer you to my sources.

• A Rosicrucian Notebook: The Secret Sciences Used by Members of the Order
• Isis Unveiled (Volumes 1 and 2)

You better watch out, You better not cry,
Better not pout,
I’m telling you why:
Santa Claus is coming to town.
He’s making a list,
And checking it twice;
Gonna find out
Who’s naughty and nice.
Santa Claus is coming to town.
He sees you when you’re sleeping.
He knows when you’re awake.
He knows if you’ve been bad or good,
So be good for goodness sake!
Oh, you better watch out!
You better not cry.
Better not pout,
I’m telling you why:
Santa Claus is coming to town.
Santa Claus is coming to town!

The stories here in the United States of Saint Nicholas knowing if you are bad or good are little more than idle threats to get children to behave for a reward system. However, over in Eastern Europe this is not the case. The lyrics to Santa Claus is Coming Town, have quite the history. You may even learn why little kids need to behave. The far more sinister side of Christmas comes not in the threat of coal in the stocking but as a demon to whisk away the naughty children.

The Krampus (from Austria, Bavaria, Switzerland and Hungary) is a dark haired beast bound in shackles. The shackles implying he is under the control of Saint Nicholas and cannot harm the good boys and girls. Krampus is portrayed with large horns and a red tongue and sometimes a red face or forked tail like a devil. He carries with him a switch (bundle of twigs) and a basket upon his back. The Krampus follows Saint Nicholas doling out beatings to the naughty children and kidnapping the even more misbehaved kids in his basket to eat them later.

However, if the children have been good Krampus will leave candy or small toys in their shoes. Depending upon the tale it is also juxtapozed with the Krampus replacing the treats Saint Nick leaves with Coal.

In some parts of Austria the legend of the Krampus is still celebrated. Every year on December 5th the young men will dress up as the Krampus wearing wooden masks, animal furs, and carrying chains, whips, baskets, and swatches. They will run about Austria scaring children and goading them into being good boys and girls. Amazing craftsmanship is placed into these suits making Halloween costumes pale in comparison.

In the past there were news reports of young men actually carrying off a child and distributing beating him /her then throughout the rest of the day they terrorized kids by banging sticks on windows, and cars wherever they saw them.

The Krampus is not the only fiend to accompany Saint Nicholas on his Christmas journeys. In Switzerland there is Schmutzli, a soot faced bearded man dressed in black. Who like the Krampus carries a swatch and basket to punish children. In France there is Père Fouettard a butcher who accompanies Saint Nick and serves a similar purpose to Krampus and Schmutzli. In Germany you have Ruprecht who like Schmutzli leaves treats for good kids and beatings for the bad.

One thing that was consistent with Saint Nicholas and his dark follower was they were often accompanied by angels who carried a book of those naughty and nice. The angels protected the children from the dark follower and gave Saint Nicholas his knowledge of those who were good and bad.

I have no doubt though that if the Krampus were a world wide Christian tale as well as the Eve of Saint Nicolas then not only would we have many more kids scarred for life but perhaps just maybe we’d have a few less spoiled brats.

• Winter Holiday Traditions in Salzburg
• Krampus Day
• Who travels with Saint Nicholas
• Schmutzli: the Swiss Santa’s sinister sidekick

Such is the case with the copy of the Picatrix that I recently acquired from Ouroboros Press. For those who do not know; the Picatrix is a fantastic resource on Astrological and Talismanic magic. While it is a bit of a dry read the information presented within is priceless. In a similar way to Agrippa’s Three Books of Occult Philosophy one may learn the appropriate way to summon the spirit of any of the stellar systems. However, if you are looking to use the book beyond a practical reference and resource you may have difficulty getting your hands on some of the ingredients required. Requests for rites are so outlandish that it makes you wonder how a spell or invocation could not work as is demonstrated in the final excerpt of the invocation of mars.

“Then you use the incense and then repeat the invocation as you are bowing and kneeling to him. When you are done, sacrifice a tiger or wildcat and burn him as we have mentioned before and eat its liver then all your requests will come true.”

Despite this there are gems of wisdom that don’t require the consumption of an animals liver. Some of them even seem to have a bit of basis in a more scientific approach. Such as this formula to get rid of fleas.

“There is also a charm that Kothamy said he tried for killing fleas is by taking colocynth seed with quicklime and the root of the Egyptian cucumber. Grind them and add some stinky red comfrey. Melt plenty of salt in water and soak the mixture in that water, then spray it around the beds and the house and you will never see any fleas again.”

While this volume of the Picatrix does not contain the complete works of Ghayat Al-Hakim it definitely has more than enough information and history to give you insights into the past. If you are bold enough to do the magic within then it provides you with all the proper knowledge needed to succeed in your summons.

If you are interested in picking up your own copy of the Picatrix then stop over at Ouroboros Press , and you may want to do it sooner than later since every book published at Ouroboros is a limited edition.

We decided to kick off the holidays with a new site design. Hope you enjoy it and excuse the mess while we tidy up. That, said should you find any thing majorly wrong please feel free to use the contact form to drop us a line. As always we thank you for your patronage; and have a safe and Happy Halloween.

Since you are here why not learn The Meaning of Halloween

To perform a crystal healing one would have themselves or their patient lay down, for several minutes and begin a meditative breath. One may optionally play ambient music to further calm the patient.

