PSYCHEDELIC APHORISMS

DeepDotWeb’s in-house shaman would like to share with you some of his thoughts:

BEGINNING OF THE FIRST INSTALLMENT

*        *        *

We may call him “Custer.”

The angry little fellow on the hill, making his last stand against the raging whirling walls of colour, closing in on every side.

He puts up resistance, does what damage he can, and then he, too, is swallowed and swept away – or else remains, and poisons all that follows.

*        *        *

When under its spell, the mind overwhelms the self by drowning it in gifts.

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Like a kitten in spring. “So much to do! So many birds and scents and mice and winds to sniff and chase and follow!”

*        *        *

Pearlhunting in a thunderstorm.

*        *        *

… And the song became a sleigh-ride through a frosty winter landscape.

The bass drum became the smattering of the wolf-dogs’ feet; the cymbal the crack of my whip as I urged them on; and the snare the beckoning drum of the god ahead.

*        *        *

Two hands, grotesquely disproportioned – the left hand a weak little stump of withered meat, the right a monstrous claw of steel, tearing the bark as he storms along its trunk.

*        *        *

A tattoo of the tree in



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