January 26 2014 ice 099


I have no right to call myself one who knows.

I was one who seeks, and I still am,

but I no longer seek in the stars or in books;

I’m beginning to hear the teachings

of my blood pulsing within me.

My story isn’t pleasant,

it’s not sweet and harmonious

like the invented stories;

it tastes of folly and bewilderment,

of madness and dream,

like the life of all people

who no longer want to lie to themselves.


Hermann Hesse, Demian

Photo by Woodland Gnome 2014