Stuart France writes at:https://franceandvincent.com/
Category Archives: alchemy
Holy Scions…
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Given that we were now checking out the ‘Michael Line’,
One might have expected some sort of ‘Angelic Support’…
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But even by our standards,
The send off assumed ridiculous proportions…
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It also offered unexpected vindication
for our speculations in the ‘Doomsday Trilogy’…
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A ‘Glastonbury Thorn’.
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DOOMSDAY
The Aetheling Thing Dark Sage Scions of Albion
All books available via Amazon in Paperback and for Kindle
Don and Wen, following the breadcrumb trail of arcane lore and ancient knowledge, scattered across the landscape of time, turn their attention to the myths and legends of Old Albion. They delve into the tales of King Arthur, asking some very strange questions about biblical family trees and exploring the many stories that abound in the very landscape of Avalon. Meanwhile, in Derbyshire, the voices of the past still whisper from the stones, opening a passage through time, place and memory to another world…
Doomsday: The Ætheling Thing
How is it possible to hide such a story… the hidden history of Christianity in Britain? Oh, there are legends of course… old tales… Yet what if there was truth in them? What was it that gave these blessed isles such a special place in the minds of our forefathers? There are some things you are not taught in Sunday School. From the stone circles of the north to the Isle of Avalon, Don and Wen follow the breadcrumbs of history and forgotten lore to uncover a secret veiled in plain sight.
Doomsday: Dark Sage
…. something was spawned up on the moor… something black that flew on dark wings. It heeds not time or place… but it seems to have developed a penchant for the travels of Don and Wen….
“Are those two still at it?”
“Apparently….”
Doomsday: Scions of Albion
Things are getting serious…
Exactly what is Wen doing with that crowbar and why is she wearing a balaclava?
All will be revealed…or will it?
Follow the story begun in The Initiate and the Triad of Albion,
as Don and Wen explore the ancient land.
Alder-Ley…
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A rift in the bed-rock
Makes us wonder
Just what is destined to emerge…
A poisonous fume
Or the trailing plumes
Of a Sun-Bird?
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Fairy Thorn…
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… Just then there is a flurry of wings, and squawks and screeches overhead and we turn our attention skyward in time to see an enormous buzzard chasing off two ravens from the precincts of Uffington Castle.
“Oh, Don look!”Cries Wen, “the hawk of the morning has chased the shadows of the night away.”
As if on cue a sky lark flies up from the ‘fairy thorn’ with as an incongruous a cacophony of song as you are ever likely to hear in such a setting…
As the ravens fly into black specks and disappear in the mist another buzzard glides into view and we watch the two mighty birds soar on the up-draught for awhile as if spiralling around some unseen cone of power.
It certainly feels like we have been accepted into something although I am not quite sure what.
I make a mental note to look up the origins of the phrase, ‘…the Heart of Albion’…
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The acrid smoke hung heavy in the night air.
They would feast tonight.
But for now she plaited the strands of horsehair from the white mane.
A gift from the gods she would treasure…
A blessing as she shared the meat roasting in the pit on the plateau.
The flames cast a dull glow across the faces of the clans.
They were expectant, eager yet solemn.
They were waiting…
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THE INITIATE
Book One of the Triad of Albion
Stuart France & Sue Vincent
The Initiate is the story of a journey beyond the realms of our accustomed normality.
It is a true story told in a fictional manner. In just such a way did the Bards of old hide in the legends and deeds of folk heroes, those deeper truths for those ‘with eyes to see and ears to hear’.
Don and Wen, two founding members of a new Esoteric School, meet to explore an ancient sacred site, as a prelude to the School’s opening event. The new School is to be based upon a nine-fold system and operate under the aegis of the Horus Hawk.
The trip does not unfold as planned.
Instead, Don and Wen, guided by the birds, find themselves embarking upon a journey that will lead them through a maze of spiritual symbolism, to magical mysteries and the shadowy figure of the Ninth Knight.
As the veils thin and waver, time shifts and the present is peopled with shadowy figures of the past, weaving their tales through a quest for understanding and opening wide the doors of perception…
Now available via Amazon worldwide.
Paperback UK Kindle UK Paperback Amazon.com Kindle Amazon.com
Callings…
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It is entirely possible that this ‘fella’ once stood in a ‘circle’.
He now guards a lay-by in an unassuming stretch of Dartmoor,
if such a thing can be said to exist.
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Nearby, stands a ‘wayside cross’ which may not be a cross at all.
It may be a ‘hammer’ or a ‘thunder-bolt’.
