See beauty. Build beauty. Create beauty. Serve beauty. Beauty is the secret portal to God. The rainbow path, the kaleidoscopic lens. When your eyes are opened, you see the deliberate, systemic uglyfication of our world for what it is - the single greatest sin against creation. The man who's come to know his own divinity, seen the destiny of this world (New Earth) - that man isn't a politician, nor is he a business maven. That man is a poet, a bard, a wanderer. He brings forth beauty into the world, because he knows that beauty is the portal to God. I teach simple truths in complex manners, because the complex interpretation of simple things is what the mystic uses to unlock the true depths of their meanings. Now, I will say: "Beauty is the portal to God. It is the means through which man may interface with the divine." ![[1166ab5d15484ec7fd17b4b7d894c0c4.gif]] The phoenix is a majestic beast. It does not roost in places hollow and devoid of beauty. Divine wisdom arises in the mind that has prepared an ample nest for it. Cultivate a mindscape in which even a God would find respite. And He will. ![[6b2f0f02c682c3b1996a132e9c8d69ec.gif]] When you cultivate a beautiful garden, You cultivate beauty within yourself. And if you have beauty within you, You can make anything beautiful. The [[geometry]] of one's mind always fascinated me. I realized early on that most people lived in boxes not only externally but in their minds as well. That's why they dreamt of apartments all the time. Crude, rectangular abominations that had seeped their ways into their psyches. Perhaps the destiny of one's [[Imagination]], after having gone through this plain and brutalist world, is to have sacrificed the beauty that came before it, surrendering it to just plain, ugly things. Cars, a box they call their home - all the dull imagery of this temporary realm. And, perhaps, our realm has a way of enforcing the material upon you. It has you believing that function stands piously victorious over form. Yet I, and many such as I, know this to be false. The mind that has peered beyond the veil of mediocrity knows the veil of mediocrity knows the secret of beauty. To the point where beauty becomes the primary function of a thing. Be it a symbolic representation of the grand potential of man, or a simple, more lasting tribute to the impermanence of his existence. In vision-dreams, where scarcity cannot exist - all things look different. ![[32a9a3bd0f23b1c17a0f8f6dd0e349b9.gif]] They look different, primarily, because all things are that which they can be at their highest potential. There, in one such realm - its master had built great, reflective towers, with circular pools of shallow water surrounding each one. These spanned whole horizons. And the beauty of both reveled in the reflection of one another, endlessly basking in their collective glories. When I asked why they had built this, what function they held - the answer came simpler than one would think. Beauty. Their function was beauty. Nothing more. Because, through beauty, the [[Imagination]] is enriched - and the perfect form takes shape within the mind of even the most ignorant observer. It is the pursuit of this form that unfolds the very sacred [[geometry]] of creation itself and, imperfect yet, directs us to the absolute. Only beauty exists. Only beauty is real.