Unurthed

Three Orthodox icons, the painting of which is described in Pavel Florensky‘s Iconostasis. Thanks go to Polymathicus for recommending this essential text.

Archangel Gabriel icon, 16th century.

“In creating a work of art, the psyche or soul of the artist ascends from the earthly realm into the heavenly; there, free of all images, the soul is fed in contemplation by the essences of the highest realm, knowing the permanent noumena of things; then, satiated with this knowing, it descends again to the earthly realm. And precisely at the boundary between the two worlds, the soul’s spiritual knowledge assumes the shapes of symbolic imagery: and it is these images that make permanent the work of art. Art is thus the materialized dream, separated from the ordinary consciousness of waking life.

“In this separation, there are two moments that yield, in the artwork, two types of imagery: the moment of ascent into the heavenly realm, and the moment of descent into the earthly world. At the crossing of the boundary into the upper world, the soul sheds — like outworn clothes — the images of our everyday emptiness, the psychic effluvia that cannot find a place above, those elements of our being that are not spiritually grounded. At the point of descent and re-entry, on the other hand, the images are experiences of mystical life crystallized out on the boundary of two worlds. Thus, an artist misunderstands (and so causes us to misunderstand) when he puts into his art those images that come to him during the uprushing of his inspiration — if, that is, it is only the imagery of the soul’s ascent. We need, instead, his early morning dreams, those dreams that carry the coolness of the eternal azure. The other imagery is merely psychic raw material, no matter how powerfully it affects him (and us), no matter how artistically and tastefully developed in the artwork. Once we understand this difference, we can easily distinguish the ‘moment’ of an artistic image: the descending image, even if incoherently motivated in the work, is nevertheless abundantly teleological; hence, it is a crystal of time in an imaginal space. The image of ascent, on the other hand, even if bursting with artistic coherence, is merely a mechanism constructed in accordance with the moment of its psychic genesis. When we pass from ordinary reality into the imagined space, naturalism generates imaginary portrayals whose similarity to everyday life creates an empty image of the real. The opposite art — symbolism — born of the descent, incarnates in real images the experience of the highest realm; hence, this imagery — which is symbolic imagery — attains a super-reality” (p44-5).

Black Madonna of Czestochowa icon, 14th century.

“Icons, as St. Dionysus Aeropagite says, are ‘visible images of mysterious and supernatural visions.’ An icon is therefore always either more than itself in becoming for us an image of a heavenly vision or less than itself in failing to open our consciousness to the world beyond our senses — then it is merely a board with some paint on it. Thus, the contemporary view that sees iconpainting as an ancient fine art is profoundly false. It is false, first of all, because the very assumption that a fine art possesses its own intrinsic power is, in itself, false: a fine art is either greater or less than itself. Any instance of fine art (such as a painting) reaches its goal when it carries the viewer beyond the limitations of empirically seen colors on canvas and into a specific reality, for a painting shares with all symbolic work the basic ontological characteristic of seeking to be that which it symbolizes. But if a painter fails to attain this end, either for a specific group of viewers or for the world in general, so that his painting leads no one beyond itself, then his work unquestionably fails to be art; we then call it mere daubs of paint, and so on. Now, an icon reaches its goal when it leads our consciousness out into the spiritual realm where we behold ‘mysterious and supernatural visions.’ If this goal is not reached — if neither the steadily empathic gaze nor the swiftly intuitive glance evokes in the viewer the reality of the other world (as the pungent scent of seaweed in the air evokes in us the still faraway ocean), then nothing can be said of that icon except that it has failed to enter into the works of spiritual culture and that its value is therefore either merely material or (at best) archaeological” (p65-6).

Prophet Elijah icon, 15th century.

