I was mulling over Avebury again; the Spring Equinox was approaching and thoughts of Sacred Sites were high in my mind, approaching this subject a high level Plateu of the Mind such as Lynn told me in Machu Pichu, and so I was reading an altogether unrelated book called Illyrian Spring, published in 1941 documenting the travel of Lady Keilworth through the Slavik and Yugosalvik Coastlines on through to the Adriatic. Even she had cause to mention Avebury. (In context) another walled town, a village within a sacred enclosure as Avebury is so well known now it seems fruitless to retain the past's traditions and repeat what has already been said. I was eating a cheese Croissant with a rich coffee from Chile, and so I was already therefore entangled in an Indiginous and Post American nightmare of Balance in a world only recently recovering from War. Our spirits were high and there was obvious enough closure on the difficulties of Our times that was affording me the luxury of a novel in bed. It was true, I was also longing for a past, days spent reading in bed. And also days spent climbing mountains to find good places to read. One could say, the Art of reading (that is) the art that isn't taught in school that only serious readers discover (and all mostly by accident). the Avebury connection, ten years I had been researching the site, and in that ten years at least ten or twelve times had I had cause to visit those Wiltshire Hills, getting lost in Swindon, chasing butterflies. the final words on the subject I had found in Cohane's @The Key@/ Ave as Ahaue as Aue as old Mother Goddess Before Time so lost now from all memory. Doubtless I was also that the Avebury Circle had been covnered well enough by Michael Dames and also by barabara HAnd Clow such that the inevitable conclusion of reading and re reading these three was clear; as ancient and as old Before Time there were the Owl Clan and the Goddess of Britain and of Some Distant Star that Avebury was aligned to (I had long suspected Sirius A, however to document such was out of the reach of my present book). But, enough said. Illyrian Spring had again turned my mind to Avebury and the Equinox, and that had necessitated a pause, just five days before the Equinox, five days before the codes would be given. What could I say in five days when the very Nature of reality was so destined to Shift? And given that this Nature which was the one true nature was going to be revealed to more and more people, what was the best way of honouring the Great Equinox Shift that I was then calling 2009?
I puffed up the pillows, and sailed with Lord Humphries and Lady Kenilworth for a while longer into the world of Ruskin and important questions about Art, as they were then framed. The phone, the gently windy warming day here on the front edge of the Artic, mercifully protected by the Gulf Stream, we could feel the new warmth and we were making sure that we had moved in time before the Next Sea Level Rise. For three days I had been reviewing John P Cohane's most brilliant book, the Key. And for good reason I was pausing on the passages where the second Great Word handed down to us from the antidiluvian period shouted at me. the Great Oc. Oc as in Ore, if the vowels are changed. Oc as in Hauoc, as in Hauchurst as in Hock. the great Giant.
Fundamentally subjective and objective data were now being correlated. The Vortex ''Hastings'' had in 2007 undergone a Magnetic Dipole Shift (It was in the previous Millenia a ''vile Vortex@'' as I Sanderson commented, plaguing the countryside of Sussex. All that Weaslth, and there in the corner of Britain in what ought to be one of the most prosperous places in the world, an impoverished artistic community and a town condemned to a Neoprene Summer of Ice cream and trampolines for its living, a town that left Artists braying at each other in a cut throat world where every penny counted and there were not enough to go around. this was Hastings. Hastings, St Leonards. And you would think, wouldn't you, givinen its Significance that that alone would insure its prosperity. Until 2008 in late December somebody at last decided thatit was worthy of a film. Now three films were competeing, all of them tending to make a play for the title of The Defitive Film on the Battle of Hastings. My personal feeling about this was that it should be rather more Doctor Who and Merlin rather than gladiator and Dogs of War. Yes, there were two brothers, and that is interestng enough, however, the reason and significance of that is not enough for a modern Audience. Was there any basis to install a more Cosmic view of Hastings?
Sanderson certainly argued for a @site@ somewhere in Sussex that would fit the bill of a vile core Vortex. It had been hidden, only a few Occultists knew about it and most of them were using the knowledge for their own ends, guarding the sacred wells, hiding the information so that it would not become public. these were clearly a rotten lot, and they had had their run of the town for at least a century, a history which is easy enough to document, even before Crowley arrived here. In the years since Crowley's death, this @vageuly@ mystical element to the twon has been guarded and misrepresented, as occultists tend to misrepresent reality for their own ends this is not surprising. that hundreds of young people had been indoctrinated into Secret Witch Covens was also not surprising, although difficult to stomach, there was nonetheless there still remained an aunthenticity about Hastings that drew People back again and again (someto Contain and Control the poer, like Burton with his Victorian notion that Energy Lines could be contained), and others, like Archie who knew that he had to leave HAstings to best illustrate a distributive link between the HAstings SeaBed and the natural Canadien Indians (a subject for another Blog). N'd then there was John Logie Baird, erstwhile founder of television who conducted some of his experiments here. Surely that in itself would make a town prosper. In truth, nobody was ever really sure why they came to HAstings, why they stayed and why when they left they ended up coming back. And equally nobody was really sure where all the money went and why it seemed that somehow the Youth were always up to mischief. However, far above Hastings town center, on the outskirts of Town in Orc, in the only place you could see 36-9 degrees across the sea and town, a Giant had awoken. that Giant was called Oc. And his seat was called North Seat. And if you can get there today you would see that this Giant's seat is a very large seat indeed.
So. there was my mind. In spring on the verge of Equinox in bed with Avebury and Stonehenge which are clear indications in the land that some form of Large People existed. (For now we can diverty ourselves from Von Daniken and extraterrestrial origins of life) and content ourselves, yourself with locating whereever it is you area t in these five days before the Great Equinox of ReBalancing and Rebirthing begins.
Who knows. Maybe I will see you on the other side.
Kepp in touch (more later). Much love. D.H.