1. Crown Chakra (white/clear)
2. Third Eye Chakra (Violet/Purple)
3. Throat Chakra (Blue)
4. Heart Chakra (Green)
5. Solar Plexus Chakra (Yellow)
6. Sacral / Naval Chakra (Orange)
7. Root / Earth Chakra

Where they are placed depends upon the chakra; a particular stone would be used such for each chakra such as amethyst for the third eye.

To begin two clear quartz crystals are placed , one above the head, and another below the feet. These would be used to balance and align the chakras and other stones, for optimal vibrational healing frequency.

As the crystals are placed they are pressed gently, but firmly and the healer imagines them merging with the chakra, each stone will help to strengthen the particular core chakra and to help relax the patient.

This technique is worked from the root chakra to the crown chakra. With each stone placement the hands are either flicked or blown upon to release any cumulative energy the stones may effect. This method ensures that each chakra and stone correlation are pure and untainted.

The patient will then relax with the stones for another 15-30 minutes and at the end the stones will be carefully removed in a similar manner to their placement so as not to disturb the patients equilibrium.

Unfortunately, medical science has yet to prove any genuine medical benefit from crystal healing aside from the relaxing meditation and the patients own psychological effects. Now this is not to discount crystal healing but to merely point out that it should not be used to cure any major ailment or disease.

This whole operation may leave an outside observer with a simple question of how on earth could this heal anyone or if you are like me you are left to ask how can you feel crystal vibrations or where on earth did someone get the idea for this?

To which I can only say quartz crystals are not without their practical application. quartz crystals are used in the following applications; communications, navigation, radar, sensors, guidance systems, fuzes, atomic clocks, astronomy, & geodesy, mobile/cellular/portable radio/ telephones & pagers, computers, crt displays, disk drives, modems, watches, clocks, tvs, cb radios, pacemakers, GPS, and many more similar applications.

In all of these applications quartz crystals are valued for their unique vibrational frequencies, as well as the fact they offer, stability (with time, temperature, acceleration and radiation), low noise, low power consumption, small size, fast warm up, and they have a low life-cycle. But how are these quartz crystals used in practical application?

The quartz crystal first got noticed back in 1880 when the Curie brothers Pierre and Jacques discovered when mechanical pressure is applied to a crystal unit, electricity is generated on the surface, otherwise known as the piezoelectric effect. The most basic application is in simple ignition systems for stove. When a button is pressed a spark (electricity) is generated and light�s the pilot light. But besides this application of the quartz crystal it did not get it’s first real job until 1917 when the crystal was used in sonar devices.

Since then the Quartz crystal has been grown artificially and developed into crystal oscillators. There are four types of oscillators SPXO Simple Packaged X�Tal Oscillator, TCXO Temperature Compensated X’tal Oscillator, VCXO Voltage Controlled X’tal Oscillator and the OCXO Oven Controlled X’tal Oscillator which are used in all of the technologies I mentioned before.

It is from this modern and practical application of the quartz crystal that I believe many spiritually minded folks got the concept and idea that all crystals function on vibratory frequencies. So it is not a hard leap to imagine that one day someone was discussing information on how Crystal Oscillators function and the next someone runs with the idea that they can perform healings with crystals. It can be concluded then that there may have been a little information lost in translation. Despite all of this the one thing I can neither confirm nor deny is if crystal healings do in fact have a benefit for the soul. Since there is no quantitative or qualitative method to measure such a thing we can only surmise maybe it does or maybe it doesn’t. That said should you be curious enough to attempt or to receive a crystal healing please, don’t have any presuppositions that it can cure physical ailments. Just simply admire it for what it is, many beautiful and semi precious gem stones covering your body, while you meditate.

For more information
* Quartz Crystal Devices
* A History Of The Quartz Crystal Industry In The USA
* Quartz Crystal Oscillators

JackDirt: Can you give us a little background information about yourself?

Aunia Kahn: I truly never really know what to say in this section of interviews. It feels like one of those times in childhood classrooms where the teachers made kids stand up and announce their name to the class and have them say something about themselves. “I am Aunia Kahn, and I play with crayons”. Seriously, I grew up in a very unstable home and art, music and writing were always a refuge for me. I never thought about using my art seriously in a choice, but when a time came in my life that art was pretty much all I had keeping me from going over the edge I found a deeper love, and appreciation for the power of art in the healing aspect, and then made it my career choice after my first exhibition. The work I had done was well received; it helped me to share and helped others too.

JD: Do you have any formal art training? If so did you find it beneficial?

AK: I am a self-taught artist with no real formal training. I have always just enjoyed creating what I wanted when I wanted, and having people tell me how I should do it, and dictate projects has always been a turn-off to me. I have enough of my own ideas and projects to keep me busy, some I constantly work on to fill deadlines and some that no one may ever see. I don’t think there is anything wrong with formal training, some people need it or enjoy the process, for me, I really never have. I would prefer to converse with other artists, and creative types and discuss ideas and learn that way.

JD: Can you describe your artistic process?

AK: Sometimes I just go with an idea in my head, other times I will sketch ideas on paper and work from there. I have a random sketchbook I keep with me, so when I get ideas I can jot them down. I don’t have a consistent process each time I work, although a constant in my studio is food and music. I am always eating something.

JD: What media exactly are in your mixed media??

AK: My mixed mediums are photography, digital painting and collage all wrapped into one little tiny package. The art is kind of a hybrid form of art, which takes a bunch of disciplines adds them together, and finalizing them into one finished piece on the computer.

JD: Many of your portraits are reflective of yourself, what are your influences to use yourself as part of the artistic message?