“Both metaphysics and iconpainting are grounded on the same rational fact (or factual rationality) concerning a spiritual appearance: which is that, in anything sensuously given, the senses wholly penetrate it in such a way that the thing has nothing abstract in it but is entirely incarnated sense and comprehended visuality. A Christian metaphysician will therefore never lose concreteness and so, for him, an icon is always sensuously given; equally, the iconpainter can never employ a visual technique that has no metaphysical sensuousness. But the fact that the Christian philosopher consciously compares iconpainting and ontology does not lead the iconpainter to use the philosopher’s terms; rather, the iconpainter expresses Christian ontology not through a study of its teachings but by philosophizing with his brush. It is no accident that the supreme masters of iconpainting were, in the ancient texts, called philosophers; for, although they did not write a single abstract word, these masters (illumined by divine vision) testified to the incarnate Word with their hands and fingers, philosophizing truly through their colors” (p152).

Four drawings by Salvador Dali from his 1948 50 Secrets of Magic Craftsmanship.

Isocahedron, p109.

“Know at once that among the most inexplicable secrets of nature and of creation is that which rules that the number of five governs the animal and vegetable world, that is to say, the organic world, but that on the other hand never, never does this number of five occur in the mineral or inorganic world. So that if the pentagon must become for you the archetypal figure, since in your painting you must express without discontinuity only the quintessence of the organic, the hexagon on the contrary must be considered by you the prototype of your antitype, as well as all its derived crystallizations which are the inorganic ones of the mineral realm.

“You have thus just understood, in learning this, the profound reason of what your painter’s intuition had so surely revealed to you when you confessed to me that you had always detested without knowing why the decorative charm of crystallizations, and especially the congealed, blind, additioned and arithmetical ones of snow. If you do not like them, and are so right in not liking them, it is because your art of painting is exactly the contrary of decorative art, since it is — as you now know — a cognitive art” (p168-9).

Sea urchin, p174.

“I shall… enlighten you without wasting a moment as to Secret Number 45, which concerns the aesthetic virtues of… the sea urchin, in which all the magic splendors and virtues of pentagonal geometry are found resolved, a creature weighted with royal gravity and which does not even need a crown for, being a drop held in perfect balance by the surface tension of its liquid, it is world, cupola and crown at one and the same time, hence universe!

“Bow your head, now, toward the depths of those other celestial abysses of the white calms of the Mediterranean Sea and pull out a sea urchin and accustom yourself to considering the entire universe through the geometric quintessence of its teeth, which form a kind of cosmogonic and pentagonal flower in its lower orifice where is lodged its chewing apparatus, called ‘Aristotle’s lantern’… Painter, take my advice: keep even beside your easel or somewhere close to your work a sea urchin’s skeleton, so that its little weight may serve by its sole presence in your meditations, just as the weight of a human skull attends at every moment those of saints and anchorites. For the latter, since they lived constantly in their ecstasies and celestial ravishments, required the presence of the skull which, like the ballast, held them to their earthly and human condition; while you, painter, live only in those other ecstasies and ravishments which are given to you, on the contrary, by matter and its viscosity. And you will need that blue-tinged skeleton of the sea urchin which, by its lack of weight, will constantly remind you of the celestial regions which the sensuality of your oils and your media might so easily cause you to forget. Thus the mystic who lives only in the celestial paradise bears in his hand a terrestrial skeleton: the skull of man; while the painter who is an Epicurean — for even if he is often a Stoic in his work, he never ceases to live in terrestrial paradises — must bear in his hand the sea urchin, which is like the very skeleton of heaven” (p175-6).

Painter and saint, p174.

“For remember once more that the painter’s head has already been adequately compared, successively and in each of these four chapters to an oil lamp which gives light, to the hump of a ruminant whose mouth is like the eye of a lamp which gives light, to a Bernard hermit who lives within the shell of your skull, and whose red teeth are the arms of the painter which, like a flame of light, also illuminate the picture. And now to give you even more pleasure, I shall without more ado compare this same painter’s head, not to a Bernard the hermit but to a miller who is also, like yourself, a kind of hermit who ruminates and masticates and grinds in the mill of his brain which is the storehouse and attic of reserve images of the camel’s hump; in which the grain of intelligence lies piled, that luminous quintessence, that flow of wheat which is the whiteness of the earth with which you are to knead that daily bread of painting, which thus becomes again the prayer which the painter, with his flour which is the terrestrial luminosity of this world below, daily lifts toward the celestial luminosities of the above. For all the mystery and miraculous humble aspiration of the man painter is nothing less than to make light, radiant and divine, with white and earth colors which are dull and sere” (p150).

