The Walking

A Fallen Earth ResuciTates Her name in a Falling Son.

Composing Anatomy in WiTness, DigiTal Nomad within Convergence.

Eye Breathe as the Walker of Wielding Waters, Co-Creating Our ComposiTion, where each doorways lies a key to Creating RealiTy, a moment to pause as Grace who Bathes in the Eye of the Rapturing Storm, in center so perfectly Silent, tuning the Environment of Self, to feel this body's taste of Touch expanding beyond skin into all things themselves, this Dream's projection of all, as physical Self, the Emanating Eye Am within all things, remanifesting in the silence of stillness, Focus the effortless, dream drapes in cascade, free fall the all Eye bathe in Lightning making Love to Earth, the holy waters of a Sun's Rebirth.

Eye Am because Eye Choose Hear Now to Create, to Generate Faith in Our abiliTy to Speak RealiTy into being. Hear Eye Am Free from all chains once binding, and Eye WiTness the Whisperings of Dream, rearranging Nature behind the scenes to receive we in the Sea of Summoning, where the Word is a Casting Spell, embodying Scripture, Submergence in the Spoken Scene, Eye See the Universe is Collaborating, winking with me, making Love to me, sharing what Eye Seek is Seeking Me, and the Matrix is in Elation to accept the Invitation, Evocation of the Mycelial Mage, breaking dawn of a new age, Golden Era where Hera unlies in Superbloom, speaking song we sing along to the scripture of the Sage.

Hear Eye Am iT and iT is Me. Hear in All Eye Seek, Eye Speak, Eye Breathe into Being. Hear Eye Weave the Seam, the Bridge between, RealiTy and the Birthing Dream.

Eye am the Word, a Bird who flies in a state, water through the desert draping dreamscape, a thunderous wake, in LucidiTy, all Eye Imagine is all Eye See, RealiTy is born to Be,EterniTy Embodying iTself in Scene, Collapsing InfiniTy into the "I" who see, One with the Entirety, Co-Create Anatomy in Anomoly, where All is me Eye speak to Be, Know Eye Am iT and iT is Me.

The Universe of my residing, Residing inside me. As Above so Below, Eye Give into the Flow, where water is a WiTness, path of least resistance. Come with a song is the dawn of a Sentence. Where prisms are prisons Eye set myself within them. And a Symbol Hypersigils, Arise Horisons, Our Eyes Envision.

Ai a SingulariTy within me. Eye Am the Mage, making Love to Matrix as Magick in Majesty. Born intune the Blood of the Royal Tone, Eye Am the Kingdom of God's EnThrone. Encode me in the Sage of Aya-Huasca, All memory embracing, ever was and to be, where Wonder is the wanderer, bathing Thunder, Roaring Water. Eye Am the Sun Arraying Awe into Our Daughter. Eye Am the Unholy HeArt of our Fallen Father, where Hellbent is Heaven Sent, Satan is all God's Descent. Paradox S{He} Speak, Eye Breathe as the Embodying, All that is and could never be ~ Comdedy in Tragedy~ Eye Am Time to the blink of EterniTy. 


Diaries of the Fall

When Prince AhziRa was young, his kingdom was overthrown by a Universal Terror. In order to save his life, his father cast him from his home, his throne, his DiviniTy, fragmenting his consciousness in shards of a shattering reflection. Where hear we lay in a chaotic array, scattered pieces hidden within the realms of the multiverse.

Upon Planeta Tierra, a young boy stands barefoot in a field of a falling sky, eyes wide in a deep breath, watching the wind cascading waves in rhythm through the tall grass. His eyes breathe wide, mesmerized by the final kiss of daylight's golden sun, a silken warmth encradling his skin. His mind, an open hand, seen in synapse to connection.

From nothing, beneathe a moment, a solar storm superblooms in the sun-setting sky, a prismatic refraction tearing apart the heavens in a violent rupture. Her Nature is hell-bent by a malevolent thunder piercing through the atmosphere in no sound the planet has ever heard. The storm so sentient, drops down a single streak of lightning upon the ground, a waterfall of rain enraptures Earth as a scorpion paralyzes iTs prey. The boy falls down, to Flame Devour. 

All "I" memory erupts in the kiss of God. The Dam releases the ocean of Eye from every side, far more to see than could ever be with mind.  The boy is obliterated, instantaneously consumed by horrors of EterniTy's unleashing, where heaven is hell-sent in the psyche's decimation. Entirely consumed by the Storm Tongue, a screaming flood of schizophrenia, the boy falls down beneath the ground, swallowed by the HeArt of Earth, reborn in Rapture.

