The Nameless Bride
(by Lady Svetlana)
Priestess:
"Under the mystichord or mystichood of Nameless Bride, we grope in Her Sacred Darkness for plasmatic encounter, the fifth ionised state of matter. Our mundane sight of differentiation and separation recedes into the magical Abyss of Blackness where all is touch. We feel each other as tactile presences whose extended dimension stretches to the stars only to coalesce beyond galactic expanses in the white and wormholes of Her ever spiralling Gown of Worlds beyond Worlds. Let us feel Her concrescence as we stroke each unique form in the unfathomable dimensions of Her perfect formfulness – ever-changing, ever–new, ever-variable in the rainbow myriads of infinite spasms of delight."

To celebrants:

"Feel and touch… feel and touch. Know thy siblings with carnal pleasure, with Epicurean delight and Pneumatic gratification… In the quiet, silence speaks with soundless Music of the Spheres. In the Unseen, alchemical distillations of aromas from globules of Selves form a multipetalled scent. In the stillness, taste-buds vibrate to unknown mysterious flavours. When light is absorbed into the cosmic Womb sight turns inward to uncoil enchanting visions of the numinous Nymph.

Let us experience Synesthesia of the Senses in Her Holy Name, unutterable save in ejaculations of ecstasy – the aahs and oohs of the Singularity Bridge between universes –
AAH – OOH… ARRETOS KURA iii… iii…iii."
Silence followed by bullroarer or jingle of bells.

Priestess:
"Remember black absorbs all colours; white reflects all of them.
As I remove the epiplema of merging field cohesion let your eyes remain closed and feel your proprioceptive being stand, unique and apart, yet linked by invisible strands to the Great Transcendent Unique of Nameless Maiden.
Evi – iii Kura-a-a-a!”
The celebrants are led to the vestibule.

Celebrants:
"You twirl toward the galactic centre where She whirls in boundless joy."
Each celebrant is twirled around till he/she ends up at the entrance to the Sacred Mirror Chamber.
The music stops.

This small Temple is filled with incense and there is one candle nearby. One can partially use a small room for this.

Priestess:
Chants in excited shamanistic voice.
"ARRETOS KURA-PANTA ESTI
KAI PANTA ESTI
ME – ESTI – SU – KATA - TI"
She repeats the same with quivering voice, on her knees; stooping down; and high pitches the same while flutter her arms before her.

Priestess:
“From the paracosm or Hyperboria
emanates the macrocosm or Hypoboria
the mesocosm or Atlantis
and the microcosm or Psycheia
As above, so below.”
She shakes her sistrum or rain stick.

Each Initiate is led into the Mirror Room one at a time. As she/he stands before the triple mirror she/he is shown the infinite visions of her- or himself.

Priestess:
“Look into the mirror
and behold the infinite progression of reincarnated selves
together at the present moment of dreamtime,
all reincarnations beheld simultaneously,
Blessings of Magic Maiden upon thee.
Please return to the Corridor of Time.”
Afterwards they are lead back to the hearth room.

Priestess:
“You have entered the Plane beyond Time into Plerodor and have passed the Singularity Bridge and the Event Horizon into worlds unknown. Let us see what more this realm has to offer.”

White ‘singing bowl’ is played.





Unrealities of Her Image
(by Lady Svetlana)
Priestess:
(Text from Arthur Rimbaud)
“L’étoile a pleuré rose au coeur de tes oreilles
L’infini roulé blanc de ta nuque à tes reins
La mer a perlé rousse a tes mammes vermeilles
Et l’Homme saigné noir à ton flanc souverain.”
Priest:
(Translation from Arthur Rimbaud)
“The star wept pink in the heart of your ears
The infinite rolled white from the nape of your neck to your breasts
The sea rippled russet to your rosy nipples
And man bled black in your sovereign womb.”






In Adoration of Arretos Koura
(by Lady Svetlana)
Priestess:
"Are You the Nameless One of joys unbounded, of happiness without limit? Of pleasure almost endurable? Are You She who is beyond time, beyond space, yet who unfolds temporal, tempestuous songs throughout eternity from silver lips hidden behind the snowy vistas of matter, motionless and still? May I address You frontally without being taken by Your light absorptive velvet tresses that seem abysmally opaque to my contractile eye / I.

No, at this pin-prick point of existence, I can only quest from clouded intuition; from feelings dimmed – yet heavy, diminished, yet sharp; from a body jaded, without vigour; faded, without exclamation – but without repose.

Yet, I seek… I search… I stand in awe. Sheeee!!! She is the Mystery Bride of all souls. In Her Body all uniquenesses intertwine and intercept without losing identity of essence, of individual substance, of peculiar distillation… She is the symphony of scents galore, of tastes superabundant. She fills all universes with effervescent tunes and tingling soulfulness. ‘La Belle Dame sans Merci’ – from whom all sympathy emerges and all empathy flows forth. In the dim light of dawn? or dusk? On the shores of a bottomless lake – there floats a swan – black? or white? Someone with a flowing coiffure – raven coiled? or golden curled? walks on the flesh-smooth beach… through the mist. I follow… I see her, she turns the corner – I run to grasp her – She has disappeared. She always disappears – The illusive quick of being.

Last year we met somewhere. Or was it yesterday? Or eons ago? Perhaps, I only dreamed it. maybe the meeting is yet to be….

She is here; but is She?"
On a small table the following are placed on black cloth: 1 tiny horse, 1 white glove, 1 (white) rose, 1 mirror, 1 silver key, 1 beautiful perfume bottle & 1 small crystal.