Young and adult sea urchin, p108.

A diagram by Joseph Campbell appearing in The Power of Myth, which I have redrawn.

“A pedagogical stunt. Plato has said somewhere that the soul is a circle. I took this idea to suggest on the blackboard the whole sphere of the psyche. Then I drew a horizontal line across the circle to represent the line of separation of the conscious and the unconscious. The dot in the center of the circle, below the horizontal line, represents the center from which all our energy comes… Above the horizontal line is the ego, which I represented as a square: that aspect of our consciousness that we identify as our center. But, you see, it’s very much off center. We think that this is what’s running the show, but it isn’t” (p142).

Three illustrations from Joseph Campbell’s The Power of Myth.

“There’s a very interesting statement about the origin of the Grail. One early writer says that the Grail was brought from heaven by the neutral angels. You see, during the war in heaven between God and Satan, between good and evil, some angelic hosts sided with Satan and some with God. The Grail was brought down through the middle by the neutral angels. It represents that spiritual path that is between pairs of opposites, between fear and desire, between good and evil” (p195-6).

Angels carrying grail, The Playfair Book of Hours, fifteenth century (p196).

Another [source for the Holy Grail] “is that there is a cauldron of plenty in the mansion of the god of the sea, down in the depths of the unconscious. It is out of the depths of the unconscious that the energies of life come to us. This cauldron is the inexhaustible source, the center, the bubbling spring from which all life proceeds… [It is] not only the unconscious but also the vale of the world. Things are coming to life around you all the time. There is a life pouring into the world, and it pours from an inexhaustible source” (p217).

Jonah the whale.

“When life comes into being, it is neither afraid nor desiring, it is just becoming. Then it gets into being, and it begins to be afraid and desiring. When you can get rid of fear and desire and just get back to where you’re becoming, you’ve hit the spot” (p218).

“The Grail becomes symbolic of an authentic life that is lived in terms of its own volition, in terms of its own impulse system, that carries itself between the pairs of opposites of good and evil, light and dark” (p197).

The fire-theft. Valeriano, Hieroglyphica, 1586 (p128).

“Many visionaries and even leaders and heroes [are] close to the edge of neuroticism… They’ve moved out of the society that would have protected them, and into the dark forest, into the world of fire, of original experience. Original experience has not been interpreted for you, and so you’ve got to work out your life for yourself. Either you can take it or you can’t. You don’t have to go far off the interpreted path to find yourself in very difficult situations. The courage to face the trials and to bring a whole new body of possibilities into the field of interpreted experiences for other people to experience — that is the hero’s deed” (p41).

Three illustrations from Andre Vandenbroeck’s Philosophical Geometry.

Philosophical Geometry contrasts with axiomatic geometry: the latter “discipline is founded on a group of propositions considered self-evident or necessary, from which a chain of further propositions can be deduced” (p3), whereas Philosophical Geometry is a “property of mind in general and not a specialty of the analytic mind… For example, in ‘Meno’, Plato shows geometry as a birthright of mind in general: Meno’s slave, unhampered by his lack of background, comprehends a geometric necessity with which Socrates confronts him” (p4).

Philosophical Geometry consists of theoria and practica. “Theoria is the adequate expression of geometric experience. As such, it is dependent upon the perception of the geometer; it is a subject… Practica is a necessary structure of two-dimensional events and is independent of the geometer’s perception. It is the object of the discipline… The aim of Philosophical Geometry is the individual elaboration of theoria… Theoria depends upon practica through the perception of the geometer, and it is due to the variance in perception that differences in practica occur” (p12).

Therefore, geometry is the product of geometric gesture.

“On a homogeneous two-dimensional field best termed a plane, the stylus is posited in a gesture of inscription. The contact of stylus with plane breaks the homogeneity of the undifferentiated surface into a heterogeneity of the point of contact and the remainder of the plane… Whatever the final complexity of inscription, the [practica] must pass through this initial stage: the contact of stylus with plane” (p17).

