Remember Hyperborea
I remember Hyperborea. There I grew up lulled by fairies, breastfed by muses.
I remember Hyperborea. There I grew up lulled by fairies, breastfed by muses.
To communicate, you have to situate the level of your interlocutor. The tarot appears to be a great tool.
Am I remote-controlled like a drone? Or am I the only master on board my body?
In the beginning was the Great Goddess, the Mother of all life, divine or not.
Contemplate anything, you’ll find void. Open your heart, you’ll find absolute love.
A book that shook a whole generation, mine, that of powdery feet in search of absolute.
Tiki Viracocha had a bright face like the sun because he was the Son of the Sun
In India, Noah is called Manu: he grounds his ark on the North Mountain …
How can the historian assess the past without following ideas and comprehension in his/her time?
But the Atlantean empire didn’t disappear: Gods went to Hyperborea
The golden age was the reign of good giants. But the giants became predators …
From the flying carpets of the Arabian Nights to the ardent wheels of the prophet Ezekiel, our past loves air travel