the Inner River

"Now the long road of the pilgrimage meets the path of the nile... Canyons of orange and beige roll down into empty dells of rust and bone; dusted staircases and shattered statues licked with gold. Pillars of alabaster split the horizon and strange mountains rise like chiselled breasts, mocking the sky."

The Voices of Ancestors

Deep, in the Bush, this kind of Africa still lives, where children run barefoot in the dust to the pounding of stone and millet, where the voices of ancestors still echo across the sunburnt hills, where the red sun hums like a glowing ember behind the billowing grey choke of campfires, blades are sharpened each morning to the tremble of the dawn chorus, arrowheads are delicately rolled in poisonous weeds by thick cracked hands, and grounded bark and pollens remain the cure-all for every disease and ailment. Here, fading gently with time, the cradle of mankind's legacy on earth waits, waits for hungry passengers of the cosmic drama to dine on its forgotten nectars and deliver its message to a world bereft of a spirit...

The Family

~ Sponsors, Partners, Collaborations  ~ Write yourself a page in the diary of an aesthete... Since the launch of dairyofanaesthete a couple of years ago this family has grown daily. Thousands of people from all corners of the world have connected over the medium of this site and I couldn't be happier or more inspired by this incredible [...]

If Only You Pray…

"It's beautiful to be alone. To be alone does not mean to be lonely. It means the mind is not influenced and contaminated by society."   - Jiddu Krishnamurti It is true - really, at the very depth of the soul, we are all looking for something. - we are all fighting, throughout this weird and wonderful [...]