AK: I have never been able to work effectively with models on my own personal projects. Right now my works are still very personal, raw and just me. It’s the way I feel most comfortable exploring the depths of emotions, environment, and myself due to staying tight knit and working with myself on all levels. I do commission works, collaborative works, and artwork for causes, which takes me outside that box to keep things from getting stale.

JD: You have quite an array of symbolism in your portraits, can you explain a bit about what the symbolism of some of these elements are; such as the hummingbirds, needles etc.?

AK: Some of my recent works have medical aspects to them due to a personal situation that was health related which tuned out very favorable, and so much sickness with the people I love and cherish. Also, feeling a bit out of control and powerless beyond just being supportive to those I feel I should be able to do more for results in some disheartening emotions. I think therapeutically working those emotions out gives me the ability to be open, supportive and be there for them to the best of my ability.

I see the humming birds as little perfect life givers, or takers if you will, but that depends on my mood. I tend to always have living symbols in my work it seems to come as a balance. There is a Mojave legend which tells of a primordial time when people lived in an underground world of darkness. They send a hummingbird up to look for light. I have always found we need that balance, and sometimes we need a little help.

JD: Many of your pieces seem to be a juxtapose of the holy and the distressed. Can you explain the context of this duality in a piece like Context of the World, or Salutary Absorption?

AK: I am fascinated by religion/spirituality (organized and not), death, how people enjoy or dislike distress and peace. In some way they are all polar opposites, but still somehow melding perfectly. Some people don’t enjoy peace, and others loathe distress. You can either be at peace during death, dying from personal distress, or be sickened with peace. Your religion/spirituality could be the greatest cause of peace or personal distress. They all seem very absolute, juxtaposed and/or supportive to one another.

JD: Some of your other pieces are political in context and herald back to an age of the World Wars propaganda. With Eliminate the Remedy and American Political what kind of message are you trying to convey?

Eliminate the Remedy is a very interesting piece to explain. I wasn’t trying to convey anything in particular; I was just trying to find a way to express how I was feeling at the time and share a bit of empathy. Not many people know that a very dear person to me has MS, and the syringe in my hand is one that was used to push a 1″ needle into the thigh to administer the medicine to help prevent an attack. One of our other friends, and best friend is a pilot, so hence the planes. The style comes from one not of today, but a different time and the old Red Cross uniform comes from my personal love of history and my tribute to both of them. American Political was my answer to all the ways we feel stuck in a society where people feel that they can’t change and are blindfolded to what is really going on when it comes to politics, and gender roles.

JD: Is there a particular piece you find yourself drawn to?

AK: That depends on the day. Sometimes I am really fond of a piece and other days it doesn’t faze me. The personal connections with each of my works changes like the weather.

JD: One of the things I am quite intrigued by is that you will be releasing your own tarot card set the Silver Era Tarot. I can safely say this must have been a bit of a daunting project. What inspired you to create your own tarot set?

*AK:*I was introduced to tarot in 2004 and wanted to learn to read the cards for personal use. When looking into reading tarot cards there was so much symbolism and ancient history that I was unaware of, I was immediately drawn to them. In this I thought creating my own deck would be a perfect way to learn each card since there is 78 of them to learn with pretty intense meanings and imagery to learn like knowing the reverse laying of a card has a different meaning when pulled out of he deck upright for example. I figured I would only do the major arcana (22 cards), but once I started I fell in love with the project, and getting to know the ancient art of tarot. Don’t get me wrong after about 50, I was asking myself “why” over and over again, but once I start something I am one to finish and not give up. It was years of work, but it has paid off, it’s being published by Schiffer

JD: What are your beliefs and influences with the tarot or other esoteric medium? Are there any experiences you would like to share with us??

AK: I was unsure of tarot cards as a whole since I have not been one to want to mess with the way the world’s energy works. I was misguided in the fact of how tarot works and looked at them as very taboo and bad, which they are quite the opposite. To break it down here would be a bit hard, but if people (like I was) are turned off by the taboo nature of such things they should research them, and find that they really are absolutely amazing. Moreover since I read them for myself and not typically for others I find that I am able to get answer and help to really simple questions or with making large decisions when I feel confused. I have always been one to see things, and be a bit more perceptive then others. Am I clairvoyant? Not at all, I just think I am more sensitive and aware. In this the cards work for me well, because I’m open. I think when we are open, we can learn so much. Also now there are a lot of other cards, oracle cards, angel cards, Christian cards, and much more so there is something that might be just right to use for anyone. They each share a bit of guidance within the description; each card has so much meaning that for one person it could mean something and for another something completely opposite. Even just reading the meanings of cards when they don’t even apply to you is educational, there is a bit of knowledge and bits of good advice with them. For example the “Temperance” is about balance in your life, it does go much deeper but this gives you an idea. I think overall I just hope that some of these ancient ways that we have used to connect with the divine (whatever your personal divine, or divineness is) that people will start to reconnect with and not find so taboo. To crash on a myth, the “Death” card is unlike the popular belief that it will tell you when you are going to die, or if you will die since there is not correlation usually with physical death and the “Death” card. Publishing and available in Spring 2010.

JD: Have you received any feedback as to your interpretation of the tarot?

AK: I have found that the feedback has been very delightful and supportive of the take I have on the cards. I have been told they are very true to the roots of traditional symbolism and have a very calming feel to them. They are black and white with a hint of a single color per card, which has never been done before, and people seem to enjoy the antique and classic feel of the deck design. I am excited to see once Schiffer Publishing gets the deck out to the masses what people will have to say once they are in hands and in use.

