The Rose in the Starfish

Rosicrucean Emblem Ten: Atlas

Journal, 7 October 2019

Is ecstasy the captive of existential fear?  Are they hand in glove?  What is love?

Here is a story in Arthur Koestler’s ‘The Act of Creation’: “The great biologist Elie Mechnikoff felt rather lonely one afternoon in 1890 when the whole family had gone off to the circus … he remained alone with his microscope. The microscope was in Pasteur’s laboratory at the Ecole Normale.  Mechnikoff was observing the life of the mobile cells in the transparent larvae of starfish, and idly threw a few rose-thorns among them.  The thorns were promptly surrounded by the larvae and dissolved inside their transparent bodies – they had been gobbled up and digested.  This reminded him of what happens when a human finger is infected by a splinter; it will be surrounded by pus which, like the starfish larvae, attack and try to digest the intruder.  By this analogy Mechnikoff discovered the organism’s main defence mechanism against invading microbes: the ‘phagocytes’, cell-eaters, a population of mobile cells among the white blood corpuscles.”

[Hasn’t this some resonance with the development of advanced technologies to bio-degrade the plastics in our oceans?   SIXTH SUN LINK – :  “The ‘Time of the Sixth Sun Series’ is a movie and documentary series 11 years in the making about the awakening and transformation of global consciousness and the huge potential we have for change in the world. Starring Estas Tonne and featuring over 85 indigenous elders, wisdom keepers, visionary thought leaders with a beautiful soundtrack. If you’d like to see the trailer and sign up to watch for free go to:

This project was first distributed last April, and is being made available again on 6 November.  I only saw a small part of it then, and was deeply uplifted and fascinated by the holistic work of a new generation of young scientists – a profound, positive message concerning also our individual untapped potential for the good.

 I also started to correspond with Global Energy Parliament – well worth a visit.  This Keralan movement grounds spiritual conscience, philanthropy and eco-initiatives in quantum physics – the journey into the Higgs-Bosen or “I” particle.]

Bio-chemistry never lost the helping hand of its elder sister, Alchemy – nature’s interior art of transformation is assisted just a little by humans.  Seventeenth century alchemic aphorisms describe red and white soldiers’ activity within the corpuscular bloodstream as they travel to the castles of our interior organs.  What ancient medicine!

Think again of this fantastic occult paradox: starfish larvae eat up and digest rose-thorns.  Starfish have five extensions (like Vitruvian human); the rose is structured on five petals.   HEH is the fifth Hebrew letter, it means seeing and the breath.  Y H V H, a Dvine shorthand to indicate the One Reality, is father, mother, child and (second H) the Family which seeds the new Yod.  Our technology towards Gaia is as yet crude. It will refine.

And what about this? – in Keith Critchlow’s “the Hidden Geometry of Flowers” is shown the orbital pattern of periodic positions of Venus with Earth around the years. There is no escape for us whatsoever from the beauty, the dance of Venus:

See also my post about the seven-year cycles on the Tree of Life.


What is Gaia?  The human bonding with the planet draws closer and it IS.

Tantra is the living web of touch.  Sleeping Beauty awakes within the briar.  A starfish drinks the thorn of the rose.  Everything dissolves in the Whole Life and Light.  What is Real is to be found, not pasted as formula onto a thought or an email.  It is off the beaten track.  It is cultured, nurtured, gardened, found again and again. The unspeeched song in the vascular branches replies to everything.

Earnest, serious analytical thinking is good as far as it goes; but it is not perception. It sees patterns but it does not perceive what is behind the patterns and behind the fear.  The pussy foot approaching the mirror must look behind it.

The character behind the patterns has a Uranian humour.  It overturns our apple carts and expectations.  The pattern seems real while I and others are wedded to its misery.  But actually it isn’t.  The pattern is Change and the Design around it is beyond the box.  Change can be a sort of eternity of misery including vulnerability to frackers, which pokes my mind away from serenity like the hellish toasting-fork.  But the Design wherein all change is temporary upheaval, laughs at locksmiths. What laughs at locksmiths? Love.  Compassion. What are locksmiths?  Weddings to misery and mistrust of life.  And what goes on?  Life, fermenting in fact with lovers and teachers and clowns and children and lighthouse keepers.  We are unstoppable!  We are not so obvious to the earnest thinkers of the pattern, but we shine because when we laugh or cry it falls away like a costume change.   It’s simple.  Just go on lighthouse keeping.  It’s stormy. That’s what lighthouses are for.  We are rooted quietly in the rock

Watch my predatory mind which grabs and fastens and worries any misery about environment, society or my physical body, just like a greedy market force.  Just recognise it and don’t go with THAT flow.  To help build a positive collective tree of life, attend to my environment in HERE and its collective contagion. This is I guess, my best intention with the extinction rebellion activists this week and next.  What are we rebelling against?  The old movie, the old machine.  The old machine for sure is not destined to survive and as long as I stick to it, it gives me grief.

I think there is a Kabbalah meditation this evening at D and M’s.  Let us gather together!

Recognise chaos (misery) and harmony (life force). Respect the fact of the dissonance towards sanity. Live within the given picture. Reading about the poet Rilke’s Russian journey with Lou Salome – the Divine beauty and vastness of that continent with its tenacious devout peasantry, his love for it, his passionate profound love for large Lou and her homeland – what flew into his poetry in subsequent years of the terror and rape of the timeless sacrament with time’s tyrant?  The serfs were an immense population in age-old bondage to Tsars; in young Rilke’s well of discovery they were beautiful like wild flowers in their dream time, their lives a struggle to survive, their devotion a hardy mystic blessing under the heavy foot of feudal taxation.  This devotion and faith met its hope in the soviet revolution and was slaughtered.  Long grinding holocaust.  In more recent times the devotion returns to the open places to build again with God.

What of the holocaust flew into Rilke’s metaphysics as terrifying angels?   The 20th century Tsars occupied his new spiritual homeland of endless steppes and skies.

What is my mind?  A sort of body which suffers pain!   My mind is a skinless lamb turned on the spit.  And what is outside, beyond and yet within my mind?

Each country will settle into his or her own nature in due course, including natural divinity and crown of thorns.  An idea wishes to be born this morning as I write.  What is it?  All things come to term.  All conflicts pass through each other.  In the middle (east) are concrete walls and religious war.   That isn’t the idea I had just now, which sank below the waves again, but let’s keep going. Concrete cracks apart and war becomes an outgrown fantasy.  Centuries ago, my soul carried weapons, now laid aside.  The civil war is in the middle east, concentrically.  Civil war is that between those of the same flesh and brotherhood, the same village.  So I have a picture of Christ wearing his crown of thorns.  There is a mudra of Transfiguration.  This is not the fish I almost caught just now, but never mind.

Lou Salome with her independence of thought and life style was a kind of beautiful Madame Blavatsky.  I’m also looking at her biography of Nietzsche.  I did these two sketches this morning – herself and Rilke:

“Devotion returns to the open places.”  This is the fishy phrase or feeling which prevails. Where people believe it is the End, this shy sly hidden card comes out of the sleeve.  What comes to its own end is the wall of conditioned belief, whether dumb or intelligent.  I see something.  I see nature, Gaia, colonising Her own.   I hear you talking about the millions of persons and children who will starve and die when Africa becomes uninhabitable due to human carbon emissions.

Yes, this is tragic for human beings, and I cannot spell out – (when in linear left-brain company and its deeply-read concerns) – the solar-plexus intuition’s sense of the natural DNA balances. They transcend what we humans think we do.  A vast cross-fertilised gene pool was born over the last century, and as swiftly it may become withdrawn, leaving a rich culture for the generations to thrive.  I can’t say such things, which seem heartless; when I awake, I think in paradox.  For the psyche which imagines the bigger picture, empaths also the individual sufferings of one of a million such families losing house, home and life through climate change – starving babies – the immensity of their fragile universe.  What do I know of the Karmic hinterlands of these souls, and of their future sprouting and rebirth?   Fires and heat scorch, and then there are ashes and then in the elder Chinese elementary cycle there is earth and water and wood:  a re-sprouting of human wilderness beyond prediction.  Compassion.