“Practica can progress beyond the point only by motion of the stylus. Motion of the stylus produces an inscription best termed a line” (p17-8).

“To qualify the line as a two-dimensional element is a contradiction in terms. A line cannot be a surface. And yet, contrary to the point, it cannot be considered an ideal indivisible marking. Although, as line, it cannot be a surface, it clings to the plane by a dimension of length and thus forces upon contemplation a second dimension of width which is the thickness of the inscripting stylus” (p18).

“To examine the line, motion of stylus has to be arrested… If the motion of stylus is not arrested, a continuous line results. This uniform, indefinitely prolonged motion of stylus finds its perfect representation only in the circle” (p18-9).

Five hexes (of the Pow-wow variety) drawn by Lee R. Gandee in his 1971 autobiography, Strange Experience.

“All of the Hex signs included in this book… are personal. Again I must emphasize that Hex is a creative art. A Hex needs not copy slavishly the work of any other Hex. He draws ideas from it, and makes it his own by selection of motifs…” (p315).

“The Rain that Refreshes the Soul: A symbol referring to spiritual water, the field to be watered as the human soul, and to the rainbow of promise. A sign asking for inspiration, insight, and creativity” (p187).

“The Sign of Creation, Manifestation, and Materialization: An affirmation of the Hex rule ‘As above, so below’, and of man’s power to create through mental and spiritual action. The flanking symbols are Earth-Star signs, calling for all the good things of earth and earthly joys” (p115).

“A Hex knows a thought to be a thing — a form with an electronic force field, so when he arranges his motifs what he is really doing is sending out into the universe a telepathic blueprint image of what he wishes materialized. Nature is so constituted that the image tends to be materialized and sent back. To be a witch, one must be able to send sustained images far enough out to attract enough energy to effect the materialization…” (p316).

“The Double Creator’s Star: A diagram of the internal lines of force which hold matter in form. It is a sign seeking permanent enjoyment of abundance” (p151).

“All my experience suggests that ‘magic’ power is derived from the action of the mind at a subconscious level. A symbol is more potent than a naturalistic representation simply because a realistic drawing is interpreted mainly at the conscious level… In solitude and secrecy, the mind thinks in symbols” (p312-3).

“The Sign of the Horns: Protection against the ‘Evil Eye’ and Black Magic. Looking here, the evil eye stares into the eye of God, and the devil is balked in all directions by the ‘horns’ of the Earth Star” (p236).

“To fake magic and secure magical results is a profoundly instructive experience” (p336).

“A Petschaft or Wunder-Sigel Design. For curing sickness or stimulating sexual activity” (p101).

“For a thousand years, the ritual answer to that question [‘can you cure me?’] has been, ‘I will try’. A ‘user’ should never promise a cure; he may find himself unable to concentrate sufficiently. He may become involved emotionally — even find himself questioning whether the individual deserves help. Fatigue, distraction — and emotional, psychic, and physical factors often too obscure to recognize — may intervene. If the cure does come from God, it comes only through the agency of the human mind, and man does not know his mind well enough to make guarantees. If one can avoid emotion, hold off the temptation to judge the individual, and concentrate fully on the pow-wow, usually one succeeds if he has any power at all” (p130).

Eight illustrations by Stanislav Szukalski from Behold!!! The Protong — a sampling of his 39 volume oeuvre on the science of Zermatism.

Szukalski was a polymath who, over a lifetime, developed a science that integrated singular theories in geology (cyclic deluges), anthropology (universal pictographs), linguistics (Protong, a universal first language), zoology (Yeti), anthropolitics (Yetinsyn), with many etceteras. Common to his arguments is an overwhelming accretion of the visual evidence.

“Looking through thousands of illustrated books, I have learned how to SEE. Since childhood I have been addicted to seeing ‘pictures’ in books… I learned not only to look, but really SEE, for I did not know English yet and had to jump to CONCLUSIONS. In fact, I evolved the, to other people unnatural, instinct for UNDERSTANDING things, without knowing what they were. Looking became my life’s OBSESSION. When I am dying I will despair over the fact that I will no more be able to Look and See” (p14).