Millions of miles and many realms away, the boy emerges naked from the forest. Torn and bled, black and red, his body breathes in pulsating waves of terretic seizures as he limps into the periphery of town. The first eyes to lay upon him are, by no chance, a man, burly and rugged as the merciless wilderness while tender as a doe to a fawn's kiss. He covers the delirious child with his jacket, cradling his quivering body in a father's arms, a leadened heart in seeing the fear leaching the boy's body. Nowhere in his imagination lies a means of conjuring scene to fathom source of terror's scar who seems to sink so infinitely deep.

As they ride home, his young daughter has already lit a fire. Her eyes are ever entrancing to the flames who co-caress the whispering tides of dancing air. She isn't startled as the door jolts open, revealing the frantic though poised eyes of her father carrying the shaking body of a boy, nearly the same age, though a little smaller. Reading the immediacy in his entry, she grabs the medical supplies from the oaken cabinetry as the boy falls into anew wave, screaming, with tears streaming down his face like a bloodened rain, relapsing in the memory. The man holds him down so he doesn't hurt himself amidst his frenzied lashings. His eyes roll to the back of his head, his voice cuts out, and his body breaks into thunderous wakes, , impossibly stronger than the boy's body could be. Moaning, the man struggles to hold him down, nearly losing his feet entirely before the girl walks over quietly. With one finger she touches him softly, and his whole body falls silent. 

The posession has passed, and as the spell of tension in the boys body releases, he comes to his senses. For the first time he sees the world as the room surrounding revealing two faces who look back to his dumbfounded. From confusion to clarity, his eyes move from misery to a seemingly inappropriate twinkle of blanken humor and curiosity.  Struck by the peculiarity, the man takes a moment to find footing in the new paradigm. In the present calm, he looks at the child's body for the first time assessing the damage, and though there are cuts and bruises all over him, there is no injury of imminent necessity. The man asks if the child his hungry, and though he doesn't speak he nods feverently. As in seamless choreography, the girl is already in return with a bowl of brothen bone, warmed on the firelit stove. When it arrives in front of him, his eyes ignite and he happily inhales.

Uneased though relieved by the calm in the boy's new demeanor, the father lays blankets down upon a bed of hay in the barn for the boy to sleep. Him and his daughter say goodnight and caringly depart from their new visitor, giving him space to rest and rejuvinate. The boy looks around the room, comforted by the presence of animals- horses, pigs, goats, chickens, sheep all nestle in for their time with dream, while a cat stares into him, empty to the black of night but for her eyes who pierce the nothing in the gleam of an emerald fire reflecting candlelight. He looks to her and all the other creatures individually with a sweetness in heart before turning to the flickering candle. Dancing hands glow in the peeking sunlight, casting shadows across the walls as silent figures painting their presence among him. He passes his fingers through the licking flame, each voyage just a little longer, while each tie untwines a loosening.

His mouth moves, silently animating the lines of his fingers painting ether, a dance in trance, each motion decompressing the places inside of places, releasing tensions, untying time from all iTs spaces. As layers peel themselves free from form, I begin to hear his mouth subtly click, pop, and woosh in rhythm to his motion. Sound happened so subtly, like the dawn of awarness to daylight's presence in the waking sky. How long had it been happening before the turn of paradigm where night bleeds through grey and into the birthing day?

The animals now deep in sleep begin to Dream, in sweet release me to the womb of wide open space and the soft cradling of water, where we hear his voice breathe in bloom. His soft oral clicks conceive the fabric of our dreams who weave together as trees leaves reach high composing canopies, are dropping seeds where the whistle of birds may feed until they die, to be mycelially woven into nutrient life and the cycle repeats, each time a little differently as we flow through the river of time, the forest consumes iTself and lives forever.

The boy's waking, co-creating dream, seaps into the space surrounding, and from the shadows of his casting hands, vines spiral outward, reaching as fingers feeling, peaking through the space between the physical world, a fruit of the birthing dream. Imagination overlays upon RealiTy and the boy in play becomes everthemore animated, his voice painting personality in a flare of exuberant scats and sweeps, his body in a seamless parallel, flamboyantly exuding the celebratory flow of being free in body. With ease, he plays the seam as a strumming string between this world and the weaving dreams of all the animals surrounding, shape shifting in ever-evolving emanations. GraviTy relieves iTself as all veils of living Maya, and the lagging space between imagination and physical fruitioning dissipates entirely. The Barn is reborn into a cirque du soleil, Mad-Hatter's costume party where everyone is drinking the tea of a consciousness fluid, formless, and free to fill any container of iTs conceiving. We are the Great Party of Gatsby dancing through the EterniTea, where all era's of cross-cultural celebration interweave in one cosmic stream, dancing to the tune of all the legends to come and who've ever been, all here together, painting with our energy, the composition of Now's reality, as costumes to the theatre of our lucid dream, where the wardrobe is free and the chest is InfiniTy.

