Alexis G.
Alchemist, Bacteria Barrista
K41 Alchemical Experiment
The Archaics:
K- Magic
41- Alchemy
Question No.82
Alchemist, Bacteria Barrista
K41 Alchemical Experiment
The Archaics:
K- Magic
41- Alchemy
Question No.82
what kind of
ALCHEMICAL EXPERIMENT
would rF be?
ALCHEMICAL EXPERIMENT
would rF be?
THE REMONTANT FURY - Alexis Goertz - Alchemical Experiment
Every week is a season. 52. Here i am in season 39. The hawthorn berries hang bright red on the side of the path. To me and the birds they scream to be picked. To other passerbyers who don't know, its just a message to the birds and a reminder of cooler days to come. I hungrily pick them. Not to eat. Not now. But more alchemistic experiments for future enjoyment. My hat, the momentary vessel, is full. I take them to the lake to wash them off and enjoy their full shape glistening in the late summer sunset before i crush them to allow the alchemy take place. In another vessel they are crushed between my fingers, some one by one, others, as my patience decreases in clusters in a fist. Coming back to my reflecting: one by one again. Hawthorn, the heart opener. The berries holding the seeds of the next generation. The fruit to sustain the current other. And here I collect to transform. Not out of greed but out of appreciation of the capabilities and symbiosis of what is possible when two work together. Or many. The berries themselves, my hands working them and the microbes fulfilling their duty.
Water is added and the vessel is stirred. A cloth on top to allow the breath of my environment to enter. Placed in an obvious spot where it will not be forgotten, but rather greeted multiple times in a day with a stir. Hello there. Need some attention? Sure thing. Eventually to give back gifts in return. A symbiosis. The transformation is not yet complete. After half a season the mixture is talking. Bubbling and fizzing. Stir. stir. Stir. hello there. Welcome second life! Stir stir stir. A full season, the mixture is in full swing.
Between the moments or stirring, many projects are underway and I am reminded by the dark discolouring of my finger tips and the black under my nails that it is harvest time. Season 40. 41. 42 to come. Walnut shells tan my hands. Uncovering roots, rhizomes and tubers leave imprints under my nails. I look forward to processing and transforming all that I have gathered. My bubbling hawthorn berries in a jar shows me that there is transformation underway. It will take at least 6 more seasons for it to be complete. It bubbles with fervor. Life! Underway. An acidification. The berries heart opening power is transferred to the liquid, where it will be strained, and allowed to sit on its own. As it develops and ripes independently of my work. But I have my eyes of appreciation still focused there. A cellulose will eventually grow on top. A mother. Then it will ripen to Vinegar. The powers of the hawthorn are preserved. For the next seasons to come. Vorfreude.