A sample of Szukalski’s science, on the subject of tribal flood scumlines:

“When the Secondary Globe (the lavaic ocean bottoms) began to submerge in the beginning of the last Farsolar Epoch, the global seas were forced to glide off the Primary (Geologic) Globe. The soil of all the lands that were re-emerging was washed off by the departing seas and the water of the globe became very muddy. In fact, Plato, after visiting Egyptian temples, learned of the chronicles that spoke of the Mediterranan Sea as ‘The Sea of Mud’. Homer’s Iliad was about Ilium (the Latin word for ancient Troy) which in Protong means ‘Mire Remembered’. The state of Illinois, U.S.A. is named after the Illinois River, and in Protong (‘Illi No J(e) Z’) actually means ‘Mire made-Born is From’.

“Wherever the terrified diluvial escapees shored re-emerging lands, their faces were caked with mud. And since each swam differently, each would emerge with individual muddy water ripples across the face. So when they lay there in the mud in the deadly faint, exhausted beyond words, and were found by earlier arrivees on that islet, the facial mud markings were remembered and the Flood Scumlines became the tribal markings. I have an entire volume on these Scumlines with 195 such drawings from every part of the globe” (p31).

Here are a few examples:

A head from Rapa Nui (Easter Island). “The horizontal line [the Flood Scumline] below the nose clearly shows that the ancestor swam to that island in the last Nearsolar Deluge” (p19).

“In Equador and the vicinity of the Panama Canal there are Indians who paint their bodies with black lines emulating the waters in which they stood. They repeat the same lines on their faces, but the topmost of these crosses their noses, just below the eyes. This means that their diluvial ancestor buried his face under the water while swimming and made a stronger stroke with his arms when he came up to get air” (p25).

“This Eskimo’s diluvial ancestor swam with the nostrils under water, coming up to inhale while starting his arm strokes” (p20).

“One of the many funerary jars for holding the ashes of the cremated dead. This one is from prehistoric Poland… Atop the head reposes the cover in the shape of Easter Island. On their necks are many metal necklaces and, as in this one, the image vomits the salt water of the sea. These rings on the neck emulate the water ripples spreading from a drowning person. Usually, there is a large ‘spzilla’ (Polish for ‘pin’) as a Rebus for ‘Z Bi La’ [Protong], which tells us that the person cremated came ‘From Killed (by) Flood’ land and to there was returning” (p22).

“The Chiaco Indian tribe of Equador continue to mark their faces with the Flood Scumline on the very rim of their upper lip” (p20).

“A funerary portrait of a young man drawn from the lid of a large jar that holds the ashes of a cremated man. It was excavated in Italy and dates from the Etruscan period. On the man’s face the ancient tribal Flood Scumline was engraved, crossing his mask just below his nose, emulating a beard. However, the vertical direction of continuous lines tells us that this is really the draining water, heavy with mud.

“The two small circles on the chin and the edge of ripples around them made me turn the drawing upside down and there I saw that the mask resembled the Great Lioness (Easter Island), streaked with sliding-off water as if re-emerging from under the Flood” (p26).

An indication that contemporary Manapes also survived the Deluge:

“Among ancient carvings of the Dorset Culture of the Point Barrow region in Alaska, this mask was discovered which white men assume is an imaginary Devil. But you can plainly see that it is a portrait of a local Sasquatch. Incidentally, in the vertical lines we have a marvelous document. They were carved there to let us know that this creature, like the ancestors of the Alaskan Eskimos, also saved himself from the Deluge, for any lines, vertical or horizontal, represent ‘waters’, hence the Great Flood. There is still another pictograph, besides the vertical draining-off of muddy water. It is the horizontal line just below the nostrils which, by being placed above the water level, tell us that his breath, his SOUL, was saved” (p77).

“Those that saved themselves from drowning, noticed that these creatures also had the fortune to survive, so they named them accordingly, everywhere on this globe in one language, my Protong. The present name Sasquatch was then ‘Sa Z Gladz’, which means ‘Here From Destroyed’ (i.e. the deluged continent)” (p75-6).

