Once upon a time

0. *Basel* D e d i c a t i o n (1993)

“Beauty is truth, truth beauty” - that is all

Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know. John Keats : Ode on a Grecian Urn

There is nothing more deadly in the universe than a spirit rejecting Beauty!

This is dedicated to my Love; Woman that I once Loved! Once upon a time!

To whom I tried to show something different; Purely Pure Beauty! Ever so!

But when I wrote such beautiful words … she only closed her eyes! Both eyes!

And when I uttered so beautiful thoughts, she also closed her ears! Ô both! Then when I laid bare beautiful equal feelings, all hers, even closed she her heart. And she refused to accept Beauty and Truth! And Knowledge! So that in the end there was nothing left but a cold wall of stone, immovable; behind which laid buried a spirit who had once lived and throbbed, beating: and now vibrated no more; for it had refuted to see Beauty and Truth! Oh! So I talked on to myself, gravely fronting this hard tomb of stone so hard! And I travelled in the speaking to everything, from star to star„ touching a spirit after a spirit and looking deep and more deeply, deep into the hearts of men„ until all was totally burnt out in me, destroyed, by the suffering„ leaving only Beauty, pure living Beauty inside: and now I want nothing. And the light of this Beauty, I gift to whole humanity! With only one prayer: “If you want to see Beauty, real and true, purely Beauty„ please try to have a Heart; so our World becomes Paradiso: otherwise, continues to become Inferno„ for you or for those around you !”

For, of Totality of our Cosmos„ We have so Little Time„ so Short a Time to Learn„ of Ourselves of our Loves of our Lives of our Thoughts of our dO-Om of our Errors!

To-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life’s but a walking shadow; a poor player,

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

And then is heard no more: it is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing.

Shakespeare : Macbeth (Act I)