JD: Do you have any upcoming shows, products, or books you’d like to promote??

*AK:*Some of my shows, and I have more right now that are being booked:

2009.07.25, Arf Nouveau [Stray Rescue Fundraiser], St. Louis, MO
2009.07.07, 504 Style Rock Art Circus, Big Top 3 ring Circus Art Gallery, New Orleans, LA
2009.07.08, Southern Illinois Artist Competition, Mitchell Museum, Mt. Vernon, IL
Sep 2009, Solo Exhibit “Our Immaculate Fall”, Red Ear, Alto Pass, IL
2009.11.06 Solo Exhibit “Our Intimate Perception”, Concrete Ocean Gallery, St. Louis, MO?Nov 2009, All-Female Live Art/Music Event, Los Angeles, CA
Dec 2009, Politi-Pop, Altered Esthetics, Minneapolis, MN
Feb 2010, I Hate Lucy, Chicago, IL

+ I have a bunch of reasonably priced goodies in my store: auniakahn.bigcartel.com
+ Tarot Card Deck “Silver Era Tarot” will be out Spring 2010, preorders start in Dec 2009
+ Book “Obvious Remote Chaos” should be published right after the deck in 2010

I just want to thank Aunia Kahn for taking the time out for the interview, for more information and work from Aunia check her out at the below sites.

www.auniakahn.com
www.auniakahndesign.com
www.silvereratarot.com
www.lowbrowtarot.com

July 16, 1833. — This is a memorable anniversary for me; on it I complete my three hundred and twenty-third year!

The Wandering Jew? — certainly not. More than eighteen centuries have passed over his head. In comparison with him, I am a very young Immortal.

Am I, then, immortal? This is a question which I have asked myself, by day and night, for now three hundred and three years, and yet cannot answer it. I detected a grey hair amidst my brown locks this very day — that surely signifies decay. Yet it may have remained concealed there for three hundred years — for some persons have become entirely white-headed before twenty years of age.

I will tell my story, and my reader shall judge for me. I will tell my story, and so contrive to pass some few hours of a long eternity, become so wearisome to me. For ever! Can it be? to live for ever! I have heard of enchantments, in which the victims were plunged into a deep sleep, to wake, after a hundred years, as fresh as ever: I have heard of the Seven Sleepers — thus to be immortal would not be so burthensome: but, oh! the weight of never-ending time — the tedious passage of the still-succeeding hours! How happy was the fabled Nourjahad! — But to my task.

All the world has heard of Cornelius Agrippa. His memory is as immortal as his arts have made me. All the world has also heard of his scholar, who, unawares, raised the foul fiend during his master’s absence, and was destroyed by him. The report, true or false, of this accident, was attended with many inconveniences to the renowned philosopher. All his scholars at once deserted him — his servants disappeared. He had no one near him to put coals on his ever-burning fires while he slept, or to attend to the changeful colours of his medicines while he studied. Experiment after experiment failed, because one pair of hands was insufficient to complete them: the dark spirits laughed at him for not being able to retain a single mortal in his service.

I was then very young — very poor — and very much in love. I had been for about a year the pupil of Cornelius, though I was absent when this accident took place. On my return, my friends implored me not to return to the alchymist’s abode. I trembled as I listened to the dire tale they told; I required no second warning; and when Cornelius came and offered me a purse of gold if I would remain under his roof, I felt as if Satan himself tempted me. My teeth chattered — my hair stood on end; — I ran off as fast as my trembling knees would permit.

My failing steps were directed whither for two years they had every evening been attracted, — a gently bubbling spring of pure living water, beside which lingered a dark-haired girl, whose beaming eyes were fixed on the path I was accustomed each night to tread. I cannot remember the hour when I did not love Bertha; we had been neighbours and playmates from infancy, — her parents, like mine were of humble life, yet respectable, — our attachment had been a source of pleasure to them. In an evil hour, a malignant fever carried off both her father and mother, and Bertha became an orphan. She would have found a home beneath my paternal roof, but, unfortunately, the old lady of the near castle, rich, childless, and solitary, declared her intention to adopt her. Henceforth Bertha was clad in silk — inhabited a marble palace — and was looked on as being highly favoured by fortune. But in her new situation among her new associates, Bertha remained true to the friend of her humbler days; she often visited the cottage of my father, and when forbidden to go thither, she would stray towards the neighbouring wood, and meet me beside its shady fountain.

She often declared that she owed no duty to her new protectress equal in sanctity to that which bound us. Yet still I was too poor to marry, and she grew weary of being tormented on my account. She had a haughty but an impatient spirit, and grew angry at the obstacle that prevented our union. We met now after an absence, and she had been sorely beset while I was away; she complained bitterly, and almost reproached me for being poor. I replied hastily, –

“I am honest, if I am poor! — were I not, I might soon become rich!”

This exclamation produced a thousand questions. I feared to shock her by owning the truth, but she drew it from me; and then, casting a look of disdain on me, she said, –

“You pretend to love, and you fear to face the Devil for my sake!”

I protested that I had only dreaded to offend her; — while she dwelt on the magnitude of the reward that I should receive. Thus encouraged — shamed by her — led on by love and hope, laughing at my later fears, with quick steps and a light heart, I returned to accept the offers of the alchymist, and was instantly installed in my office.

