Click HERE for the musical inspiration to this scene/story. I’ve lived in Nemaea for more years than I dare consider now. Home is a different place to me. My keepers (and my friends) Ilya and Aleo, are as taciturn as any other Nemaean I’ve met. They speak to me, most certainly, but they are demonstrative to a far greater degree. I ask them questions and they don’t answer in direct, verbal ways. Days later, however, I often learn that they’ve shown me something, that they’ve answered my questions in the only ways that are truly sensible to them. I’ve learned that among Nemaeans, there are distinctions between things learned by the mind and things learned by the body. Mind-learning serves its purpose, quite well…but body learning achieves a deeper, more profound emotional resonance. It is through body learning that Nemaea has begun to reveal itself to me. “Hathor is a special planet,” Ilya told me, quietly. “One must approach her on a small ship, if possible.” I’d asked why, and he simply shrugged. My answer, in retrospect, demanded body learning and it was through my journey to this world, that I learned why large ships are encouraged to stay away. Hathor is a small, terrestrial planet, but its significance dwarfs its physical attributes. One approaches Hathor on a small ship so that one may “see” her as she was first seen: one approaches Hathor in as small a body as possible, and walks upon her face with bare feet (as often as possible.) Hathor is a world rich in symbolism, the first of the friendly worlds known to have sheltered proto-Nemaean people in the decades before the Widows’ Year…it is a world on which countless thousands died, and so a proper measure of respect is demanded. One cannot learn this with one’s mind alone. One face her, as any human might face any planet. We are insignificant…little more than grains of sand in the grand schemes of the Natural Universe, and so our ambitions, our egos, and our most noble dreams are proportional in their significance. I learned this on Hathor, as Ilya and Aleo left me—for long, long periods—to contemplate the vast, sweeping desert, baking in the light of twin, yellow suns. —Dorianna Eicher Personal Journal (unpublished.) * Once, a long time ago, I purchased a CD. It was, as habit dictates, a soundtrack. It serves and the musical accompaniment to Kingdom of Heaven, though as with many soundtracks, the music stands alone. I fell in love with a particular track, the one you’ll hear if you follow the link at the beginning of this post. I lost the original CD in the Czech Republic…well, it isn’t lost. It’s with Pavl: a part of me that remains there. I cannot ask him to return it. By our own agreement, I must return home in order to claim it. I rather like that agreement and what it implies. I’ve re-purchased the soundtrack (it was on sale!) and as I listened to Track #9, something of Nemaea decompressed in my mind, something plaintive. Nemaea was born in the Czech Republic, and so it is only fitting to honor both worlds with this post. (For those interested, Hathor is derived from a photograph of dirty, urban ice, and the “small” ship, seen earlier in my gallery, is the “rocket pack” belonging to a Star Wars action figure…toys and boredom often produce the best art, don’t you think? As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting, and I hope you’re all having a fantastic week.