And lastly…
I told you Luke and Biggs were more than friends.

Once a legitimate blog. Now just a collection of memes 'n menz.
The Erechtheion (or Erechtheum) is an ancient Greek temple constructed on the acropolis of Athens between 421 and 406 BCE in the Golden Age of the city in order to house the ancient wooden cult statue of Athena and generally glorify the great city at the height of its power and influence. The Erechtheion has suffered a troubled history of misuse and neglect, but with its prominent position above the city and porch of six Caryatids, it remains one of the most distinctive buildings from antiquity.
Much like temples of Ramesses II at Abu Simbel in Egypt, the Erechtheion has resonated with me from the moment I first saw pictures of it in sixth grade.

When I stumbled across an article documenting the modern day relocation of the Abu Simbel temples in an issue of National Geographic in the late sixties, I repeatedly asked my mom when we’d been there. Of course, she replied that we’d never been to Egypt, yet I distinctly remembered having been in that place at some point.
I have no such “I’ve been there” feeling regarding the Erechtheion, but I am in absolute awe of the beauty of the building, and like I wrote, it just resonates.
Proof of past lives? Maybe, but probably not, because the one thing I do believe is that if reincarnation is real, considering the vastness of the universe and the billions of undoubtedly inhabited worlds out there, it doesn’t make any sense whatsoever to be forced to live out multiple lives on this single rock we currently call home. That would imply there’s something inherently special about this planet—and human beings themselves—that I feel entirely unwarranted as it puts us back as the medieval “center of the universe” thing.
Via Sickoricko, I saw this…
And it immediately reminded me of a painting I’d done back in…1986 (?)…of something that came to me in a meditation:
Not exactly the same thing, but similar enough that it reminded me of the vehicle in my painting.
I was standing on the deck of an ancient Egyptian sailing vessel—in the middle of the Mediterranean, mind you—when this flying craft appeared on the horizon and flew directly toward the boat, only a hundred or so feet above my head. It was so close I could see the pilot waving to me.
I have absolutely no idea what ever happened to this painting…or at this point most of my pre-portraiture work.