That veil that separates us from other existence. Other knowing. A wobbly, undefineable, intangible nothing between worlds.
There are memories of the other side, as elusive as dreams upon waking in the morning. Where believing impossible things is as easy as the White Queen says…
“When I was your age, I always did it for half and hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”
““That’s the effect of living backwards,” the Queen said kindly: “it always makes one a little giddy at first—””
To be still enough to notice. And to hold on.
I have heard Freeman Paterson say that, photographically speaking, our subconscious preceeds us by about three years. With that in mind I went back, not quite that far, but far enough to find some work that makes more sense to me now. Far enough to receive some pointers again for direction. Looking backwards to move forwards, was it Scott?