Henosis

An exploration of cosmic and natural recurrences. From cosmology to cosmogony; where the universe reflects itself within consciousness. Generative alchemy, scholar’s stones, and meticulous human refinement.

[henosis-arts]

Forgotten Fairy

When the mist lingered over the orchards of Avalon, fairies dotted the night of the inner forests with stitchwort.

By the lesser celandine and the fleabane, their blade-woven headdresses bowed before the Queen of the Meadows.

Where rays and roots intertwined, a shimmering fire caught the black chanterelles, sparks of the streams and ivy-clad mounds.

By dandelion and milkweed, the wind bore the bristle of their charms among croziers and helmets.

Dawn sparkled in their wings upon the pilgrim’s evening, as he thought of the gold of the ancient spring, and saw his sunset adorned with nuggets.

They bound the sky to the buds of tenderness, weaving light until hearts flowered in corymbs.

Their delicate hands hemmed the frayed souls.

Yet bitterness also flowed between the stone and the waters of Barenton, a relic of demoted demons crowning the thistle with thorns.

Can one remember the green hour, stolen from time, without killing the umbel of childhood in a jar? The Legends: Chivalric Cycles — A series of medieval tales and Arthurian lore-inspired archetypes.

[henosis-arts]

The Walled Equinox Son of the three whites, Blaze of divine rage, luster of innocent thighs, and coat of cloven eros.

He knew only the darkness of designs and desires.

Misery flowed within the bed of his primal brutality, As blood flowed from the cup of his almighty hands.

What a strange thirst for a red he could not see, What a strange hunger for a substance he could not graze.

Asterion yearned for the stars in drunken despair.

He tore flesh with embraces beyond measure.

In the labyrinth, the silence screamed.

The ashlar stone told him of absurd plains, The dead danced for him the joy of absence.

Sun-dried mud affection extinguished the last glimmers of Pasiphaë, A remnant of reason awaited the sword aimed at sorrow. No man's chest could contain the solitude dwelling in a bull's heart. Its vast chambers extend the echo of oblivion amid orphaned pulses.

At night, in Crete, the moon bellows. The Legends: Hellenic Cycles — A series of Greek mythology-inspired archetypes.

[henosis-arts]

Dance of the seven waves and the seven winds, his wings cradled the dew point.

Viscous red drenched the caryatids, Mother's flora of his birth through the carotids. Seeded by crime, the sorrowbred soared through the skies. Pain and cruelty washed their coal in silver rains. What wind did the cimarron of the cirrus long for? What bitter currents did the thunder of his gallop stir? Of horn and clay, psalms sprang beneath the hoof, leaving the Muses to thirst for the song of the two spheres. Stormblower, he made the towering conches neigh. Leaping from stratum to stratum, he shot, ever higher, ever vaster, ever darker, until he reached the ceaseless night, where he burned his coat in clusters. Yet the echo of his wild freedom still sweeps across the tapered ridges of the blue desert; A refrain from before time that fans drifting souls: Fury is the mother of poetry. The Legends: Hellenic Cycles — A series of Greek mythology-inspired archetypes.

[henosis-arts]

The single eye of brutality has no depth, but rage is blind.

Spiders weave the silk of legends. Polyphemus covers his face.

Hands that once rolled boulders are now powerless to hold the stolen light.

Henceforth, the giant shepherd guides only shadows across eclipsed fields, to milk the night. The Legends: Hellenic Cycles — A series of Greek mythology-inspired archetypes.

[henosis-arts]

Beyond Cape Howls, the Devourer of Worlds hails black holes. On the ghostly arachnid canvas, Charybdis’s craving guts the sea.

The darkness of its throat answers the brightness of the heavens. Its foaming maw devours all beings—save the one it spat back out.

The beast of the deep offers neither respite to the sailor nor a face to his terror. Let your soul sink into its abyss. Of tears and foam, let the two salts meet. For it calls only to those who trace their wake on inner seas.

The Legends: Hellenic Cycles — A series of Greek mythology-inspired archetypes.

[henosis-arts]

Myth lives. Haunting the moons of her pupils, truth eclipses their orbit of bone. When gazes align, she breathes stone into man.

On Sarpedon, Medusa reflects her still heart in chests inert.

Perhaps her victims share the devastation of her inner lands. Perhaps the hideousness lies not in the cracks of her flesh, but in the outrages it has suffered.

Beyond the cross, stigmata repel. Before them, heads turn and lips twist. Beheading the green trauma relieves the eyes but sows its return.

Does the severed horror preserve the world, or does the severed pain preserve its illusion?

Beware the Gorgon’s spring tides; they crash over souls, hissing with fury.

Your limestone body could adorn her fossil garden with a new flower of silence.

For terror petrifies those who open their eyes and gaze upon truth unshielded. The Legends: Hellenic Cycles — A series of Greek mythology-inspired archetypes.

[henosis-arts]

Within, the dragons dwell.

Thymos is the manifestation. His name echoes timelessly: θυμός (thymos) — temper.

Shrouded in ghostly spider silk, the dark, primal figure of Thymos appears to erupt with fury—evoking a moment of chaos, the point where tension culminates, and wounds outweigh healing.

"My experience or my theater? My pain or my rage?"

The Legends: Draconic Cycles — A pentaptych of Jungian-inspired draconic archetypes.

[henosis-arts]

Within, the dragons dwell.

Katharos is the way. Her name echoes timelessly: καθαρός (katharos) — cleansing.

Shrouded in ghostly spider silk, the dark, primal figure of Katharos appears to dive upon its prey—evoking a moment of cleansing—when the monster slays the monster, and creation arises from the ashes of annihilation.

"My relief or my obsession? My purification or my absence?"

The Legends: Draconic Cycles — A pentaptych of Jungian-inspired draconic archetypes.

[henosis-arts]

Within, the dragons dwell.

Semas is the voice. Her name echoes timelessly: σῆμα (sēma) — sign, mark.

Shrouded in ghostly spider silk, the dark, primal figure of Semas appears to roar in defiance—evoking a moment of liberation—the restoration of meaning, poised between the threat of what will be and the tranquility of what once was.

"My soul or my ego? My word or my conquest?"

The Legends: Draconic Cycles — A pentaptych of Jungian-inspired draconic archetypes.

[henosis-arts]

Within, the dragons dwell.

Apodoch is the source. Her name echoes timelessly: ἀποδοχή (apodochē) — acceptance.

Shrouded in ghostly spider silk, the dark, primal figure of Apodoch appears to take flight—evoking a moment of release, when tension begins to subside and a dual force emerges, capable of both destruction and creation.

"My deliverance or my indulgence? My fulfillment or my excess?"

The Legends: Draconic Cycles — A pentaptych of Jungian-inspired draconic archetypes.

[henosis-arts]

Within, the dragons dwell.

Teichor is the guardian. Her name echoes timelessly: τεῖχος (teîkhos) — rampart.

Shrouded in ghostly spider silk, Teichor appears to face the unknown—evoking a moment of determination when the time comes to face deep-seated fears, in a delicate balance between protection and harm.

"My refuge or my cage? My strength or my sanctuary?"

The Legends: Draconic Cycles — A pentaptych of Jungian-inspired draconic archetypes.