Through the grapevine

At the time of harvest the carriers are striding down the path, carrying baskets full of grapes. A boy walks among them with a lyre singing the linos, the song of lamentation.

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Ariadne gave him a ball of thread, and Theseus unrolled it as he penetrated the labyrinth.

First stage of the Alchemical process: the Nigredo.

Vineyards have always been planted in spaces of transition.

Along the path, taking up one’s cross.

Unwinding the thread, so that he could find his way back again.

Underground materials unearthed and gathered to the surface.

In Medieval times, vineyards enclosures, were reminiscent of the hortus conclusus, a space of divine unity and attribute of the Virgin Mary.

Daedalus laid out the design, and confused the clues to direction, and led the eye into a tortuous maze, by the windings of alternating paths.

Food for the soul.

Every labyrinth has its minotaur.

I feel like the earth, astonished at fragrance borne in the air, made pregnant with mystery from a drop of rain.
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