All who eagerly perceive the as yet unnamed are vagabonds.

Two diagrams from John Hazelrigg’s The Sun Book (1916), which reconciles astro-theology, alchemy, and the allegory of Christ.

Man is a “fourfold unit as concerns the elements of his constitution, each of which acts through the threefold essences of his being [Mercury, Sulphur, and Salt; or Spirit, Soul, and Body]; and expressed accordingly each by a triangular symbol, thus: ? Earth, ? Fire, ? Water, ? Air… The field enclosed by the basic lines of these four ideographs is an equilateral square (base of the pyramid), typifying the human cosmos as a reflection of the fourfoldness of the Microcosm. With these folded over, as with an envelope, the apex of each centers at the navel, which is the All-Seeing or Psychic Eye.

“These again are summarized in the… interlaced triangle — the Solomonic Seal — the three lines composing the upright symbol signifying Spirit-fire-air, the masculine trinity; the one inverted is Soul-water-earth, or the feminine trinity; — not separate identities, but differentiations or diverse modes of activity of the One Essence. Combined, these two symbols represent Man-Woman as the substance of the six days of Creation… The seventh day, or the central point equidistant from the six apices of the triangles, signifies not a state of rest, but of equilibrium or repose in the formative processes, and whereat — the investment completed — is inaugurated a new departure in the realms of becoming” (p156-8).

This creation is an allegory for the “interior experiences of every disciple in the path of Initiation. It is thus that the microcosmic system is transformed from a sepulcher of vanities into a tabernacle of divine realities” (p160).

Briefly (too briefly), these six stages are:

1. Nativity, fermentation: “the manifestation of an energy that induces to decomposition, that the elements of bodies may be re-combined in new compounds… that creates a condition of inter-repellence that breaks up and dissolves, to the end of a higher refinement and a more subtle re-arrangement of the relativities, both as concerns physical and spiritual substance” (p161-2). This energy, this vital heat, is the fire of the microcosmic Sun, the Spirit.

2. Baptism, betrothal: of the Soul to the Spirit: a necessary duality: a Divine Marriage between the radical moisture of the microcosmic Moon (Woman) and the vital heat of the microcosmic Sun (Man), whereby the Soul is vivified and may infuse into the Body. Whence the initiate must now confront the four elements of his inner nature.

3. Temptation, earth: “through bodily cleansing the entire structural constitution is gradually metamorphosed and sensitized — the protoplasmic fluids seek new currents — the intermolecular ethers grow more penetrant and corrective in cellular transformations, and the aberrancies and the chimeras that constitute the confusions of the microcosmic wilderness are quelled and corrected through conflict with the sensuous incitements — the sex desires, gluttony, the physical vanities, and the carnalities of the animal nature” (p166).

4. Passion, calcination, fire: the cleansing of the Mind: “here the Higher Will is constrained to do battle with the glamors of Illusion, to overcome the seductive sophistries of Reason, the material Logic that betrays” (p168). “Only in passivity of mind doth the Divine principle express itself” (p174).

5. Gethsemane, dissolution, water: “whence is evolved the intro-vision that feels and knows and does not reason” (p170). This element “claims attention to physical ablution, an important point in connection with which is the fact that the pores of the skin as exhaling media do but represent a function correlative with that of inspiration. In- and out-breathing are not exclusively a specific action of the lungs, for every capillary duct is an avenue of communication with the Universal” (p174).

6. Crucifixion, sublimation, air: “thence through the aeration of the blood the fire at the center of soul is evoked” (p175). “This is the point of Equilibrium” (p172), the “interlaced halves of his being… linked with the Supernal Center” (p176).

“Man is both the artificer and the laboratory. He is the agent and patient, the principle and the personification; he is at once God’s most gifted craftsman and Almighty’s most interesting workshop; he is the Philosopher’s subject-matter, as also the alchemical vase in which it is leavened into holy consistencies — a consortment of perversities and concupiscences, yet a god in the making. He is a circumference, whose center is an altar of divinity where abide the fires of Hestia, whether in abeyance or irradiating forth as the rivers which flowed from out of Eden to water the Garden; for here, housed in clay, guarded by the keepers of the mystical gates, and battlemented with physiological ramparts, is the fabled Eden in which still walk Adam and Eve, as at the dawn of Time; where still crawls the slimy serpent, and where groweth the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” (p147).