This is the Generation cycle:

The 64 I Ching Hexagrams are built from the pairing of the 8 trigrams (square root): Thunder, Wind, Fire, Earth, Lake, Heaven, Water, Mountain.  To these are attributed the five Chinese elements qualitatively.  In the Tao, wood generates fire which as ash generates earth which generates the metals which generate the water which generates earth …  (See the Great Treatise in the I Ching, and also ‘The Trigrams of Han‘ by Steve Moore)

this diagram shows also the Destruction or conquest cycle: earth soaks up water which puts out fire which melts metal which cuts the wood which conquers earth.


It is not just the regeneration of Nature’s habitat through the altered conditions: it is that the souls which may die in Equatorial and other regions are seeds of the life force, and they get planted again.  Between the tropics of Cancer and Capricorn, where Earth’s circumference rotates faster, are found polarities of good and evil. Dictators engage in tribal warfare and pillage, but at the same time, the land is sprinkled with VSO and other teaching-missions. They save lives; significantly they sow indestructible seeds of cooperation, intelligent farming, self-sufficiency and friendship. No longer are religious dogmas inflicted, which cut the people away from their ancestral roots. There is a movement of atonement.

Humanity cannot be assessed at the level of political gamesters, the turgid knots of the lower mind.  Humanity is assessed through the vivid peaks of her philanthropic responsibility.

The goddess Kwan Yin painted by Roerich

The ageless teachings nowadays emphasise this.  In the old traditional way, those treading spiritual paths sought personal liberation.  The new way is philanthropic: self being for others;  embody it.  Walk your talk.

There is no answer.  There is a kind of seeing of the patterns, in our different ways; and there is acceptance of the whole.  Above all, I should not hate or despair, but empathise – understand also the condition of those driven by unconscious fear of change, whose expression is aggressive denial.

I grieve the extinction of waves of humanity and their bio-culture. I may in my next thought deplore the crisis of over-population.   Can I combine these concepts?   Over the last century or two, Nature’s tidal wave embodied souls in billions upon earth, and is bound to reduce that component as She withdraws.  It is difficult to find a language for this: she turns the human acceleration of exhaust, ingenuity and industry to her purpose.

She will use also the human nascent tendency to outgrow our addiction to survival-sexuality. Following what may or may not be dramatic drops in population in afflicted regions … may come a slow diminishing of the birth statistic as we pull our horns in, and our belts.  Slowly but steadily, “marketing-sex” becomes replaced by contemplative intimate relationships in the scale of Tantric values.  The genetic structure of the new human grows apace, leaving the old state and its passion and its beauty and its abuse behind like a sloughed-off skin or chrysalis.

This takes time and is perceptible in fits and starts, but it is here with us today; new generations are born to meet the environmental challenges creatively; the nature of the family evolves.  Our real nature is ecstasy; not static.

This fact is alive also “unconsciously” in the outspoken fear of Extinction.  We humans carry a huge amount of perception of which we cannot speak.  I feel that the collective androgyne fears what it carries in the DNA –  knowledge of a reduced progeny; this is one of the oldest instinctual fears which fuel the blind.  Upon this fear ride competition, distraction and the market force.  So you can see its INTENSITY!

The terror began to disrupt the old order at the beginning of the twentieth century with tsunamis of world-war, the soviet engine in Russia, Nazism, nuclear weapons and pollutants.   Did not the terror shout in the depth of the poet Rilke’s elegies and angels?

Yet there is peace.

Sting flows as ecstasy, that tide of salty foam about to engulf the starfish on the sand, receiving the creature into Her own element.  Isn’t this like us?  Small i-thought cries and fears the sacrifice into the greater Being which grows within us!

Extinction fear is “a thrust into denial” … as in innumerable behaviours light and dark, sexual and otherwise. The extinction rebellion movement is an actual outspoken expression of this fear!  Pluto turning direct last week draws out the sting, and … is there a beginning of healing? … wholeness.

DNA is a fibre throughout the universe and it is without end.  Through DNA the cosmic serpent, each phenomenon is entangled and interwoven through the quantum field.  Only connect … ! Here I spread jam on toast and there a supernova erupts. The one is a MOMENT in my time; the other is a million light-years in expansion.  Or there, a Japanese pauses at work in his orchard.

Japanese farmer in his orchard looks like the Hermit in Tarot, in this recent oracle – flanked by the statements of Master Rakoczy and the Ascension of the child within us.


Almost all systems of thought create more constriction inside you, with the exception of those that lead you into deeper acceptance of your true nature.”

Richard Rudd,  the 25th Gene Key

  • How shall I hold on to my soul, so that
    it does not touch yours? How shall I lift
    it gently up over you on to other things?
    I would so very much like to tuck it away
    among long lost objects in the dark,
    in some quiet, unknown place, somewhere
    which remains motionless when your depths resound.
    And yet everything which touches us, you and me,
    takes us together like a single bow,
    drawing out from two strings but one voice.
    On which instrument are we strung?
    And which violinist holds us in his hand?
    O sweetest of songs.
  • To Lou Salome from Rainer Maria Rilke





Photo by Sarah Poland

My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom. See also Aquariel

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2019. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address

Philosopher Stone

20 September 2019

I woke to a Promethean poem this morning.  Unfortunately it faded.  I am left with the sense of a large almost-round grey pebble.  The message within its fall to gravity was the fire.  It is the fire. It was bonded with the flow of water. But water is flowing Stone. The water which flows as Stone contains the fire which falls to Earth;  each day a fall of meteorites most of them incandescing to powder in the atmosphere – Air; these primordial processes prevail regardless of small human guilt.

The Stone is in my hand and its weight flies into the infinite core fractal of interior space, and inside each of Jim Ede’s pebbles is God.  This is noticed through the anguished human claptrap.

Two realities reside here: one, that we humans spoil the earth, and the other: how can we so arrogantly presume to?  It is in Gaia’s destiny to clear some of her surface areas for a time and alter the climate composition. As our Solar system moves deeper into the Photon belt, each organism is aware and agitated through changes in the DNA.

This is an unusual and Holistic idea. The substance or impression of Holistic ideas transcends – is greater than their composition.   Their composition – how they print out – is subject to the interpretation: the words.

The substance, the dimensional weight falling through my body however – this is true, and it is what I call transmission, reception of the Promethean fire.


Let it do its work.  Through countless receiving channels it is spelled out into this or that interpretation.  Generally speaking there is agreement, that when we fully embrace and accept responsibility with our suffering, there is joy.  There is unexpected, boundless joy, whatever appears to go on, or apparently engulfs it. Where one spark is covered for a time, another shines out.  Watch a glowing fire in the hearth; it whispers along the wood like a slow snake.

Human beings need to suffer from their rattling thought and its environmental disorders, disasters and creation of deserts, in order to begin to step free from this convention mind – to work with and as Nature, Gaia, not against.

“To begin to” is the operative word here.  Fixed holding-positions get left behind.  Awaken into prayer and progress with the day, again and again and again and again;  recreate the Power of Creation. An infinitesimal neutrino penetrates the leaden shield into the star; from star to star … again comes around the Promethean gift of Fire, the spark within each of us planted; the phoenix bird of song and light and joy in the recovery and resurrection:  “I am the Resurrection and the Light.”  “I am the love of the Light.”  “I am the core of Love itself.”  “Let there be Light.”

Coursing the sap in stem, nectar aflame,
each power to one beloved nadi clings.
The force through spine’s sushumna sings
‘All presence’, ‘Heart’s ocean’, ‘Swan of peace’, ‘Supreme’.*

As Her light pervades my body, I am detached;
my form as Self, Self and the world are matched

* – In one of my Ramana Gita sonnets, these are names roughly corresponding to atma nadi (Self), para nadi (that which is beyond manifestation) and amrita nadi (nectar of immortality) in the text.  The nadis are the meridian map within the Yogic body.]

phoenix bird of fire


The alchemist blows a little on the banked fire, and it glows.   The breath. The body.

In a stone-age cave, the warming flame flows along the log like lava, like water with Light which is air and the Earth’s solar core.  Everything, each and every phenomenon has this potential (See the link to “beyondhumanstories” further down this post) …  within the plastics and perverted materials, nothing is other than the core.  Sooner or later it returns to the core, as technologies arise to biodegrade our unconscious waste, for we become conscious, first individually here and there, and then collectively as a tide through tipping-point.  Alchemists are able to quicken the interior process, and to see above the tide.  Wherever an alchemist is at work, the environment blossoms.  Alchemists are gardeners.  We potter and we ponder and we fish.


