When ‘Sapphire’ came into my life, she came like a lightning bolt out of the deep blue glacier heart of forgotten song. I didn’t see her coming. She cracked inspiration over my head, and broke my heart open into a story that would mystically unfold for years to come.
She spoke to me in dreams, in waking life, through friends, collaborators, my Beloved. She visited me through students and mentors alike, through whispers in body and writing, through my anguish and tears.
Fever.
Devastation.
Dissipation.
Bliss wisdom.
The ecstasy of the river losing itself to become the sea.
She spoke from hidden parts of me I exalted yet felt disconnected from;
through sacred parts long forgotten in the ice-y caverns of my heart.
She spoke through euphoric moments, grandiose visioning,
time traveling avalanches of soul recollections,
through ruptured dreams
deflating under the sobering light
of saturnian reckoning with neptunian disillusionment.
She forced me to grow.
To outgrow my old life and step boldly into new territories.
New relationships. Hard conversations. Profound Alliances.
She spoke to me in the voices and insecurities surrounding the preciousness of my biggest artistic dreams.
She simultaneously fulfilled them
and tore them out of my hands.
She gave me hope to become more of myself in this world, to give more, to tell more of the truth. She left me naked and terrified of my own voice, out in the rain, shivering,
waiting for me to remember just how much I love to dance beneath waterfalls. How water only excruciatingly cold until surrendering into it awakens the warmth from within, thawing all of the frozen parts of the soul disorganized and lodged in other dimensions of time.
She spoke through telepathy and soul guides, unborn spirits knocking on my womb, trying to get my attention and open to become a portal for their incarnation (Not yet my dudes)
She spoke through synchronicities, conspiracies, and unbearable reflections. Through my worst fears of myself coming to light and fading away like a mirage ghosting in wind.
She spoke to me through visions of a more mature embodiment, tending to the inner romantic, my aching 14 year olds reaching heart, still broken from whatever flavor of unrequited love she acquired from the cultural trance.
She spoke through epiphanies and past life remembrances, multidimensional cluster-fucks, awkward clunky moments of dismantling the golden shadows at every turn of the kaleidoscope of returning to Love.
She spoke as soul fragments coming home to me through the gates of the mouths of my magical kin. She spoke in wonder and awe. Through ice sculptures, crystal caves and thunderstorms.
Through big sisters and tough love. Through the voice of the innocent one who knows for certain that magic is in tact, and there is a reservoir of alchemy within, if we only sit still enough to allow this essence to distill into its unmistakable nourishment.
She spoke through opalescent invigoration, and collaborations of the highest caliber. through the wisdom of the one I am walking toward. She spoke through me as a self-less self reflected in the mirrors of time. She spoke through the echoes of the song I’ve always been listening for as I have been learning to sing myself home.
She Spoke, and I responded.
And 'Sapphire' is the art we made along the journey.
photo
Rob Ball