The Marriage of Son and Moon

February 2008
digital painting, Photoshop

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"...Cyborg imagery can suggest a way out of the maze of dualisms in which we have explained our bodies and our tools to ourselves. This is a dream not of a common language, but of a powerful infidel heteroglossia. It is an imagination of a feminist speaking in tongues to strike fear into the circuits of the supersavers of the new right. It means both building and destroying machines, identities, categories, relationships, space stories. Though both are bound in the spiral dance, I would rather be a cyborg than a goddess." - Donna Haraway, The Cyborg Manifesto

Are we not of the earth, just as the earth is of the stars? And is it not so that the children of the earth's children are of both flesh and sand? Look at your own crations. See how you have birthed them. All these forms are of the same body. They share in the same essence. As you read these words, your nervous system is linked to mine through the flowering of our material culture; this shining convergence of mind is earthly consciousness unfolding in flights of electrons. We can no longer afford the luxury of innocence before the mysteries of nature. We have become a powerful conduit of these primal energies and must assume responsibility for their compassionate and sublime expression. Look again and see if the vague memories of a natural world apart from human activity are not revealed as caricatures of a time long past. These stories we tell, these fantasies of Eden are the childish utopias of alienated souls. The more we cling to hopeful visions, the more their attainment is frustrated by the clinging. This frightened wishful thinking distracts us all from the potent realities of today. Lives spent lamenting the loss of an imagined history or longing for a satisfying future, are incompatible with the possibility of peace, presence, and ecstasy in the revelation of now. For whatever relief there shall be, it shall be in the moment of acceptance, or not at all.

So abandon all guilt within the concrete jungle. The biomechanical wasteland is but the amniotic fluid of a new birth. As we awaken to the natural rhythms of emerging consciousness within all that we do, we shall discover the ever present glory of creation in the very midst of the mayhem. And here, in the marriage of form and space, of sense and soul, of mind and spirit, we shall reawaken to the power of now and the joy and freedom of choice.

Namaste