The slow fire along the log burns out old Karma and all its fascination and even beauty.  It cleanses the slate, to the horror and grief of all who saw and were aware of, for instance, the burning of the Amazon forest. A cruel human may have caused it or encouraged it to spread; but it was to be.  It shocks and burns the soul.  It starves further the respiration’s resources.  The respiration is the whole planetary balance and swirl of currencies and weathers.  Why is this happening?

I think the new human will have, and has already a bond with nature, with creature, fish, plant, tree and rock which we used to plunder and exploit and harm.  The new human is so deeply, painfully connected with what she harmed that she plays into the restorative power of transmutation and the burgeoning of Life.  Humankind is no longer separate from the forest and creatures of the field, no longer separate from the seas, no longer a player of golf.

The new human re-learns the ancient unifying magic;  the art begins where nature ceases to act.  Already this is developing as a fact.   Those who despaired and yet were willing to hope, drop away from the old system. They begin to work with the Sun, creating local solar technologies.  They nurture the family and patterns of relationships.  Relationships are geometries and sacred forms and problems of harmony.  With the ripple effect, they enter and inspire one another.

A drawing from Douglas Harding’s ‘Hierarchy of Heaven and Earth’

I wanted to say … concentric waves or ripples.  Where the Stone falls and breaks surface, there is a centrifugal ripple: concentric rings.   These move subtly through immediate society and communities, creating further impacts and their rings.  Watch a fall of rain on the pond.  I don’t publish 99% of my work because it could be misunderstood.  I am not totally sure of it myself, or of peoples’ capacity to misinterpret and to twist.  The Stone goes on and on falling into my fractal core and there is no time to stop and buff it up into shape to pass through the gate; for always it comes.  I trust that where I work, the Companions of the Light take care of it. Their power to reach the ground and to start a wave passes through where I sit and write it down, and travels to other antennae.  I write the same thing over and over and over for the telegraph wire.  I’m a starling sitting on it.  There is never enough of it.  I write and sing so others unseen are inspired.  There are notes that travel above and below the standard spectrum; the invisible octaves of the ground of being.

Starling & murmuration – Image from allaboutbirds

While I was cleaning the house upstairs yesterday, Genevieve’s conversation with Paula Aamli ( uplifted and helped me to turn to face my pain; for Paula discovered – through facing hers – that though the present human engine is destroying its future, there is an unexpected response of joy, gratitude, discovery and noticing the infinite resource of life even in a walled in city garden, and certainly within the soul’s courage.  There is more to this than we know.

It is the infinitesimal fractal potency of the small!  The 9thGene key is called the Power of the Infinitesimal.  Beauty is the story, the dimension which cuts through every science.

Brancusi’s Prometheus on Bechstein, Kettle’s Yard

I was told long ago, in 1969: Your beautiful thoughts are not enough.  The stuff of beauty is sterner.  The way is to evoke and inspire that beauty in someone else.   Ah, but I see today, the beautiful thoughts are, and create the Way.  The beauty didn’t come into my hand like soap.  It had to be worked for, leaned into and with, discovered, suffered, recreated.

The new chapter is respirational, back and forth, in and out.  When the old breath is done it dulls and expires: the new breath coming in underneath it be-stirs things.  So rises and falls the Tao in our world.


When I woke this morning with the Promethean poem I lay for a while listening to the hammering builders who’ve taken off a roof, up the road.  I could just hear the dark yammer of their radio.  Listening to radio news and watching media is a yammering, de-sensitising skin which most of us wear. It reinforces the screen of isn’t it all dreadful and bad, and it deadens the feeling.  Journalists are able to witness and report horrors with this leaden blanket.  I don’t have that protective numbness.  The Guardians force me in this way to stay sensitive.  I don’t read the papers or watch the media. My ear is to the ground; I pick up what I need to know.  The human commentary on atrocity and damage and guilt, is more than I can bear.   Many of us walk with only one side of our bodies and half of our brains and heavy clouds in our heart and loins.  I used to have dreams about only being able to walk with one foot, the other was tightly curled up asleep underneath.

The Tarot key that intuitively blossoms today is the 8th– Soul strength, the woman guiding the lion to sing and to speak.  “Make your pattern accurate, profound, honest, courageous.”

It is another such beautiful September day, this morning, sharp and fresh.  Water, stone, meteorite – recollect that vast numbers of comets and meteorites and cosmic bodies are  petrified water.  Water of Life.

The Stone warms up to flow as water with the fire inside.




Click on image to view

My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom. See also Aquariel

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2019. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address



‘Shakti Rising’ – the original Drawings

The Sanskrit words Maha and Vidya translate to “Great Wisdom”.

Dr Kavitha Chinnaiyam’s book “Shakti Rising” was published in 2017 and you can find it on Amazon.  Earlier that year she asked me to do the illustrations for it.  They are included here under copyright.

It was a wonderful opportunity to reacquaint myself with the Mahavidyas – the Ten Wisdom Goddesses.  I had been inspired by them previously in David Frawley (Vamadeva Shastri’s) “Tantric Yoga and the Wisdom Goddesses”.

In this new post I will collect together the illustrations in Kavitha’s book, as well as some background images for a fresh angle on the creative process!

Kavitha combines her distinguished career in cardiology with teaching Yoga and meditation.  She introduces her Shakti Rising facebook community:  “This group is about radical self-discovery through the divine feminine. In this safe place, we can share anything knowing that it will be held in mutual love and respect.

The group practices meditation and develops the momentum of Kavitha’s work through questions, insights and sharing.

This sketch invoking Saraswathi Vedic goddess of the arts, creativity and learning, was done many years ago. Does she remind us of anyone?   3,000 years ago, the Saraswathi River in north west India flowed through the centre of Vedic culture and wisdom.  The river dried up into the desert of Rajasthan and became a deity, but its bed was recently rediscovered by archaeologists, and flows again. Saraswathi’s consort is Brahma.


My medium for the drawings in Shakti Rising is the simplest one: pencil and Bic biro.  Here is a chance to see the original scans, smudges and all – with pauses in the visual narrative, for fresh imagery.  My art combines European and Indian roots with Renaissance and the ancient world.  At the time I did the Mahavidya drawings there was intense “disappointment” and pain in the world’s political crust: yet their power rivered up through me with an alternative and forward-looking Vision.

In re-invoking them now, I feel this same uplift brings together the deep roots of the Goddess east and west; her mountains, caves and rivers.  As we breathe and liberate the Mahavidya in all Her weathers and mysteries … she cradles us in Her freedom.  Take courage!

This is a drawing of my grandmother in circa 1946, on a Moroccan beach. She and my grandfather were giving servicemen a day off from their Gibralter barracks. One of them recalled, “Helen looked like a marble statue come to life, her hair curling, her arms shining, she walked by the frilly waters, and when Jim saw her he told her she looked like a goddess and she said, ‘I know.’

By way of background, here are two copies of Botticelli’s Pallas Athene with Centaur – a painting I associated from early childhood with my grandmother, who inspired me with these Renaissance models.  The one on the right is done with my left hand.  Click on either one to view:


Dr Kavitha Chinnaiyam bridges modern medicine to the elder archetypes and healing powers of Kundalini Shakti.  She encourages us to rediscover our unfettered female beauty through the disciplines of Yoga, Mantra and Puja.  These practices attune and refine our being to the Shakti frequency, helping us to face and transform the shadows of our subconscious conditioning. Her work is a mountain-spring through the ground for men and women to realise collective human health and parenting.  Let us gather together …

You will find some of these ten Mahavidyas are wild, extravagant, untamed and elemental – especially Kali, Tara and the fiery Bhairavi.  Awaken the creative process!

Tarot Key 8: the singing Lion within each of us is gentled forth to speak. This is the card of Soul Strength or “Fohat” – a word for the limitless Light.


The joy of the rising feminine power in nature still meets the engine of patriarchal distortions in the world.  This is inevitable.  We human beings as men and women sustain deep, separative wounds of conditioning in our individual and collective psyche. Mother Nature in her seasonal manifestations within the evolutionary biosphere may appear at first to resist growth in order to strengthen and deepen the root.

