Crossing London Bridge, walking over a river of dreams guided by joy itself; waiting until moonrise to safely paint a hermaphrodite Christ with a crown of horns and wounds. Making man woman, trying to cut hair, to castrate, to look at the self as someone who has traditions of iconography and psychedelic experiences to draw on. Originality wishes to fork and branch like lightning or the world tree. The tremor of fear which one senses in the approach to something sacred alchemically dissolves in the experience of the sacred.