A year passed away. I became possessed of no insignificant sum of money. Custom had banished my fears. In spite of the most painful vigilance, I had never detected the trace of a cloven foot; nor was the studious silence of our abode ever disturbed by demoniac howls. I still continued my stolen interviews with Bertha, and Hope dawned on me — Hope — but not perfect joy: for Bertha fancied that love and security were enemies, and her pleasure was to divide them in my bosom. Though true of heart, she was something of a coquette in manner; I was jealous as a Turk. She slighted me in a thousand ways, yet would never acknowledge herself to be in the wrong. She would drive me mad with anger, and then force me to beg her pardon. Sometimes she fancied that I was not sufficiently submissive, and then she had some story of a rival, favoured by her protectress. She was surrounded by silk-clad youths — the rich and gay. What chance had the sad-robed scholar of Cornelius compared with these?

On one occasion, the philosopher made such large demands upon my time, that I was unable to meet her as I was wont. He was engaged in some mighty work, and I was forced to remain, day and night, feeding his furnaces and watching his chemical preparations. Bertha waited for me in vain at the fountain. Her haughty spirit fired at this neglect; and when at last I stole out during a few short minutes allotted to me for slumber, and hoped to be consoled by her, she received me with disdain, dismissed me in scorn, and vowed that any man should possess her hand rather than he who could not be in two places at once for her sake. She would be revenged! And truly she was. In my dingy retreat I heard that she had been hunting, attended by Albert Hoffer. Albert Hoffer was favoured by her protectress, and the three passed in cavalcade before my smoky window. Methought that they mentioned my name; it was followed by a laugh of derision, as her dark eyes glanced contemptuously towards my abode.

Jealousy, with all its venom and all its misery, entered my breast. Now I shed a torrent of tears, to think that I should never call her mine; and, anon, I imprecated a thousand curses on her inconstancy. Yet, still I must stir the fires of the alchymist, still attend on the changes of his unintelligible medicines.

Cornelius had watched for three days and nights, nor closed his eyes. The progress of his alembics was slower than he expected: in spite of his anxiety, sleep weighted upon his eyelids. Again and again he threw off drowsiness with more than human energy; again and again it stole away his senses. He eyed his crucibles wistfully. “Not ready yet,” he murmured; “will another night pass before the work is accomplished? Winzy, you are vigilant — you are faithful — you have slept, my boy — you slept last night. Look at that glass vessel. The liquid it contains is of a soft rose-colour: the moment it begins to change hue, awaken me — till then I may close my eyes. First, it will turn white, and then emit golden flashes; but wait not till then; when the rose-colour fades, rouse me.” I scarcely heard the last words, muttered, as they were, in sleep. Even then he did not quite yield to nature. “Winzy, my boy,” he again said, “do not touch the vessel — do not put it to your lips; it is a philtre — a philtre to cure love; you would not cease to love your Bertha — beware to drink!”

And he slept. His venerable head sunk on his breast, and I scarce heard his regular breathing. For a few minutes I watched the vessel — the rosy hue of the liquid remained unchanged. Then my thoughts wandered — they visited the fountain, and dwelt on a thousand charming scenes never to be renewed — never! Serpents and adders were in my heart as the word “Never!” half formed itself on my lips. False girl! — false and cruel! Never more would she smile on me as that evening she smiled on Albert. Worthless, detested woman! I would not remain unrevenged — she should see Albert expire at her feet — she should die beneath my vengeance. She had smiled in disdain and triumph — she knew my wretchedness and her power. Yet what power had she? — the power of exciting my hate — my utter scorn — my — oh, all but indifference! Could I attain that — could I regard her with careless eyes, transferring my rejected love to one fairer and more true, that were indeed a victory!

A bright flash darted before my eyes. I had forgotten the medicine of the adept; I gazed on it with wonder: flashes of admirable beauty, more bright than those which the diamond emits when the sun’s rays are on it, glanced from the surface of the liquid; and odour the most fragrant and grateful stole over my sense; the vessel seemed one globe of living radiance, lovely to the eye, and most inviting to the taste. The first thought, instinctively inspired by the grosser sense, was, I will — I must drink. I raised the vessel to my lips. “It will cure me of love — of torture!” Already I had quaffed half of the most delicious liquor ever tasted by the palate of man, when the philosopher stirred. I started — I dropped the glass — the fluid flamed and glanced along the floor, while I felt Cornelius’s gripe at my throat, as he shrieked aloud, “Wretch! you have destroyed the labour of my life!”

The philosopher was totally unaware that I had drunk any portion of his drug. His idea was, and I gave a tacit assent to it, that I had raised the vessel from curiosity, and that, frightened at its brightness, and the flashes of intense light it gave forth, I had let it fall. I never undeceived him. The fire of the medicine was quenched — the fragrance died away — he grew calm, as a philosopher should under the heaviest trials, and dismissed me to rest.

I will not attempt to describe the sleep of glory and bliss which bathed my soul in paradise during the remaining hours of that memorable night. Words would be faint and shallow types of my enjoyment, or of the gladness that possessed my bosom when I woke. I trod air — my thoughts were in heaven. Earth appeared heaven, and my inheritance upon it was to be one trance of delight. “This it is to be cured of love,” I thought; “I will see Bertha this day, and she will find her lover cold and regardless; too happy to be disdainful, yet how utterly indifferent to her!”