A 1349 painting by Zhu Derun, reproduced in Three Thousand Years of Chinese Painting.

Hunlu tu [Primordial Chaos], handscroll, ink on paper, p163. Click image for larger version.

James Cahill describes the painting: “Hunlun refers to the great undifferentiated matter out of which the cosmos was formed, and the philosophical intent of the work is stated in Zhu’s inscription, which takes the form of a brief essay on this Daoist cosmological concept. Hunlun, he writes, is not square but round, not round but square. Before the appearance of heaven and earth there were no forms, and yet forms existed; after the appearance of heaven and earth forms existed, but their constant expansion and contraction, or unfurling and furling, makes them beyond measuring.

“The work, in keeping with this theme, is part picture, part cosmic diagram. The objects in it represent, among other things, states of transformation, or rates of growth and decay: very slow in the earth and rock, somewhat faster in the pine, faster still in the wind-blown, ‘unfurling’ vines. One might be tempted to read the circle at the right as another symbol of change, the inconstant moon, or its reflection in the water, but it is too large and too abstract to encourage that reading and must in some way represent the circular hunlun itself… The drawing of the swirling vines seems also to have loosened itself from representation and entered the realm of the abstract and diagrammatic. One could also see Zhu Derun’s rendering of the bank, rock, pine, and grasses as similarly driven more by brush momentum than by attention to forms” (p163).

Back from a particularly rectifying weekend. Hence an etching from Basil Valentine‘s 1603 Occulta philosophia, again reproduced in Fabricius (see previous post).

The figure presents Valentine’s “vision of the great stone, the Benedictine superman supporting as Atlas the cosmic globe with its multitude of stars, the earth occupying the centre. The Sun is in Pisces, the moon in Aquarius, the circular work at its end. The inscription reads: ‘Seek this poster with diligence: therefore it has been shown to you. The earth is the source of the elements; they come forth from the earth and return to it again.’ The flying scroll is inscribed: ‘Visit the interior parts of the earth; by rectifying thou shalt find the hidden stone'” (p208).

“The three-headed bust of an antique philosopher conveys ‘prudence,’ the infans philosophorum with ABC ‘simplicity.’ The union of these modes testifies to the Benedictine’s attainment of the highest lucidity of which the human intellect is capable. The state of mind is that of child and genius. Says an alchemical treatise: ‘The work is not brought to perfection unless it ends in the simple… for man is the most worthy of living things and nearest to the simple, and this because of his intelligence’ [Liber platonis quartorum]” (p208).

The woodcut “is accompanied by the verse” (p208):

I am the one who carries heaven | and earth
While studying both with the utmost diligence.
First I display prudence, | then simplicity,
That my day’s wages may follow soon.

“The stone… may be amplified by a passage in the ‘Rosinus ad Sarratantam Episcopum,’ one of the oldest alchemical texts in Arabian style: ‘This stone is below thee, as to obedience; above thee, as to dominion; therefore from thee, as to knowledge; about thee, as to equals… This stone is something which is fixed more in thee [than elsewhere], created of God, and thou art its ore, and it is extracted from thee, and wheresoever thou art it remains inseparably with thee… And as man is made up of the four elements, so also is the stone, and so it is [dug] out of man, and thou art its ore, namely by working; and from thee it is extracted, that is, by division; and in thee it remains inseparably, namely by knowledge. [To express it] otherwise, fixed in thee: namely in the Mercurius of the wise; thou art its ore: that is, it is enclosed in thee and thou holdest it secretly; and from thee it is extracted when it is reduced [to its essence] by thee and dissolved; for without thee it cannot be fulfilled, and without it canst thou not live, and so the end looks to the beginning, and contrariwise’ [Artis aurif.]” (p208).