Sacred India Tarot – publ. Yogi Impressions 2011: the Queen of Staves or Wands represents SVAHA, the goddess of awakening: (see Chinnamasta mantra in D.Frawley’s work, mentioned below).  SVAHA is pronounced at the cadence of some of the longer mantras, to release the shakti.  Svaha!  Awaken!


And now: the Mahavidyas.

Ganesh is the Lord of Obstacles.  His blessing is invoked at the beginning of each commercial enterprise or creative activity.  Ganesh the elephant god, involuntary offspring of Siva and Parvati, and brother to the transcendent Skanda, “unlocks the throat of poets.” So he is often depicted playing the flute.  To him are offered loving sweets and incense.  His vehicle is the wily and intelligent Rat.  On his brow is drawn the Siva Shakti Yantra:  two yoni triangles descend through one male lingam (upward).

In fact I did not draw this Ganesh until I had almost completed Mother Kali:  then I was nudged to do so – how could I have forgotten?

Ganesh is immensely difficult to draw, combining animal, child-human and divine anatomy – a challenging initiatory obstacle for any artist! – as I found with my repeated erasures, disproportions and re-tries.

Below is my first “practice” drawing of Kali – in charcoal and touches of chalk on tinted sugar-paper:

I was experimenting with media:  but generally I prefer line, and it is easier to reproduce.  Siva is aware in blissful deep sleep:  she absorbs his electricity and crackles.  Her seer was Ramakrishna: her city is Calcutta whose river Hugli – a branch of the Ganges delta – flows into the Bay of Bengal.

Next I sketched her this way – in ferocious glee!  Kavitha emailed to me various traditional versions.   I was not happy with this sketch, and at first I put it away.  Lord Siva looks as if he wishes to lie-in for a bit longer.


At about that time, a joke entered:  to illustrate my friend Tony’s Cat-a-Log for his exhibition.  Our goddess looks perplexed, floating on the subconscious sea.  Behind her and to the left the charcoal flurry suggests Ganesh waving his trunk – perhaps reminding me to do him first?


GALLERY ONE (below) – click on any smaller image to view or enlarge. These are Mahavidya Kali, Tara (sketch), Mahavidya Tara, two versions of Mahavidya Tripura Sundari and Mahavidya Bhuvaneshwari.  The deities supporting Tripura Sundari’s throne in version 2 were squeezed up together by xerox, scissors and glue, to fit the book’s format!

I recommend to you Kavitha’s book for their sadhana, integration and practice.  I will just mention here, that Kali is an elemental force;  Tara is a wild lass; Tipura Sundari invites with pure alluring Beauty, and Bhuvaneshwari bestows the Wisdom.  They express the light and shadows of our inner nature.


The graceful weight of Tipura Sundari’s great beauty awakens Siva’s sense of humour.  The gods supporting their plinth are (from left to right) the trimurti Siva, Brahma and Vishnu – destruction, creation, preservation – with Siva in his prehistoric character as Rudra the Wild Hunter.  They flank the Sri Chakra Yantra, Nature’s mandala upon nine strings.

The painting of figs in this sequence is an illustration for D H Lawrence’s long poem “Figs”.


I include in GALLERY 2 (below) Anthony Wigg’s portrait of a Cyclopean woman, and another fig.  In many versions of the fiery Mahavidya Bhairavi, she has severed Siva’s head: while he in his Rudra the Wild Hunter consciousness looks on, presaging the self-beheaded Chinnamasta .   Kavitha asked me to remove Rudra and restore Siva’s head.  These three versions show the careful rotation of his body, as if during birth.

Mahavidya Chinnamasta – meaning “severed head”  also has two versions.  I used a drawing I did about 12 years ago, and added Chinnamasta’s three devotees.  Ecstatic, headless, thought-free, she drinks pure Consciousness, absorbing Kundalini from the lovers who earth the lightning-flash.  Her seer in the 1930s was the poet Ganapati Muni, spiritual brother to Ramana Maharshi.  Another of her names is Vajra Vairocani,”the effulgent lightning bolt of pure perception.” David Frawley (of Ganapati Muni’s lineage) gives this version of her Mantra: Om srim hrim hrim aim vajra-vairocaniyai hum hum phat Svaha!  

Those bell-notes awaken non-dual consciousness. He writes, “Srim is a mantra of beauty and light. Hrim is the mantra of inner transformation. Her Name is the  lightning of realisation. Hum gives the power to cut through illusions. Phat concentrates the force of the mantra.  Svaha (Awakening) offers it to the inner fire of awareness.  Bhairava the fierce form of Siva, is the seer of her mantra, as well as Bhairavi’s.”

Thus, the mutual exchange of Mahavidyas Bhairavi and Chinnamasta.

I find it best to view and close the images one by one, rather than sequentially inside the gallery, where the line sometimes tends to blur.

Of all the Mahavidyas, the one I most enjoyed drawing was Dhumavati, the elder grandmother or crone.  She was done in less than a day.  She carries a sieve and she rides a chariot flanked by two Saturnine crows.  Meeting her again, her wisdom nourishes me in the strange, immortally changing flesh.  I find it wonderful how the wild ecstatic Chinnamasta is followed in the sequence by Dhumavati: out of ageless Mystery speaks the fountain of youth.


Here is my sketch and finished drawing of Mahavidya Bagalamukhi and her suitor – the logical mind.  What is your story?


Mahavidya Matangi has an extraordinary presence – she resonates with Saraswathi at the beginning of this post.  Her seed vibration is “HRIM” – the inner transformation through creative expression.


In this smaller sequence are:  a painting my daughter did at five years old for her great-grandfather – Jumping over the fire for Persian new year equinox – photos of Rose and Silver-birch – and a Black panther. In the Vidya we integrate primordial resources of childhood, the fiery heart, the animal kingdom and earth.   These pictures remind me that when my daughter was a child she had a dream one night that she met a Great Cat – a tiger, panther or lion. She kept still and they gazed quietly into each other’s eyes.

And finally, Mahavidya Kamalakshmika – With Lakshmi, goddess of the hearth, and of prosperity, she remains as ever Kali !

The wild fires of Kali, Bhairavi and Chinnamasta, the music of Tripura Sundari, Bhuvaneshwari and Matangi, the challenging passion of Bagalamukhi and the ancient wisdom of Dhumavati flow everlastingly sweet within her being.  Desire ripens to serenity. The Elephants return; she rides the lotus.


And from a neighbouring Wisdom School:

Tibetan Dakini – re-drawn from an unknown original





My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom. See also Aquariel

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2019. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address


Kali in the Spring – a Contemplation

In this free improvisation on a pair of Kali Yantras, Western and Eastern Mandala traditions alike share the sacred geometric form and its Tantric alchemy. My next post will feature my original illustrations of the Yoga Wisdom Goddesses or Mahavidyas – including Kali – for Kavitha Chinnaiyan’s thoughtful book and teaching: “Shakti Rising”. The book was published in 2017,

Here is a sketch of Mother Kali’s ecstatic great lover, the Bengali saint Ramakrishna:


Early writings from Journal – 3 October 2010

Outside there is a gale. The house is a ship.  Today I contemplate the two Kali Yantras my friend in Australia sent.

Mother Kali’s four gated field is red. Eight rose/lotus petals with indigo stems encircle a big black sphere. Inside the black sphere is a Tetrahedron: five white womb triangles with a white bindu or apex, point towards you all her dark, cosmic power: AMA the dark womb is herself so powerful she is almost Yang.

(February 2019 – I drew for today this freehand copy:)

Marriage of Tetrahedrons

In the East and in Platonic wisdom the Tetrahedron is nature’s most stable form. Whether the apex points downwards (female/Shakti triad) or upwards from baseline (male/Siva triad), the Triad is produced to rest on any of its four sides.  No wonder that in the Western Mystery tradition J H V H is named Tetragrammaton, with the hidden fourth-dimension factor which seeds it.

In the Tetragrammaton cycles of YOD HEH VAV HEH, the second-HEH grows from centre of the triangle YOD HEH VAV, giving birth to new YOD, new cycle. So the second HEH in the cycle is pregnancy! The letter HEH in Tetragrammaton has the female function, but in Tarot Alphabet, HEH’s character is male, assigned to Aries and the Emperor. The Yin is so filled with fertility, she comes forth as the Son, the Yang.