The hours danced away. The philosopher, secure that he had once succeeded, and believing that he might again, began to concoct the same medicine once more. He was shut up with his books and drugs, and I had a holiday. I dressed myself with care; I looked in an old but polished shield which served me for a mirror; methoughts my good looks had wonderfully improved. I hurried beyond the precincts of the town, joy in my soul, the beauty of heaven and earth around me. I turned my steps toward the castle — I could look on its lofty turrets with lightness of heart, for I was cured of love. My Bertha saw me afar off, as I came up the avenue. I know not what sudden impulse animated her bosom, but at the sight, she sprung with a light fawn-like bound down the marble steps, and was hastening towards me. But I had been perceived by another person. The old high-born hag, who called herself her protectress, and was her tyrant, had seen me also; she hobbled, panting, up the terrace; a page, as ugly as herself, held up her train, and fanned her as she hurried along, and stopped my fair girl with a “How, now, my bold mistress? whither so fast? Back to your cage — hawks are abroad!”

Bertha clasped her hands — her eyes were still bent on my approaching figure. I saw the contest. How I abhorred the old crone who checked the kind impulses of my Bertha’s softening heart. Hitherto, respect for her rank had caused me to avoid the lady of the castle; now I disdained such trivial considerations. I was cured of love, and lifted above all human fears; I hastened forwards, and soon reached the terrace. How lovely Bertha looked! her eyes flashing fire, her cheeks glowing with impatience and anger, she was a thousand times more graceful and charming than ever. I no longer loved — oh no! I adored — worshipped — idolized her!

She had that morning been persecuted, with more than usual vehemence, to consent to an immediate marriage with my rival. She was reproached with the encouragement that she had shown him — she was threatened with being turned out of doors with disgrace and shame. Her proud spirit rose in arms at the threat; but when she remembered the scorn that she had heaped upon me, and how, perhaps, she had thus lost one whom she now regarded as her only friend, she wept with remorse and rage. At that moment I appeared. “Oh, Winzy!” she exclaimed, “take me to your mother’s cot; swiftly let me leave the detested luxuries and wretchedness of this noble dwelling — take me to poverty and happiness.”

I clasped her in my arms with transport. The old dame was speechless with fury, and broke forth into invective only when we were far on the road to my natal cottage. My mother received the fair fugitive, escaped from a gilt cage to nature and liberty, with tenderness and joy; my father, who loved her, welcomed her heartily; it was a day of rejoicing, which did not need the addition of the celestial potion of the alchymist to steep me in delight.

Soon after this eventful day, I became the husband of Bertha. I ceased to be the scholar of Cornelius, but I continued his friend. I always felt grateful to him for having, unaware, procured me that delicious draught of a divine elixir, which, instead of curing me of love (sad cure! solitary and joyless remedy for evils which seem blessings to the memory), had inspired me with courage and resolution, thus winning for me an inestimable treasure in my Bertha.

I often called to mind that period of trance-like inebriation with wonder. The drink of Cornelius had not fulfilled the task for which he affirmed that it had been prepared, but its effects were more potent and blissful than words can express. They had faded by degrees, yet they lingered long — and painted life in hues of splendour. Bertha often wondered at my lightness of heart and unaccustomed gaiety; for, before, I had been rather serious, or even sad, in my disposition. She loved me the better for my cheerful temper, and our days were winged by joy.

Five years afterwards I was suddenly summoned to the bedside of the dying Cornelius. He had sent for me in haste, conjuring my instant presence. I found him stretched on his pallet, enfeebled even to death; all of life that yet remained animated his piercing eyes, and they were fixed on a glass vessel, full of roseate liquid.

“Behold,” he said, in a broken and inward voice, “the vanity of human wishes! a second time my hopes are about to be crowned, a second time they are destroyed. Look at that liquor — you may remember five years ago I had prepared the same, with the same success; — then, as now, my thirsting lips expected to taste the immortal elixir — you dashed it from me! and at present it is too late.”

He spoke with difficulty, and fell back on his pillow. I could not help saying, –

“How, revered master, can a cure for love restore you to life?”

A faint smile gleamed across his face as I listened earnestly to his scarcely intelligible answer.

“A cure for love and for all things — the Elixir of Immortality. Ah! if now I might drink, I should live for ever!”

As he spoke, a golden flash gleamed from the fluid; a well-remembered fragrance stole over the air; he raised himself, all weak as he was — strength seemed miraculously to re-enter his frame — he stretched forth his hand — a loud explosion startled me — a ray of fire shot up from the elixir, and the glass vessel which contained it was shivered to atoms! I turned my eyes towards the philosopher; he had fallen back — his eyes were glassy — his features rigid — he was dead!

But I lived, and was to live for ever! So said the unfortunate alchymist, and for a few days I believed his words. I remembered the glorious intoxication that had followed my stolen draught. I reflected on the change I had felt in my frame — in my soul. The bounding elasticity of the one — the buoyant lightness of the other. I surveyed myself in a mirror, and could perceive no change in my features during the space of the five years which had elapsed. I remembered the radiant hues and grateful scent of that delicious beverage — worthy the gift it was capable of bestowing — I was, then, IMMORTAL!

A few days after I laughed at my credulity. The old proverb, that “a prophet is least regarded in his own country,” was true with respect to me and my defunct master. I loved him as a man — I respected him as a sage — but I derided the notion that he could command the powers of darkness, and laughed at the superstitious fears with which he was regarded by the vulgar. He was a wise philosopher, but had no acquaintance with any spirits but those clad in flesh and blood. His science was simply human; and human science, I soon persuaded myself, could never conquer nature’s laws so far as to imprison the soul for ever within its carnal habitation. Cornelius had brewed a soul-refreshing drink — more inebriating than wine — sweeter and more fragrant than any fruit: it possessed probably strong medicinal powers, imparting gladness to the heart and vigour to the limbs; but its effects would wear out; already they were diminished in my frame. I was a lucky fellow to have quaffed health and joyous spirits, and perhaps a long life, at my master’s hands; but my good fortune ended there: longevity was far different from immortality.

