Mundane Perspective

Distance juxtaposed to focal length:

experimenting with the mundane. These photos suck. I had to do an assignment and had 5 minutes to comply.

Awareness as Magick

We find ourselves in an age where words like mystery and magick are met with furrowed brows and Aristotelian rhetoric. The great occult mystery schools of the past termed phenomena and certain knowledge as esoteric, occult, "mystic", or magick. Even ideas of construction and architecture, which are now firmly part of our culture, were once highly regarded as the greatest of occult secrets.

Magick, in the truest sense is enacting change in the external or internal world, by means of willpower and intent. Many techniques are used depending on one's time period, culture, and other such variables, but one thing is ubiquitous, and that is the importance of awareness. Awareness OF consciousness. Some practices recommend single pointed awareness, like a laser, while others say the broad awareness, like a flood light leads to higher knowledge. The truth is both extremes will take the practitioner to higher levels of understanding. Awareness can make a heaven of hell, or a hell of heaven. What do you focus on? What are the narratives playing in your mind? 

                                    

Visions of the Past (Dream Sequence)

 No matter your quest, no matter your grail, you will need to prepare. You will need the tools and skills necessary to ensure the success of your endeavor. For some, all it requires is a paintbrush, a pen, a bicycle, a brain, but for others it could be anything.

 What is your quest? Where will you go? What are the things which your mind cannot help, but to want to know? Here is the remaining armor of Mazzerisk of Mazzerk. As the legend is told he was once an upstanding knight, a master of games and pageantry. Until one day he took a lance to the chest and was flung from his horse. As his horse cantered away, and his body hit the ground, his knee went one way, and his body another. He was stunned and in agony. The cacophonous blood-screams and jeers of the people seemed to just phase out. He thought it was broken, and as every millisecond passed, he could feel the rumble of his adversary's horse getting closer and closer. 

 He thought it was broken, and as every millisecond passed he could feel his adversary's horse getting closer and closer. Across the arena his enemy dismounted and slowly started to approach, staring at the injured knight with malicious intent.

Mazzerisk's squire hurriedly ran to his side and tried to hand him his sword.
"Are you alright?"
He tried to scream over the roar of the frenzied crowd. 
"H...help...me...up."
Forearm in hand, his squire lifted the Mazzerisk from the unforgiving sand and held him on his shoulders.
"Can you fight?"
The knight hadn't heard anything over the overwhelming sounds of breathing and ringing resonating through his skull and helm. That is until his squire's last question. All his training, his victories, and previously surmounted obstacles, flooded his mind. He unsheathed his sword and raised its point up to gods.
"FOR HONOR, FOR VICTORY, FOR DEATH!"