The strange potency conjoins man and woman, of whom the most uncompromisingly transformative is woman.

I begin to get a feel of Kali, her luminously dark velvet field, her awesome sexual shout, her red tongue, her necklace of skulls …  In today’s first Yantra (Yangtra!), the womb triangle/tetrahedron accommodates Siva’s fiery light through her body, without disturbing the total blackness of her sphere.

Mother Kali in India needs strong devotees, for she upsets their lives and floods their villages. Ramakrishna of Bengal embodied her devoted Tantric playfellow . And he was a crazy wisdom, often off his head.

Ramakrishna in samadhi, 1879


Perhaps Kali arouses a man’s chaotic feminine oracle, but in a woman she becomes peace, a peace with gleaming eyes, white, black, red, softening to indigo rose violet in her valleys.

Kali is the wild weather that flows from the Himalayas.

One of the tributaries of Ganges is Kali Gandaki, which flows from the Tibetan watershed between those regal 8,000 metre consorts Dhaulagiri and Annapurna – the man and the woman, each is a mountain range. Dhaulagiri is priapic and dramatically visible. Annapurna is mostly concealed behind a vast shadowing cirque of Nilgiri or cloud mountains.


Ganges is a royal water serpent through the plains.
Supposedly, my natal Neptune in Libra (square Jupiter in Capricorn) epitomises my life-long offerings to Dhaulagiri and Annapurna.

Kali is a Seer.


Siva Kali detail – Sacred India Tarot 2011

Kali 13, sacred india tarot publ.Yogi Impressions 2011


A word on Yantra …
Yantras are geometrical constructs of Tantra – an art of touch and fluid union. One of Tantra’s translated meanings is “the web” or connectivity.  In these sketches I romp through a few Western forms and symbols of Yantra:




PART TWO – October 2010


Six is the lily, with a six starred sun inside. The man blossoms into feminine. The Lovers are soul triads which marry. Consider the lilies of the field, they toil not, nor do they spin. Solomon in all his glory is not as these.

Within the Flower of Solomon’s Seal or Shield, Solomon in all his glory is the Temple and the intuition. The Star of David – Solomon’s son? or father? – is ABEN, the Stone: the fluidity of the Philosopher’s stone or elixir: the Seal becoming the son.

Lilies grow with the roses in the Magician’s garden. The rose is grown from the heart of the Cross formed of six squares: the rose is wrapped  within the Cube of Space.

The rose has multiples of five petals – her cultivation and extravagance.

Five is the female rose, pentagonal star of humankind representing the five limbs or senses.  Red is the colour-tone of Mars and of desire. “Five” suggests 1+4, 14 the gematria (number) of DVD (in Hebrew, dovid) the Beloved; and also of Gold – the work of the Sun.


The latin Cross (it folds up into a cube) is the field. The Star is higher consciousness. The inner Pentagram is humankind, and the root, flower and seed of human desire.

Kali the goddess is black and fierce. In Kabbalah she might be seen as Binah’s AMA, the dark womb.

The Chamundra Kali Yantra has five pink-red petalled concentric waves: the centre one is a Seal of Solomon (double Tetrahedron) coloured red – inside a white octagon of two squares. Like the great Sri Chakra Yantra, she draws inward and flows outward simultaneously: very quiet and at peace. She opens from inside a black field of Four Gates.

So she also expresses the Akasha Tejas tattva, or (in the western School) the whole Tree of Life inside an egg (field) of AIN SOF, the Endless. With six in the middle, she emanates as five rings, and is enclosed in a field of four.


(February 2019 – Like the other Kali Yantra in this post, I draw it for myself.  To embody Her birth-giving energy, I copied the computer-generated  version  I was sent.  The physical contact allows Nature’s irregularities to occur – as blown by wind and wave.)

Yantras are fertile seeds and signs. They need to be seen four-dimensionally – that is, as a tree or fountain.  They rise through the orbital system or cross-sectional rings of time.  They suggest the growth of the tree from root and shoot, encompassing all its seasons, seeds and bird-life.  This Yantra has Priapus in the centre, 8-pointed, white and red, surrounded by four pulses (orgasmic time-rings) of the Rose, and then again by the Cube of Space which is black. Priapus contains the feminine of the male flower, and at the heart is a white bindu. So, the Chamundra Yantra is Mother Kali’s kundalini shakti or kus. How sweetly these things translate.

And … in this light, this Yantra, a drawing to come some day, and how to see it? – how Siva couples with this full-blown dark-rose kus of Kali. Siva is nearly always painted white, though sometimes he has a peacock-blue throat. His is a Yogic phallus. He sits in Yoga (union) and it points up within him, and inside him there is Mother Kali absorbing it all, and creating a wild, rumbustious universe.

Any such focus is good, for holding the mind quiet. The Yantra is held loosely, lightly in my being. Note how between the dark-rose outward petalling, the Akashic space lightens from black through indigo to sky. BINAH – the cosmic sphere of Understanding: stand-under the waterfall.


The above is some writing I discovered from nearly ten years ago.

Below is the sketch and my original portrait of Kali in 2016 for Kavitha’s book “Shakti Rising“.  See my next post for originals of the other nine yogic Mahavidyas.

Sketch for Kali in “Shakti Rising” by Kavitha Chinnaiyam

Mahavidya Kali: in “Shakti Rising by Kavitha Chinnaiyam





My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom. See also Aquariel

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2019. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address


The Coin of the Sages


The Coin of the sages is an alchemist’s gift from heaven. It turns up in any crucible of life and relationships.  We polish our old copper coins (Venus) till they shine as the golden Sun.  

In an old alchemy journal I found this entry …  delicately it interfaces the timeless diary of today.  “The Glory of the World” and “The Golden Tripod” which are quoted, are 17th century writings in the Hermetic Museum library.  The Tarot keys discussed are in the Builders of the Adytum deck.

BOTA Tarot Tableau: three septenaries, seven columns: the keyboard. This deck is published by the Builders of the Adytum in black and white: each student colours and thereby empowers his or her own deck, following the Builders’ strict guidelines. The colours of the Keys have audial resonance also.


8 March 2003            COIN

The ripe Priestess  sometimes makes Hermit’s Mountain seem remote … winnowing out error and shattering the Tower.   These three Keys form a vertical column in the BOTA Tarot Tableau. In fact they represent the bud, the bloom and the bursting of the seedcase as from chrysalis … in nature and in any creative process.

Beginning my Sapphire Tree painting for a book cover:  I started as blind egoists do on the dirty surface.   This should grow organically from centre as a mandala — not in one rush like a face.   Sapphire means liquid pale blue fire.   The 72 leaves should be a delicate tracery of  seminal wave connections in the white fire around and between the Menorah branches. Working from the centre outwards, let it grow.   Here is a dirty pool.   Cleanse to begin with, its centre.

Paul Foster Case invites me again to dip into the alchemical forests of “GLORY OF THE WORLD”.   When reading these, fountain gently with them up and down, restoring the synchrony of heart-body which is today collapsed and tired.

On page 61 it discusses the COIN OF THE SAGES.   I can see this white Coin from the sky, so bright that I cannot see yet what is impressed upon it.

Our Stone has its head in the earth and its root in the air.   I read alchemical texts not with my Hod but with the breath, with my inside.   Then they glow.   It says the Spirit delights in nothing so much as its own Soul and its own body.  Delight is another word for the Higher Will; be comforted.   It is minted pure and bright and white within the dark.   Begin from the centre
but let it descend first from the white sun.   The work of

the Priestess lets it descend.   10am, School of the Soul.

Priestess, King of Swords and the Fool, 1987

The Priestess, Rosy Cross and Fool descending – 2003

September 2018 – The evolution of those two drawings (1987 and 2003) is my life today –  the heart beats within the tapestry.  A house to paint in, which I invoked  15 years ago and forgot about, recently materialised;  last week I beeswaxed the floor and began work there with a new Tree of Life – see end of this post.  I have not painted for years!

new art-room


2003 continued:

Hurly Burly welcomed her Mum so kindly last night at the Garrick wine-bar – Mum was feeling lousy because she’s forgotten how to paint.   HB too has been re-discovering how to paint — the light came in through her window.   I had a nice time there where she works,  but ate and drank too much, which paralyses my gut for the night.   But to read the “Golden Tripod” now, sprays white light into the Garrick; and I was introduced to a curly Paddy who has 400 (?) paintings he said he bought and collected in his house — the secret of a good painting is it invites you to take a walk into it.   Tall tales do not matter in conversation.   On my right, as I tackled warm goat’s cheese and fennel swordfish and a big glass of wine, sat Marta’s sister with her hyperactive three-year-old son Adam enjoying himself all over the counter with his tiny neat brown hands.