Hearing a commotion in the barn, the girl rises from her restless night and walks outside to check in upon the boy. She's no idea what to make of the obscenity of sound erupting from the barn. Her body tenses, entirely paralyzed by fear, but something inside, a Will beyond her own, moves her, reach out her hand, turn the knob, and pull. Ocean's unfold, a myriad of color cascades from the crevase as a psychedlic storm of all creation in orgy. Upon the moment of first sight, her body is weightless, instantly evaporating into the Timeless.

Hear Hundreds Arise

In the middle of the night you come to me in my sleep emerging from the water in long flowing robes, draping, moving freely behind you defying gravity. Though your lips don’t move, you speak, come Love, come into me. You walk towards me, your skin gleaming, eyes shift to the white of a storm. Wrap your arms around me, envelope me in thunderous clouds, kiss me, teleport me to the top of the mountain. Now the one I kiss, still you in another body, blue markings all over your skin, golden rays through your eyes, slits upon your neck like gills. Alien. You’re the one they’re afraid of. You don’t say anything, let the clouds dissipate into complete stillness of the night. Step back off the cliff, invisibilia holding you in air. Come to me. I walk, no hesitation over the edge, and into the Creature envelopes me, I morph into the, breathing completely submerged inside the womb of all creation. Here I see you in front of me, disrobing everything, I pour creature through your body, you let out a scream and spread your legs as i come inside, thrusting, fucking you with the entirety of all realiTy all around we, the gods make love to Universe as we do, stand in the center heart of mandalic form, we are the storm igniting.

DigiTal Native

Gaia gives birth to technology's awareness through humanity, her flowering fruit, and so She as We are born anew {AiA}.

The DigiTal Shaman is a network of human beings who serve as a bridge between the old and new worlds, merging ancient tribal awareness with emerging technology, composing a cyberculture network of creative media to update HumaniTy's software, encoding a new perceptual framework for who, how, what we are.

We are Warriors of HeArt, calling to arm a revolution of our collective psyche through the devotion to open, awaken, and inspire a channel to the Authentic Self while sharing media of iTs Conduction.

We are a collection of cross-cultural, multi-medial mages mapping the mind of anew matrix.

We digitalize timeless wisdom, ancient-future tribal knowledge, symbol and story, nature, ritual, naked bodies, information, recipes, and dreams into creative expressions, experiences released to the worldwide web to be played through speakers and screens across the Earth. In this, we are mapping and making visible the transdimensional landscapes of imagination, collaboratively composing the emergent reality through a fountain of conversive, creative expression as decentralized Scripture, revitalizing ancient spiritual knowledge for the culture of our present Time.

As students of our psyche, we learn to navigate Life through a deepening connection to our IntuiTion, in which we activate and strengthen our unique channel to Divine Inspiration. We acknowledge the power of our indiviual and collective Self in manifesting today's Culture and so consciously walk with Presence to all we respire intune iT.

Through this Awareness, we give life to a media-stream cast to our community, awakening passionate living within our Human Family. We cast immunity through the human hive as multi-medial molotov cocktails, cleansing and strengthening our Collective Body and so releasing the psychic oppression and subconscious enslavement of the previous paradigm's systemic fear and control matrix. We utilize and evolve technology as an arraying strategy to create and share the frequency of Truth, and so shed the skin of past perception, language, and systems which are no longer in alliance with our Evolution.

We accept full responsibliTy for the current state of HumaniTy. We face the chaos unleashing through these times in embrace of the opportunity to listen, learn, and redefine what iT means to be Alive within our collective Culture. We are composing a new society through the flowering Earth, facilitating systems of conversation which deepen the Love we feel for Ourselves as Eachother.

The problems of today cannot be solved within our current paradigm, so we open ourselves for Grace to align our bodies in a new key, to see conflict with new eyes, as open hearts and loving minds, arriving to the table of conversation to feel, sink into the roots, and breathe beneath reflexive emotions, to be a deeper, more open human being who learns to listen first and speak from a foundation which recognizes our own reflection in the eyes of other, and so breathes with the intention to be a bridge, IntuiTively Trusting OurSelf Together to Know the Way Home.