Le Fête Cosmique
(by Lady Svetlana)
Priestess:
" "Attention – Messieurs – Dames – Attention.
Elle ici – Pour vous

Le Cheval – magnifique, you chose wisdom through all portals of all worlds.

Le Gant – you put on the glove and instantly found elsewhere.

La Rose – you hold out the silver rose and love radiates everywhere.

La Mirroire – you look into the mirror and see your true self beyond death.

Le Clé – you open the door and witness other dimensions.

Le Parfum – you inhale a magnificent odour and the essence of the cosmos wafts toward you.

Le Crystal – you feel the vibrant and consecrated energy of potential life and rejoice.

C’est fini – mes chères – c’est fini."





Transformations
(by Lady Svetlana)

Priestess:
(Text from Stefan George)
“Auf einem stahernen Wagen wo Lavaschollen dich tragen
Und grill lohe Wolken dich facheln hernieder tauche –
Mit wildem Lacheln und sengendem Hauche…”
Priest:
(Translation from Stefan George)
“Long after jubilant death is the Sun forgotten.
The boisterous waves tumble against the planks and muffled thunder storms roll
On a silver chariot where lava blocks bear you
And lurid clouds fan you, come down –
With a wild smile and scorching breath!”





Noire et Blanche
(by Lady Svetlana)
Priestess:
”Je suis noire et blanche. Je suis Mademoiselle Mystique ou Damoiselle Cosmique. Je Me trouve seule. Je suis de toutes parts. Je suis pomme. Je suis pomme de terre. Je suis fleur de mal. Je suis la grande passion et la grande illusion… Je t’aime – Je vous aime – mais non, très impossible… Au revoir… Au revoir pour ‘L’éternité’.

I am the grand illusion. I speak no tongue. I know nothing for I am everything. I laugh because you suffer. I gave, yes, I gave freedom and you chose suffering. I dance upon your torture. I thrill to the breaking of your heart. Yet, I adore you, but I have no feeling. Sing, sing to me though I cannot hear. Come, come to me though I am not there. Why do you hesitate? The mouth of the Behemoth can consume you all.

Chantez, chantez – dancez, dancez. Pour moi? Pourquoi? Parce-que je suis la Belle et le Bête. Venez…. Venez…. Here are the magic words…. Le gant, la rose, le clé, la mirroire, le parfum….. Va, va, va…. Magnifique – va. Go to the Centre. Seek the Truth. Solve the puzzle of the Sphinx – Ha!!! Behind the countless Veils of Salomé, there are the innumerable beheaded mirages receding into the looking glass infinities. Les têtes de Jokaanahan…. I shall baptize you with the Waters of Remembrance even though you seek the wine of forgetfulness.

I have created Dionysos to drown your sorrow only to bring forth Prometheus to give you the fire of inspiration.

Where are you? Are you still there? 'Wherever you are, you are in the Centre', said Alice. I am the Centre. – I am the purple aroma, the violet viola, the lavender longing. But it does not matter for there is no matter. There is only the Great Feast – La Grande Cuisine…. I love caviar with Dom Perignon. J’aime La Torte du Grand Marnier et Le Gateau à La Chartreuse… I am speaking nonsense to the cryptic music of Debussy, Ravèl, Satie – etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Eluard are My fingertips.

I bid you adieu, but I will hide behind your ear. Harken to the play of atoms… Mais je fume une cigarette…. Let us burst the balloon and begin."

Music: ‘Three Pieces in the Form of a Pear’ by Eric Satie or Claude Debussy.






La Cosmique
(by Lady Svetlana)
Priestess:
“Celebrants, please sit on the floor in an ellipse.”

Priestess as Megeia steps into the ellipse; She explains that each person shall kiss to the left and then to the right per directions.

Priestess:
“In Her tumultuous Name all kiss ‘a gauche’.”
All kiss to the left.

““In Her serene Name all kiss ‘ a droit’.”
All kiss to the right.

“All turn outward in Honour of Arretos Kura – the quintessential raisin in the cosmic pudding. Think of how your bodies in fusion form the great body of holy earth in nebulous space and time.”

All turn inward.

“Please make yourself comfortable and listen to a short explanation of the preceding ceremony.”

Priestess:
“From the cryptic womb of Feraferia came a ritual for Repose and Cosmos – a seventh trans-seasonal Festival of the Kore - Core of the Universe – a feast of transgalactic import – a celebration of transcendence through the veiled Beauty of Arretos Kura – the Nameless Bride who unwinds endless profusion of realities and outpourings of innumerable dimensions of space and time through unfathomable vistas of the mind.

To be more philosophically exact and less poetically opaque this ‘fête cosmique’ celebrates existence beyond the round of death and rebirth as we know it on this planet plainly here and now. At the centre of this understanding is a paradox for the point is here and there and everywhere, yet always beyond grasp. It is the Eternal Moment of Mystic Revelation.

It is the Ultimate Beatitude – the glorious instant of loving knowingness. Yet it is a Cosmic Dance so, as it becomes more awesome, it also translates into joviality. Tensions built up by Mystery whether by surreal or spiritual experience and released by orgasm – profane or sacred – must yet yield to the most incomprehensible soul-shattering wonder of all – the Laughter of the Gods.

In one sense our Mystic Maiden is a mythopeoic conceptualisation of a two-sided experience – ineffable awe, and tongue-in-cheek play. Profound cool seriousness and light-hearted gaiety. She is the raisin in the cosmic pudding – a bubble in champagne – one diamond in a mine of bituminous coal… She is all things to all beings yet She is only one. She creates everything yet She is nowhere. She is the universal centrality yet She has no real centre. She is thus addressed by Feraferia.

Everything that is and everything that is not still is
because of Thy certain something always strangely elsewhere.”




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