He scratched his head absentmindedly out of habit - “Doors might be good” he called out loud, watching the drapes inhale and exhale from the wind outside.
Tu and Puck were far too absorbed in their sandcastle to be paying attention to him. It was a three dimensional mandala constructed from the ancient calcine remnants of earthly times: Babylon, Mexico, Australian shores, Egyptian silt, even crumbs from Atlantis. The particles would regroup to find their own and make patterns - moving patterns that glittered crystalline colours migrating through the tower that was almost three feet high.
“More, more!” Tu urged excitedly … but the canisters had all been drained, and there was nothing to do but watch their conical castle regroup and rearrange as the particles, like strings of ants that make their way to their own again.
“Mortals always envision one homogeny of Mankind, yet the sands prove otherwise. This is a living teaching of the limitations the concept of oneness holds. See how the particles seek out their own? The countries, the ages, the peoples, their beliefs … these are all signified distinctly by their unique innate memory … and yes, even sand holds memories.”
He was now facing twenty young monks who had silently joined them to watch the swirling mandala - to see the patterns of circles and paisley, merge more and more until the cone settled into stripes: as though plates were stacked from the biggest to the base to the smallest at the top.
“From where does this one come?” asked a novice, pointing at the very top layer.
“Paradise” answered Tu, “It is from the very beginning of this World.”
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series
Tu and Puck were far too absorbed in their sandcastle to be paying attention to him. It was a three dimensional mandala constructed from the ancient calcine remnants of earthly times: Babylon, Mexico, Australian shores, Egyptian silt, even crumbs from Atlantis. The particles would regroup to find their own and make patterns - moving patterns that glittered crystalline colours migrating through the tower that was almost three feet high.
“More, more!” Tu urged excitedly … but the canisters had all been drained, and there was nothing to do but watch their conical castle regroup and rearrange as the particles, like strings of ants that make their way to their own again.
“Mortals always envision one homogeny of Mankind, yet the sands prove otherwise. This is a living teaching of the limitations the concept of oneness holds. See how the particles seek out their own? The countries, the ages, the peoples, their beliefs … these are all signified distinctly by their unique innate memory … and yes, even sand holds memories.”
He was now facing twenty young monks who had silently joined them to watch the swirling mandala - to see the patterns of circles and paisley, merge more and more until the cone settled into stripes: as though plates were stacked from the biggest to the base to the smallest at the top.
“From where does this one come?” asked a novice, pointing at the very top layer.
“Paradise” answered Tu, “It is from the very beginning of this World.”
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series
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