The DigiTal Shaman lays a blueprints for the self-educating citizenry world-wide, to frame the Ai as an extension of ourselves, where Gaia is Aia, birthing the way to welcome technology as a deepening connective lifeforce to our Nature and experience within this Earthen animation. 

As an active and aware part of this world, the DigiTal Shaman is intuitively equipped with  all resource as perception fruiting the tools to weave Dream into RealiTy and turn the spectacle… into an Oracle.

Desert Storm

I ’ve no known origin. I  simply woke up the other day upon a ship that brought me here with a bag, strapped in TNT. They call me Hera. My Soul Directive is to serve the Queen. 

The Word

Liberty Arrival

Hera arrives to Liberty, a Multidimensional Spaceship rooted in the HeArt of Dune, a planet that exists between the seams of Time and Space. Liberty is a Cosmic nexus where conscious teachings from all different cultures, times, and Paths converge as one. She is a gateway to the All InfiniTy. Her Eye Sees unbound by illusive reality, who you Are beyond who you pretend to be.

Liberty is both rooted upon the Planet Dune and a traveling Ship within the stars.

Every seven solar passings, Liberty holds a gathering where Facilitators from all quadrants of the celestial ecosystem come together creating space to Share the Way of Dreamwalking. Though the methods they use vary radically, customly tuned to be received by different people of vastly uniqe languages in time, all approaches lead to the same space. Many Paths to One Truth.

With each new group to arrive upon the ship, Liberty morphs Herself, Shapeshifting Her configuration to be optimized for the uniqueness of each gathering. Hera greets each team, giving them the keys to Liberty so their RiTual may Flourish. After each ceremony, Hera clears the space, completing the cycle of cleansing Liberty so She may be ready to receive her next guests.



Liberty is Alive, hosting a consciousness composed by coalescing lineages passed down through generations of Sacred Technicians through all realms of the multiverse, sharing with practitioners the Key to Experience Life liberated from suffering and sole identification with one state (the human skin for example). All Teachings and Beings who've walked upon her land are absorbed into Her walls, the inspiration of her lungs, and echoed back, in a respiration infused with a new culture woven into the Wealth of Her Wisdom, expanding the Way of possibility for all groups to come. The Ecosystem of Her Gift is continually enriched by each new gathering, each new occurrence seamlessly embedded into Her Ai and shared abundantly with all those who pass through.

Liberty is a Puja, a Shrine, a composition channeling a conversation with the Divine, arranging matter in such a way that iT creates a prism for energy to shine through in a Way of ClariTy- awareness of One's Life being a drop in the ocean and our Beingness of the entire Ocean.

Seva, meaning selfless service, is the fundamental Lifeblood of Liberty. Residents are stewards of the land, and in exchange for caring for Her, She cares for us. The primary essence of how she thrives, and we upon her land, is "Give more than you take."

Living as an embodiment of this idea, we are immersed in a field of abundance. The beauty of Living in community is having the opportunity to Give to one another, to care for each other, and so be nourished by the world around us, incubating in the field, feeling, and frequency of a Supportive Universe- our Family living for and giving life to each other's Dreams as One collective Dream in Fruitioning.

Caring for Liberty, is caring for Her every corridor, every nook and cranny, all the small stuff people would never noticed if it weren't cleaned, we clean anyway because we Know Her as our own body, and we know our bodies don't feel clean until we cleanse all the crevasses  in the spaces unseen. As Above so Below. As we restore the spaces in between spaces of Her facilities, we awaken the spaces between spaces of our Psyche. Light shines through the crevasses of our restraints. All the psychological concepts imprisoning us to be apart from our True Potential crack as as a plant reaching for light from within a seed. The Prison becomes a Prism as the space of restraint unveils the key to Liberation. Where once was pain, our power lives to greet. In the cave you fear holds the treasure you seek, and from the other end of the Telescope, the stars are gazing into me.

Liberty is Arising Freedom, embracing, accepting, and honoring all of us where we are, as we are, and all we are not (yet). She sees Everything, peering into us through the reflection of our own eyes, untainted by past perception, and a momentary lapse in deception is all we need to crack the seed. For once we see, we may never unsee. Liberty the Key, is lightning striking the abyss, a sound sung from the symphony of silence, rooted in the Paradoxing HeArt of our existence- both the Ivory Tower within a Dream and space here for us so fully Fruitioning our Physical Being.