I continued to entertain this belief for many years. Sometimes a thought stole across me — Was the alchymist indeed deceived? But my habitual credence was, that I should meet the fate of all the children of Adam at my appointed time — a little late, but still at a natural age. Yet it was certain that I retained a wonderfully youthful look. I was laughed at for my vanity in consulting the mirror so often, but I consulted it in vain — my brow was untrenched — my cheeks — my eyes — my whole person continued as untarnished as in my twentieth year.

I was troubled. I looked at the faded beauty of Bertha — I seemed more like her son. By degrees our neighbors began to make similar observations, and I found at last that I went by the name of the Scholar bewitched. Bertha herself grew uneasy. She became jealous and peevish, and at length she began to question me. We had no children; we were all in all to each other; and though, as she grew older, her vivacious spirit became a little allied to ill-temper, and her beauty sadly diminished, I cherished her in my heart as the mistress I idolized, the wife I had sought and won with such perfect love.

At last our situation became intolerable: Bertha was fifty — I twenty years of age. I had, in very shame, in some measure adopted the habits of advanced age; I no longer mingled in the dance among the young and gay, but my heart bounded along with them while I restrained my feet; and a sorry figure I cut among the Nestors of our village. But before the time I mention, things were altered — we were universally shunned; we were — at least, I was — reported to have kept up an iniquitous acquaintance with some of my former master’s supposed friends. Poor Bertha was pitied, but deserted. I was regarded with horror and detestation.

What was to be done? we sat by our winter fire — poverty had made itself felt, for none would buy the produce of my farm; and often I had been forced to journey twenty miles to some place where I was not known, to dispose of our property. It is true, we had saved something for an evil day — that day was come.

We sat by our lone fireside — the old-hearted youth and his antiquated wife. Again Bertha insisted on knowing the truth; she recapitulated all she had ever heard said about me, and added her own observations. She conjured me to cast off the spell; she described how much more comely grey hairs were than my chestnut locks; she descanted on the reverence and respect due to age — how preferable to the slight regard paid to mere children: could I imagine that the despicable gifts of youth and good looks outweighed disgrace, hatred and scorn? Nay, in the end I should be burnt as a dealer in the black art, while she, to whom I had not deigned to communicate any portion of my good fortune, might be stoned as my accomplice. At length she insinuated that I must share my secret with her, and bestow on her like benefits to those I myself enjoyed, or she would denounce me — and then she burst into tears.

Thus beset, methought it was the best way to tell the truth. I reveled it as tenderly as I could, and spoke only of a very long life, not of immortality — which representation, indeed, coincided best with my own ideas. When I ended I rose and said,–

“And now, my Bertha, will you denounce the lover of your youth? — You will not, I know. But it is too hard, my poor wife, that you should suffer for my ill-luck and the accursed arts of Cornelius. I will leave you — you have wealth enough, and friends will return in my absence. I will go; young as I seem and strong as I am, I can work and gain my bread among strangers, unsuspected and unknown. I loved you in youth; God is my witness that I would not desert you in age, but that your safety and happiness require it.”

I took my cap and moved toward the door; in a moment Bertha’s arms were round my neck, and her lips were pressed to mine. “No, my husband, my Winzy,” she said, “you shall not go alone — take me with you; we will remove from this place, and, as you say, among strangers we shall be unsuspected and safe. I am not so old as quite to shame you, my Winzy; and I daresay the charm will soon wear off, and, with the blessing of God, you will become more elderly-looking, as is fitting; you shall not leave me.”

I returned the good soul’s embrace heartily. “I will not, my Bertha; but for your sake I had not thought of such a thing. I will be your true, faithful husband while you are spared to me, and do my duty by you to the last.”

The next day we prepared secretly for our emigration. We were obliged to make great pecuniary sacrifices — it could not be helped. We realized a sum sufficient, at least, to maintain us while Bertha lived; and, without saying adieu to any one, quitted our native country to take refuge in a remote part of western France.

It was a cruel thing to transport poor Bertha from her native village, and the friends of her youth, to a new country, new language, new customs. The strange secret of my destiny rendered this removal immaterial to me; but I compassionated her deeply, and was glad to perceive that she found compensation for her misfortunes in a variety of little ridiculous circumstances. Away from all tell-tale chroniclers, she sought to decrease the apparent disparity of our ages by a thousand feminine arts — rouge, youthful dress, and assumed juvenility of manner. I could not be angry. Did I not myself wear a mask? Why quarrel with hers, because it was less successful? I grieved deeply when I remembered that this was my Bertha, whom I had loved so fondly and won with such transport — the dark-eyed, dark-haired girl, with smiles of enchanting archness and a step like a fawn — this mincing, simpering, jealous old woman. I should have revered her grey locks and withered cheeks; but thus! — It was my work, I knew; but I did not the less deplore this type of human weakness.