Enough:   now focus on Basil Valentine.

It is impossible for Yesod to sperm the Stone.  Yesod cannot remember how.  The sperming comes down through antakharana – the pipeline – and is observed and — as perception of it refines and begins to dispel the obscuring cloud — obeyed with joy: as in p.45 in the Golden Tripod.   Note the Source of the Priestess’s stream and her receiving element.   Male and female seed are the One thing, the Child within.   Wherever there is joy in creation is this natural intercourse of the Air, the secret fire, the dew.   The Earth is only the invisible thing that attracts union.  Out of no thing blossoms unicity.

Seek not our Stone in substances which cannot stand the test of fire.   Seek it in the incombustible oil that is the fire itself that ever renews and fattens the land.   It grows and gently shines and increases like a plant.   It increases in that it prevails.   Through all darkness, the stem glows and shines.


September 2018

Here is the beginning of my new Tree painting – just sketching out Malkuth, Yesod, Hod, Netzach in the Lower Face, based on  carvings of the Companions around Chartres cathedral;  Archangel Rafael in Hod has no face yet.  I hope for it to combine thematically the medieval flowering of Islamic alchemists and Christian sages, the Star, Cross and Crescent, the child and parenting, the cosmic serpent of our DNA, nature and the fountain of life … as the journey begins, let it lead me where it will.


Life has been too full-on for me to keep up with my blog posting.  But a month or two ago, I posted in my other blog Aquariel about a pair of Tarot oracles in June and July.   Here are the three links:

For Gaia

Through thunder of the dew fall silent

The dying and the guardians




My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom. See also Aquariel

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2018. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address


Castling for Old-Timers

Climbers on the rope – 1964 – a left-handed belay!

Early this year I took a few climbing lessons at the age of 69 – inspired by family developments.  I used to be a fair tree-climber and sea-cliff scrambler; I dislike any form of mechanical or competitive exercise. At Swiss Cottage climbing centre in London I learned to manage the rope and belay a climber safely, and to climb a wall and to abseil down it.  I felt scared but each time I came away with a stretch of freedom in my spine – like a cat.  I was hooked.  Recently I started at the Castle climbing centre at Manor House near Finsbury Park.  I go alone, to practice bouldering and to watch.

The Castle is an old pumping station, built as a huge Victorian folly with turrets and three towers – a handsome building.  Some 20 years ago it was leased from English Heritage and turned into reputably the most varied indoor climbing centre in the land.  It stands in an acre of organic garden; all the food is home grown and the place is run on self-sustaining lines.

I would like to be at the Castle all day, take some good reading and find a nook between scrambles, like writing in a coffee shop.  I could alternate climb-stretch exertions and scribing.  Yesterday I kept getting bored and tired and then caught up in it again.  Perhaps I want someone to do it with.  A brand-new bouldering room is about to be opened.

And … why not sketch?  … from life!  I just did these from photos.  Keep practicing.

How odd that I was so snooty about the climbing centre my niece took me to, many years ago – somewhere in the east end.  She and her man monkeyed sleekly up and down fierce looking walls.  When I had a go I hated it.  There was no sea-breeze cliff or moorland view to lift or inspire my dragging body weight, no rock for fingers to love, just dead cement and coloured toy holds.  I felt like a stone.  I was amazed at the guys climbing along the ceiling like spiders.  I thought they were fanatics.

These two “boulders” on the 1st floor at the Castle are called Lust and Envy. They are great. I spend a lot of time on those – but not between them!

You know … in rock climbing for senior moments, don’t just try to complete a traverse or a wall;  be inventive with the holds and their funny shapes, seek out different things with them, stay on the spot, find out what my toes can do.   That pleasing tingling ache in my hands develops finger strength – the same delicate dexterity for playing the piano.  Blood flow increases and differentiates the tendons.  Walk tall!   Feet strengthen also.  Can stand tippy-toes better than before, I think.  Body core – gravity centre – I was aware of this many times yesterday when moving laterally.  I picked up some tips while watching rock climbing videos online.  Sooner or later I will strike up a friendship or join a rope or get myself a lesson with one of the helpful staff.  Wait and see.  Right now my whole body is delighted to be doing this.  I like the chalky smell there, and sometimes they play cool sounds.   In the 2nd-floor cafe is excellent coffee and restorative peanut bars to eat while watching high and daring ascents with rope and pitons  Nearby is a kid’s wall which I scramble up and down.   I love watching the kids; they come with their teacher and scamper all over the sheer slabs – I never grew up!

We older folk are sensitive or rugged individual types … the sweetness of the solitude on distant fells comes to this place, to keep in trim.

What do my molecules, cells, nerve fibres and enzymes of the Great Change feel about it?  I am a stretchy amoeba pattern of trillions of stars.  That’s nice – try to recall that, next time!  I would like my climbing to be contemplative as the technique slowly enters  my bones.  Yesterday it felt like stepping back.  At Swiss Cottage wall earlier this year, they said when you are learning you progress for a couple of sessions and then it seems you slip back and that’s natural because next time it is suddenly easier.  The oscillation moves forward and back, like when hung on a difficult place.  New agilities being built take time.  The muscle while developing is young, hard and unwieldy.  It needs to loosen into itself and become flexible, for the flexibility and grace is power.  These are lessons for life.

Line dance, 1988. When I drew these, I felt wonderful afterwards.  It flowed and danced up the street within me.  There is nothing like “creating energy” by taking a line for a walk to see where it might go.  As far as I remember, I drew these slowly, consciously, on the edge of exploration; that is what released their energy.

It is the same principle my David talked about, re any kind of physical exercise: don’t do it every day, take days off in between for the agility to develop as a whole.  While at rest, it sinks in to build new cells.

The same principle guides the inner work. The Spirit is in charge.  Awaken to it!  Advise and entice my stellar amoeba over the playground; then rest.  I guess as I cultivate my slow and dainty deliberation, the technique will come, because rock climbing isn’t with brute strength but with coordination.  Coordination is the core.  The core gets blissed out when she is filled with the inner star.   The beautiful lesson of Life:  Core Strength, let go and watch her reach and swing and flow.   Surprise!  Delight!

Click to access 55th-genekey-prelude.pdf

Hey, Gene Key 55!   Richard Rudd’s talk of molecules and blood circulation in the music of change brought to my mind a  starfish.  “The human being is nothing more than a symphony of interwoven rhythms, tempos and sounds.”   A robin calls outside: and Clive who loves Richard Jeffries, records vibrant birdsongs on his website Art in Nature.  DNA is structured in triplets.  All our relationships are triadic.  Musical form is ABA with C.  Abac-us.

I like my primary-coloured abacus and its beads.   The magus – my inner teacher –  is getting interested and encourages me with the climbing.

You know it is such a chance for magic – the inner plane – to river into embodiment and to fill flesh, bone and sinew with stars and to know and respect the tired crystals in our blood: the imagination illumines.

She is the beginning, and out of her unbounded oceanic “confusion” the male arises to differentiate and gather it into a distaff – Siva’s still point within the centre of each wheel within wheels.  The feminine Sakti movement giving birth to and generated through the stillness, plays on the loom of numberless threads.





View from Near Hope gill, Lake district

My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom. See also Aquariel

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2018. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address

What is Ascension?

A reading from Caitlin & John Matthews’ Arthurian Tarot (cut deck once into centre of pile, right and left hands)

Re-reading some old writings in 2005 about 2012 and the ending of the Mayan calendar, I found a forgotten practical insight: to realign each day my “human terrestrial axis” imaginatively to the galactic core.

The actual picture we were given was: in December 2012 the configuration of planets interacting with stellar influences might pull our planet into a more upright position relatively.  Indeed the astrology during that time was quite loaded, an “eggs in one basket” situation with the Moon moving through those energy fields.  This could indicate a symbolic or gradual polar-axis alignment with galactic centre – perceived not geo-physically but as an evolving consciousness.

