I found a book, turning the pages there was a guide, and that was the collection of all the angles in the universe.
As I turn the pages, the book opens out, and even in the dimensionality of the turning, the book becomes a sphere — and the circle of the angles spreads out like a opening dandelion of the universe — stellar, opening out into the space in front of me.
Looking into the book, I think about the letter that lies in the center of the universe, the first stroke of everything. That drawing, the finger-tipped gesture of the beginning — it lies in the center of the book of angles, and at the nexus of everything — all coming into the center, which at the same time is the emanation of all angles, moving outward into the place of everything.
Everything begins in the center of the book, at the stroke of the starting — and, in the end — everything comes back to that place.
The drawing of everything, in the beginning, and gesture of nothing, the end.
What is drawn out, the line, is drawn back in again.
t | the old library, near the old market
THE LOVE OF FIRE: PASSION BRANDS