Mirrors

I love mirrors.

Not for gazing at myself. That, for me, is merely a utilitarian function with results not that often pleasing; but rather, because of the manner in which they multiply space, in which they play with dimensions and with which they toy with the imagination.

I love the infinity effect of mirrors that stare into each other’s souls; the way they bend space permitting me to gaze around corners, the way they so closely reflect an inverted reality.

When my first two sons were very. very young, I introduced them to their reflections, Iknob and Xela; we had a wonderfully large tub in the master bathroom and it was surrounded on two sides by mirrored walls, and I taught them to interact with their reflections there. Rubadubdub, three men in a tub, interacting with three others on another shore. Silly? Perhaps. But mirrors do that to you, or at least they do that to me.

Mirrors remind me of memories in the process of crystallization and why not, crystal mirrors ought to be very special things, perhaps related to crystal balls, although firmly anchored in the present. I wonder if they are really linked, cousins perhaps but more likely lineal descendants like great grandfathers and great granddaughters.

Mirrors, agates comprised of the melding of time and space, mysterious playgrounds for the Ka and the Soul.
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