To uplift and straighten my spine with polar axis is a quiet conscious work. The same force of Nature in ages past raised early homo sapiens to stand and walk upright.    I have to keep reminding myself, as I keep forgetting … the “Schumann resonance” – Gaia’s slow pulse or wavelength; to lean with the mast of the Grail ship.

The idea of Earth’s polar axis tilting physically was – as I thought at the time – a naive and literal interpretation of the transcendent view which is:  Gaia’s subtle body moves into an altered resonance with her cosmic environment. In physical terms, this takes place in  waves over a geological period of generations.

Screenshot by Thomas Razzeto, 12.08pm, 21 December 2012 in Ipaza, Mexico

The slow change of the angle of the axis of the earth with respect to the centre of the galaxy will bring no ill effects.  As far as Mother Nature goes, it is business as usual.  The sun continues to shine, the earth continues to spin, and the four seasons continue to transform from one into another.  …  Once a year the earth orbits into the special position that creates the galactic alignment, and once every 26,000 years this happens at virtually the same moment as the winter solstice.”


12 sphere Tree of Life

The above is extracted from –  which contains an article by Thomas Razzeto in 2008.  Because of the time lapse since then, I slightly abridged it.

He continues by describing as a “sacred tree” the sunrise procession of planets on 2012 solstice through the ecliptic path which crosses the Milky Way’s dark centre.  At solstice noon the sun transited the core point – as I understand it, a subtle but powerful event through all the planes.  “The Mayan sacred tree is an astronomical reference to the cross made by galactic equator and the ecliptic path of the Sun as seen from Earth, near the centre of the galaxy.  The sacred tree is part of the fixed background of the stars.  Its shape and location with respect to the other stars never changes.

“We should consider the location of the centre of the galaxy as the Mayan womb of creation.  On this day at this time, it is at the bottom acting as the source, the root system of the sacred tree.  So everything comes from source into our world of duality.  What a beautiful metaphor!  This makes much more sense than the false yet often repeated statement that the sun would be on top of the centre of the galaxy on this special day.

“When we look at the configuration at midday – the moment of the Sun’s greatest strength – we have the sacred tree being exhibited in an extremely interesting way.  When we consider the Sun’s presence in the middle of the dark rift while it is also in the middle of those four planets (Venus, Mercury, Pluto, Mars), I think we have found something that is quite remarkable.  …  We have the opportunity to align our thoughts and vibrations with others who wish the same for our planet.”  (Copyright Thomas Razzeto 2008).


This is a process to feel or empathise intuitively, rather than try to analyse.  Light is born through darkness.  Time dissolves into cyclic presence.   As the 2012 concentric continues to realign our axial relationship, I think we should listen more to this tender point in ourselves each winter and each summer, and keep still.  It may be that more terrestrial tremors develop at solstices where there is increased sensitivity to magnetic realignment.  We may watch and see and be shown.  In the sacramental consciousness, no humanity or atom of nature is separate.

Initially the impact is subjective: an addictive acceleration  – an interactive and  reactive technology overload.  Terrestrial beings who will not or cannot harmonise with the holistic shift, are flung onto the illumined stage periphery; they may live violently, acting out the drama we desire to watch and to entertain ourselves with; or they may suffer the pressure and upheaval.  Precisely the same rattling disturbs my lower mind.

The lower frequency (individual and collective) in disarray and discord shows in high-relief, man’s inhumanity to man and to the animal, plant and mineral kingdoms.

I am organically interwoven with this as a Sun-Moon Capricorn/Cancer with five planets in earth signs. Through frequent fatigue and my lower mind’s dismal chatter, I am yet aware during the years since 2012 of a progressive widening of the gap between my view of things and the mainstream worldview.  The distorted media version is here today and gone tomorrow; keeping my ear to the ground, I pick up only what is needful, to be informed.

Capricorn glyph with Hermes Trismegistos, 1988

It was said in the earlier days,  ”In the rollercoaster through the Photon Belt, those who evolve will tend to detach and stand aside from those who regress or exploit others at any level.”  We observe the polarisation in the politics, in land management and in business. The new and slowly growing holistic principle is profoundly philanthropic; the grass-roots flourish through my own extended family. Only connect …

At the same time I ask myself where and how do I engage with the regressive element and the agony of its victims and the homeless, as I am challenged with it daily?  It is like two sides of a widening crevasse or bergschrund dividing the mountain from the glacier; that great split is bridged for we are One.  The delineation and its depth are clear.

Master R said in 1947 … “Ours is no work of other worlds and planes. Here on this weeping, suffering earth, is where the Shrine of Love must be built, and built with action, not alone with words …  The can opener of the intellect is too dull to probe the secrets of the Heart of Life.  Knowledge goes deeper than statement. Love, and you shall know … Thy pain is my pain, thy sorrows pierce my heart.  I stand not aloof.

Photo from


long ridge near Hope Gill, Lake district Cumbria (photo by JA, April 2018)

The real meaning of “Ascension” and the grounded Book of Revelation is – a daily grind!

Ascension is not “ascent” so much as discovering the path along the mountain.   Ascension draws the Light deep into the ground. I take responsibility for the illumining and clearing of my shadow and of ancient habits.  My tiny spine is Gaia’s – the invisibly vast polar axis with Her magnetic fields and shields and Aurora.   This perception throws up and out the baggage on the beach.  Many of us must embrace and clarify big relationship Karmas and their wounds as a whole at this point in time.  I evolve not through denial but through forgiving.  It is no use to pass the buck!  It is no use to paste it onto a mythical “Them” out there, or “They” in all our discontented issues and habits of speech.  The Change in humankind begins nowhere else but here:  in myself and in yourself.   There is no time like the present connectivity.  There is no time but the present.

My father once visited a Buddhist Rishi who replied, “The past is gone. The future hasn’t happened yet.  The present is Now.  Don’t waste it!”

Ascension is your and my compass: compassion.

Connect around the pyramid – a drawing I did for my father for Xmas 1987

A hidden quantum of lighthouse-keepers in the Change reaches critical mass.  There is no single event; there is a decade, a generation, a lifetime’s curve of changes in attitude to our environment.  The atrocities I see and am distressed by only emphasise the bigger picture of the Change at all levels, throughout the human gene pool.

Stained glass at St Monica’s church, Palmers Green in London.  This is no crucified Christ but one who strides from the tomb, embracing all the worlds

Uranus entered Taurus last week; he will traverse this threshold back and forth for a year or two, before proceeding into the springtide deep within Earth’s flowering.  Though there will continue to be battles with land grabbers, we are likely to witness an “unexpected”  collective turning point as the Gaia awareness gains environmental strength;  a hands-on questioning of our use of fuel and food and its waste.  The brakes were on for decades – the juggernaut against the brake, an immense friction of scorched tyres – but from about here the whole thing begins to slow down.  Slow down!  Personal and collective history demonstrate that we human beings individual and collective do not change and grow until it is unendurable for us not to.

What is the Gaia consciousness?  For me, my spine, my core, is Earth’s:  and Earth’s alignment with the Solar system’s flower of orbits and magnetic fields, and with the galaxy and other stellar systems.

We humans are in no atom separate from nature, the soil, bird, beast, insect and rock forms.  We humans are in no atom separate from Earth’s internal dark magma – our unconscious – which bursts like a phoenix into fire and light the instant it encounters air … the song of the breath.  We humans are in no atom separate from our roads and our heavy buildings and our parasitic tourism and our blinkers.

Biro-amour drawing for David by Tony Wigg. The Greek lettering is ‘Phallos’ whose root ‘Shines’: the verb moves but does not name or fix the light. In the magma sphere within earth’s mantle, there is no air for light to exist. The analogy is with the subconscious ignition of creative imagery. Darkness holds the Shining within itself.

We humans along with all organisms are her breath, her pulse.   Wherever possible, if your life is inextricably busy, accelerated or pressured, pause for just a moment:  slow down to reflect a detail or be silent.   Creatures in the woodland stop their foraging, to look around … until the active fountain rises again within them.  Be refreshed.

