Some worlds you fold away and carry in your pocket. Like an origami bird, a leaf from last year’s autumn, an unsigned postcard saying, ‘wish you were here’. Some worlds are slim and secret, lying in wait between the pages of a book, springing twists and turns and mighty surprises. Others unfold in your head, a glass marble holding an infinite sea-green universe. Some worlds visit you in your childhood, coming and going like the wind, gracing you with their magic, filling your dreams with rainbow colours, sweeping you away in breathless swirls, and then just like that, they’re gone. You wake up to an empty field, the quietness of trampled grass, a wooden gate left ajar.
Editor's Note.
Mythological Art and the Creation of Sacred Narratives
As a child, I was told stories such "lying down and eating will make your food go into the donkey's stomach" or "if you swallow a watermelon seed, a watermelon tree will grow inside you". There I was, sitting upright, imagining a miniature donkey drool in hunger.
Read MoreAs a child, I was told stories such "lying down and eating will make your food go into the donkey's stomach" or "if you swallow a watermelon seed, a watermelon tree will grow inside you". There I was, sitting upright, imagining a miniature donkey drool in hunger.
Also in this issue
Illusion: Seeing Beyond Seeing
Meaning: In Search of Significance.
Melody: A Different Tune
Rhythm: Ordering Time
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