"There is only one way to learn," answered the Alchemist. "Act."
— after Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist
The old books promised that he would turn lead into gold. He spent half his life over furnaces and crucibles before he understood what they really meant.
Now he works at night, in the forest, over an open fire. His beard has turned to flame in its glow. On his chest hangs the skull of a bear, so that death is always close enough to advise him. On his staff hangs a bundle of herbs bound with twine, gathered at the hour when they are strongest. He bends low over the fire, not to warm himself, but to look.
His gold is attention. The world is full of miracles, and most people pass them by because they see nothing but themselves. That is the true lead: the heavy, tired self that hears and sees only its own voice. The Alchemist's art is to set it down for a moment and look at a flame, a leaf, a skull, until they show what they are.
"You are a serious man, but your seriousness is aimed at what interests you, not at what is worthy of attention. You are too busy with yourself; that is the whole trouble, and that is the source of your terrible weariness. Look for the miracles that are all around you."
— after Carlos Castaneda, The Teachings of Don Juan
The search does not end here. Years later the seeker returns in the Dark Fantasy Saga as the hermit of Hermit's Verity: Ascetic's Crucible, still bent over his answers, his face now burned the same orange as this fire. The bear skull is the collection's oldest recurring artifact.
(Fine Art Photography. Created in 2020.)