Her jealously never slept. Her chief occupation was to discover that, in spite of outward appearances, I was myself growing old. I verily believe that the poor soul loved me truly in her heart, but never had woman so tormenting a mode of displaying fondness. She would discern wrinkles in my face and decrepitude in my walk, while I bounded along in youthful vigour, the youngest looking of twenty youths. I never dared address another woman. On one occasion, fancying that the belle of the village regarded me with favouring eyes, she brought me a grey wig. Her constant discourse among her acquaintances was, that though I looked so young, there was ruin at work within my frame; and she affirmed that the worst symptom about me was my apparent health. My youth was a disease, she said, and I ought at all times to prepare, if not for a sudden and awful death, at least to awake some morning white-headed and bowed down with all the marks of advanced years. I let her talk — I often joined in her conjectures. Her warnings chimed in with my never-ceasing speculations concerning my state, and I took an earnest, though painful, interest in listening to all that her quick wit and excited imagination could say on the subject.

Why dwell on these minute circumstances? We lived on for many long years. Bertha became bedrid and paralytic; I nursed her as a mother might a child. She grew peevish, and still harped upon one string — of how long I should survive her. It has ever been a source of consolation to me, that I performed my duty scrupulously towards her. She had been mine in youth, she was mine in age; and at last, when I heaped the sod over her corpse, I wept to feel that I had lost all that really bound me to humanity.

Since then how many have been my cares and woes, how few and empty my enjoyments! I pause here in my history — I will pursue it no further. A sailor without rudder or compass, tossed on a stormy sea — a traveller lost on a widespread heath, without landmark or stone to guide him — such I have been: more lost, more hopeless than either. A nearing ship, a gleam from some far cot, may save them; but I have no beacon except the hope of death.

Death! mysterious, ill-visaged friend of weak humanity! Why alone of all mortals have you cast me from your sheltering fold? Oh, for the peace of the grave! the deep silence of the iron-bound tomb! that thought would cease to work in my brain, and my heart beat no more with emotions varied only by new forms of sadness!

Am I immortal? I return to my first question. In the first place, is it not more probably that the beverage of the alchymist was fraught rather with longevity than eternal life? Such is my hope. And then be it remembered, that I only drank half of the potion prepared by him. Was not the whole necessary to complete the charm? To have drained half the Elixir of Immortality is but to be half-immortal — my For-ever is thus truncated and null.

But again, who shall number the years of the half of eternity? I often try to imagine by what rule the infinite may be divided. Sometimes I fancy age advancing upon me. One grey hair I have found. Fool! do I lament? Yes, the fear of age and death often creeps coldly into my heart; and the more I live, the more I dread death, even while I abhor life. Such an enigma is man — born to perish — when he wars, as I do, against the established laws of his nature.

But for this anomaly of feeling surely I might die: the medicine of the alchymist would not be proof against fire — sword — and the strangling waters. I have gazed upon the blue depths of many a placid lake, and the tumultuous rushing of many a mighty river, and have said, peace inhabits those waters; yet I have turned my steps away, to live yet another day. I have asked myself, whether suicide would be a crime in one to whom thus only the portals of the other world could be opened. I have done all, except presenting myself as a soldier or duelist, an objection of destruction to my — no, not my fellow mortals, and therefore I have shrunk away. They are not my fellows. The inextinguishable power of life in my frame, and their ephemeral existence, places us wide as the poles asunder. I could not raise a hand against the meanest or the most powerful among them.

Thus have I lived on for many a year — alone, and weary of myself — desirous of death, yet never dying — a mortal immortal. Neither ambition nor avarice can enter my mind, and the ardent love that gnaws at my heart, never to be returned — never to find an equal on which to expend itself — lives there only to torment me.

This very day I conceived a design by which I may end all — without self-slaughter, without making another man a Cain — an expedition, which mortal frame can never survive, even endued with the youth and strength that inhabits mine. Thus I shall put my immortality to the test, and rest for ever — or return, the wonder and benefactor of the human species.

Before I go, a miserable vanity has caused me to pen these pages. I would not die, and leave no name behind. Three centuries have passed since I quaffed the fatal beverage; another year shall not elapse before, encountering gigantic dangers — warring with the powers of frost in their home — beset by famine, toil, and tempest — I yield this body, too tenacious a cage for a soul which thirsts for freedom, to the destructive elements of air and water; or, if I survive, my name shall be recorded as one of the most famous among the sons of men; and, my task achieved, I shall adopt more resolute means, and, by scattering and annihilating the atoms that compose my frame, set at liberty the life imprisoned within, and so cruelly prevented from soaring from this dim earth to a sphere more congenial to its immortal essence.

1. Rise with the sun to pray. Pray alone. Pray often. The Great Spirit will listen, if you only speak.

2. Be tolerant of those who are lost on their path. Ignorance, conceit, anger, jealousy – and greed stem from a lost soul. Pray that they will find guidance.

3. Search for yourself, by yourself. Do not allow others to make your path for you. It is your road, and yours alone. Others may walk it with you, but no one can walk it for you.

4. Treat the guests in your home with much consideration. Serve them the best food, give them the best bed and treat them with respect and honor.

5. Do not take what is not yours whether from a person, a community, the wilderness or from a culture. It was not earned nor given. It is not yours.

6. Respect all things that are placed upon this earth – whether it be people or plant.

7. Honor other people’s thoughts, wishes and words. Never interrupt another or mock or rudely mimic them. Allow each person the right to personal expression.

8. Never speak of others in a bad way. The negative energy that you put out into the universe will multiply when it returns to you.

In addition to that we are working hard on editing and reformatting some of our content to be released as a possible book / e-book. A larger undertaking than I had initially suspected. That said I want to thank all of you for your continued patronage and for not giving up on us. With out you we would not be where we are today in the world of the Internet.

Sincerely,
JackDirt