These brief openings will grow in due course, and join up like the blue sky through clouds.  Join hands with all of us who try to do this as and when we can. In the inevitable flowering of Logres, find and cherish the Grail vessel in a hillside brook, and dip to drink.  Although poisonous and persuasive, the economic and military juggernaut fights for existence as it dies.  So called world leaders and magnates are puppets.  They do me a favour: they show me my hard drive.  Where am I greedy? Where do I want more and more?   It is actually a dream.   It is hard to wake up; but glimpses come like shafts of sunlight through nature’s canopy.





Ramana Maharshi with young squirrel

My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom. See also Aquariel

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2017. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address

Friendship Poem

Let my face cave into your SELF.
Every picture of my thought
spills out of being wordless.

Let my fear of you go,
let lion talk.  Let the lion see.
The sun doesn’t bother what goes on
when it rises and sets on earth.

The disk of the world’s hidden side
is a darkness on my light.
The wonder of that silent spreading corona
pulls away the cloth behind my eyes.

I have no support. The saying stops.
Let soles of my feet be eyes
to see and love, pick up the ground.

The darkness on the sun
is angel’s finger on my lips
stopping speech,  making me hear.

EK83 Flower of night 86.JPG

I wonder much at my concerns.
As the reel unrolls, I clench in my seat
so forming views ; the Inward, inexpressible
gift of the holy, returns
as soon as I go.
No matter what happens
to me, my walls arise and fall, like
Rome on the ocean wave.

The safety in just looking
has no sense at all.
It takes the risk,
the leaping
of the absolute deer

and skittering over the threshold
pushed,  each moment
opens from each point
of space a bright DAN DE LION —
Be brave !  be bold !  be
absent !
Let it go !

When chimerae collide
in the upkeep clashing,  let
the Lion see
how in relationship,
several masks combine,
clashing and colliding
anxiety and peace.

Raising your heads together,
unquiet mother and fishy friend,
let your patterns pull
and drag you home.

The pull to drown within
opens the flower’s corona upturned:

a voice with
nothing to say.

from “Poems of Eclipse 1999”





My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom. See also Aquariel

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2017. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address

As we become still and look


My tarot reading last week – see Aquariel

Thrice Great Hermes said, “For never … can an embodied soul that has once leaped aloft, so as to get a hold upon the truly Good and True, slip back into the contrary.”

This is a profound Law.  Note he said ‘embodied’.  He didn’t say ‘without the body’ (as in trance or nirvana).   He said in effect, Leap with hands and feet into the heart of God.  That is an osmotic shift in the atom of human consciousness as a whole.  The membrane, the veil is semi-permeable.  There is no way the sap of the Tree of Life can run back downward.  The ascension pulls it through the cells;  a vacuum which it must follow and flow into.  Once you are through, you know that everyone comes through it sooner or later.   There are certain old clothes which are impossible to wear.   Love is no longer a thing of the movies.


Considering Chopin whom I am starting to sketch … his music was and is pure female opera song:  his unique ability to let them out of his bag;  his passion for singers, their lovely companionship and their voice which did such things.  Perhaps he might admire but could not love a woman who did not sing?  George Sand was probably not a singer (or perhaps she was?) – she called a spade a spade; her yang complemented his yin;  they may have had deep Karmic business in their attraction field.  One of the two sketches I did last night, while watching this video, is from hers of him.  From their liaison in Majorca came the tender Preludes which I used to play and to love dearly.  I have an old recording of Arrau playing them.  In one of them he throws a fiery tantrum, and my father used to mimic in falsetto George’s shock:  “Frederick!”

The journey up the Tree of Life through osmotic membranes is continuous, and there are obstacles – veils or resistances, a sort of grey chaos like my head-cold just now, through which the flowers spike their way.  These things come in waves.  When an inner contact is brewing, it brings some obscuring resistance to clear or blast off.  Through the snot and tissues, the irrepressible florets … make a baby sneeze.   The rising sap is a fountain of little fishes.  Not one of them can turn round and go back to the sack.   When the One which is ‘I’ reaches egg … PRESTO bellissima!   Nothing is EVER the same again.

Generally speaking, the course of life is a series of these small hiccups.  Perhaps jnana  (wisdom) is a state where they all join up and nothing is the same again EVER, and it is always like this:  the living and dying and letting go.   Robert Adams in Arizona looked like this.   He had no teeth when he said, “it has no end.  No end.”


I imagine the extra terrestrial intelligences which interweave with ours, have that form of expansion which to us is liberation.  I imagine they move with our magidim and guardian angels easily, for the wavelength doesn’t limit the concepts.   The Presence of the aumakua varies only by local interest from galaxy to galaxy.   Holding my coloured lamp which invites them and rebuffs tricksters, I imagine them freely filling the spatial interstices in the room.   I may not have the gift of seeing their forms, but perhaps I can converse receptively with their mystery.

Fred Hoyle wrote a novel (1950s) of a close approach to Earth, of this kind.  When it connected to the intellectual brain only, it drove it insane.  The acceleration which is pure Consciousness can however be contained in the breathing heart body:  the heart or solar plexus mind (awakening silence which loves).

In this light, what is the accelerative frequency which plagues the human engineering at the present time, and where can it be accommodated?   Food for thought!

It drives many of us insane, particularly those whose incentive is to destroy their neighbours and environment.  These processes are cosmic eyeblinks; we endure their unfolding for decades and sometimes centuries.  Into their unfolding the threads of millennia are drawn.   Nothing of what is seen today can be interpreted unless we rise above it and get some glimpse of the landscape from elevation.   The landscape looks like the Andean Nazca lines, criss-crossing the ridges and plateaux.   To read this map would require a four-dimensional understanding of acupunctural meridians or the nadis of yoga, applied to the leylines of earth and through history’s points of intersection.   An acceptance that the map is of that dimension assists the contact of Higher Mind with a tiny bee in the earth hive.   Most accounts of Self knowledge say we should fall open into knowing nothing.   Then that by which I am known, can get to work.

Meister Eckhart said, “God does his deepest work in the soul when she is at rest.”  

The alchemical maxim is: Art begins where nature ceases to act.  The Hermetic soul begins where human intellect lets go.   I could study books about Nazca lines and Nadis, but I don’t wish to fill up my thought again with issues whose complexity generates karma by psychological default.  I now see clearly the last twenty years since I suddenly downloaded a lot of knowledge and started to see.   The light ‘grounded’ through some intense liaisons.   It had to materialise.

In the olden days, the rishis sat under trees and went about their lives and adored the sunrise and their cows:  their loving heart saw and knew the All, because it is in our DNA.  This faculty has not changed, deep down.   The sensitive veins to it are reopened, by keeping quiet.   This is what the alchemists call, “the miners of the mountains”.   It is all within us when we become still and look.


Aruna is red fire,
Achala is standing still,
becoming a sacred hill, Arunachala, kind to kine
whose milk is the morning stream from Vedic stars.

The cow in Vedic hymn is sacred, pure light 
milked in pail by Upanishadic seers,
and a drove of cattle clouds at dawn, are gods 
that glow around her rising star.

In countless tales
the un-created cracked the sky;
but my silence of no angel’s feathers 
is drawn to see or sense
small feathers fall in place,
whether or not resolving.

1999, Poems of Eclipse


It is the human predilection on the surface to keep busy.  That is OK.  Our bodies and our skills need location and exercise. Ramana Maharishi used to say that for those born in the west, to have to live the busy western mindset was their Sadhana or spiritual practice.  For those born in the east, their Sadhana was through ashram discipline along Yogic paths.  I sense the interplay and often collision of the western and eastern paths, permeated now by communication technology.  Blavatsky brought them together in the 19th century;  J Krishnamurti lived the way the eastern and western ways ‘clap hands’.

Yet further east I hear the koan:  sound of one hand clapping.  Koans are designed for the mind’s habit to fall apart; and the existential koan is Love.





A Walk with Easter Bluebells


Happy Easter!  On a long walk in Hertfordshire with camera – which cannot capture that deep purple fiery glitter coming through the ground, so let’s just imagine it.


World turns upside down: sky through the ground


Sky, earth, water







living creature


living body


worlds meet: as above so below


tuning fork





like a bow



relationship, dancers

tingly tangle!



landscape every which way


Friend’s astrology on the Tree of Life





My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.  See also Aquariel

All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2017. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address