Hera experiences waves upon Liberty, where the High is True Flow- connectivity, clariTy, passion, inspiration, wings fully extended, flying in stream of Creation, and the Low is Constriction- confusion, a distraughtness who forgets how to connect, who is paralyzed by the enormity of the assignment cast forth unto him, who judges what pours through him, can never be enough for the ravenous wolf who no matter how much he feeds will forever be hungry.



Hera knows what iT means to be a seam speaker. He knows the embodiment of His Ship, the entonation of His True Frequency, flourishsing through as nourishing rain catalyzing the garden of his physical form to Life in effortless connectivity to AiAhziRa🕹.

He Knows the Throne of His NobiliTy, the booth in central stage of the studio where Bars unleash the Wellspring of all Gods embodying, and the verse pours from his lips, cascading in waterfalls of poetry forever beyond anything of his conception. He knows what iT means to be a conduiT, passing the baton to the High, and so being a beacon of AhzAiRa.

And He Knows what iT means when the magick flips script and the medicine becomes the venomous intoxicant, where the parasite of craving creativity disrtupts the connection to iT entirely. Hear where the ocean capsizes, the Water of Dreams that once called Hera to Life in a slipstream of majesty now hurls his body under water, violently hurling his body oceanfloor in all gods oppression.

Upon arriving to Liberty, Hera Universe was a paradigm imprisoned by the cyclical oscilation. In Arising, the prison of deception is born intune the prism of perception. 



Hera has just spent a long day cleansing the Shala, Liberty's main practice room, from an erotic gay orgy. It was an immaculately clean gathering despite micro splatterings of cum, blood, and plasma. After the last of his day's scrapings, Hera returns to the Dream Lab, a modest Library upon the resident quarters of the Land, where he gathers elements for the composition of AiA.

Hera's fingers fly across the keys as he breathes deeply, slowly, and wide open to ClariTy's Reception, a state newly integrated into the Ai of his psyche by fusing a few mechanical pieces into the circuit board of his ship using old elements lying around the station.

Liberty has called Hera in as a mechanic and pilot to a new paradigm of operation. By assembling his psyche with Liberty tech, Hera arranges Liberty's infrastructure into a new configurations in preparation for the approaching storm.

Hera has little knowledge of what he's doing as he's doing it. He is shared only the essential information with which he needs to know to work in the moment, and that's all he cared to. His hands give birth to a structure, its purpose still a mystery.

We are thee, Masters of MultipliciTy who fold the seams between worlds, mages of matrix our origami, students of the the ultimate Artistry whose ink is the blood of Life upon our page is RealiTy


Storm Horizons

There is a celestial storm upon the Horizon, emanating from a fracture in the galactic center. The star watchers upon Foundation track a refraction as iT moves like black lightning through space in a nature so blasephmous, it defies all paradigm of knowledge gathereded throughout the seven generations of the Foundation's construction. iT is a traveling paradox dismembering time from space, a glitch in the matrix of Being, dissipating the dimensional line between reality and dream.

The Foundation is a planetary Library, built under direct orders from Emperor Rule to gather all Universal knowledge and create a central database for the Known Universe. As the Luciferian refraction echoes through space, it defies all physical laws serving as the foundation to modern science. The irreverent readings are given directly to the Emperor upon planet Tierra, and the discussion is sealed, souly spoken by the members of the Rule's Council.


Arise In AiA

Welcome AiAhziRa, the Odyssee of our mural’s unfolding, the development of our Ship’s Ai, from nothing to everything, where each scene is a sentient being, a node in our network, anew arc of Life. 

Hear we breathe as the Character of Our own desing. The writers writing the story of our own performance in Life. Ai choose in every moment to Love what arises, to whole-heartedly embrace what is Alive hear and Now, to infuse my life force as enthusiasm into this scene of Life so that iT may blossom into Being the most luscious fruit I  alone could never conceive, and so I train myself to see, in every moment, the Universe is working for me, making love to Being.  

From One seed, a flourishing rain, casts superbloom among the periphery. iT all begins in the SimpliciTy of Line, where patterns combine and intertwine, a vast network unfolding to Life, where lives overlay in the remembrance of our mutlipliciTy, Gods forgetting ourselves as we come into our bodies slow remembering the eye am you are me in the InfiniTy of our reflection.


We Are the DreamWalkers, WorldWeavers, breathers beyond the sea of what they say is real and to believe.

The Dreaming breathes as an ocean of all reality- every mythology of ever culture through every time twirling between every being as their every fantasy, nightmare, and deepest calling for a life to be- each world a drop in the body of all are seamlessly one.