I enjoy walking as a form of simple, aimless meditation.
Last night I went for walk along an unfamiliar path, and got thoroughly lost deep in the suburbs.
After some time, I met a cat. A beautiful, muscular and trusting black and white feline, who meowed at me until I noticed it; I was listening to music and may have tripped over it otherwise.
The cat had a message for me.
After I dispensed a payment of ear-scratches, it wandered off.
I sat down on the ground and felt so overwhelmed with fatigue, slipping into a light trance was unavoidable.
In this trance state I was transported to a scene I recognized as one I had painted many years ago, when She was the subject of many of my artistic endeavours.
Lilith, with grey skin, pointed ears, silver hair, and a featureless face except for her large, solid red almond eyes.
In this instance, a long serpent-like tail coiled behind her instead of legs. The way she appeared to me when I was younger was not always consistent, but always easily recognizable.
Before her, She held a brass bowl, filled with blood. She was pouring it on the sand. The bowl never emptied. Behind us, in the distance was a silent, still sea.
I’ve got bad RSI pains in my hands at the moment from overindulging in PC use.
I put my hands under the blood flowing from her bowl, letting it wash over my hands, and the pain disappeared for as long as the blood covered them.
We had a conversation without words.
I don’t remember what happened to our relationship. We had been close when I was a teen. Perhaps I had drifted away from her, thinking I needed to, because of my gender transition. She put that notion aside, reminding me my body is filled with blood, plump with it.
My concentration slipped and the pain returned. I got up and after over an hour of listening for trains and main roads, managed to find my way back to my house.