It may even be a sign post…
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We posit such querulous notions
only because the landscape
again appeared to be offering us ‘clues’.
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And shortly after this impromptu stop,
the Dragon’s Breath completely whited us out…
We may have to go back again.
Given III…
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“The problem with ‘religious art’ is that whenever you start to enthuse about it people put you down as ‘God Squad’.”
“And then impose their own conception of ‘God’ on you.”
“Which is usually a hideously naive one.”
“I’d be happier with ‘Spirit Squad’.”
“‘The spirit moves where it listeth’.”
“And cannot be tied down by any religious organisation.”
“Saint Michael isn’t a particularly Christain saint, he has his origin in Hebraic magic as an archangel.”
“The notion of sanctifiying an already holy entity is a curious one. Sanctification would normally only be appropriate for a human being.”
“It’s what might be termed an unholy error of hubris, perhaps, and has for it’s champion the ‘Vox populi’.”
“Which in itself is no bad thing.”
“It is not, though, the only mistake people make. They continually objectify when they should subjectify.”
“And they continually subjectify when they should objectify.”
“The depiction of Saint Michael subduing a dragon does not actually refer to any future or past time ‘out there’, but to an inner state which can be achieved by any and all. When it is achieved the ‘out there’ becomes irreversibly changed, for the better.”
“Which might even be described as something of a revelation.”
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The Rock of Brentor…
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‘…A church, full bleak, and weather beaten, all alone, as it were forsaken…’
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“St Michael de Rupe?”
“St Michael the Rock.”
“I thought St Peter was supposed to be the ‘Rock’?”
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“The rock referred to here, is volcanic.”
“Nice.”
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“Though you would never know it now…”
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“…The church-tower can still serve as a beacon.”
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“Curioser and curioser…”
“Wait till we get inside, Alice.”
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A Day’s walk?…
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…”The why, is always the same.”
“In order to connect, or to make whole?”
“And in order to then participate in that wholeness.”
“Which is connection.”
“They call Glastonbury England’s ‘holiest erthe’.”
“Perhaps that is why?”
“Today, we look up to the night sky, and wonder, and dream of perfection.”
“Or, at least, some of us do.”
“Perhaps, there was a time when, at certain junctures in the sacred year, to participate in that perfection was just a days walk away?”
Adoration of the One?…
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“It is a curious attribute of the Chain of Being, that it allowed every class to excel, ‘after its own heart’.”
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“Stones may be considered ‘lowly’ but they ‘trump’ the class above them, plants, in both strength and durability.”
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“Plants, in their turn, though regarded as without ‘sense’, excel all other classes in their ability to harness and store, for nourishment, the energy of the sun.
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“The ‘brute beasts’ possess greater physical strength than man and a ‘purer desire of the heart’, and man himself, being imperfect in the realms of knowledge, excels even the angels in his aptitude for learning.”
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Only the angels, by virtue of their own special gift, the faculty of devotion, can never claim to go beyond the ‘class of being’ that stands above them.
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Something fishy in Glastonbury…
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‘It doesn’t feel like we’re in England. It feels like we’re in France or something.’
No idea why France in particular except, perhaps, that my memories of that country shimmer with light and heat, and the sun was beating down that day.
Such days, in an English summer, are still rare and may be that, to my mind, made the place suitably ‘other’?
How habitual it is to rationalise.
Almost second nature, as if one nature were not more than enough!
We were in Glastonbury for a symposium, a weekend of alternative lectures and radical thinking…
We ‘knew nothing’ of the vesica then even though we had read Michell’s ‘…View…’ some years before.
‘It’s like any book. Some things stick. Some things don’t.’
We knew, though, that we would be returning to Glastonbury and there was no rationalising that away.
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‘In the landscape round Glastonbury Abbey can be found a clear exposition of the former practice of sacred geometry…
A circle with radius one furlong passes through the Old Market Cross, the Abbey fish pond and the town’s Catholic church and defines with its circumference the outer limits of St John’s church and the old Abbey house.
Another similar circle centred on the Catholic church encloses the church of St Benedict and also passes through the Market Cross and the fish pond.
The two parish churches, 1000 feet apart, are now placed symmetrically within the two circles. The centre of the vesica thus formed by these two circles falls on the Abbey Almonry, the centre of charity, and one of its sides can be seen to mark the building line of houses in Magdalene Street.
Thus, the town of Glastonbury lies below the interlinked circles of a vesica piscis, the basic figure of sacred geometry.’
John Michell – The View over Atlantis
Stuart France 
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