To Her Inexpugnable Majesty and Unutterable Grace,
Pierrina Andritsi
The awesome and awful love that erupted me, her clueless 'Adonis' 
(o d epeita qewn iothti kai aish
aqanath parelekto qea brotoV, ou safa eidwV), English into experiences uncharted in the postmodern world, a forlorn passion that left me in some not altogether comforting company: 

Purple haze all in my brain
Lately things just don't seem the same
Actin' funny, but I don't know why
'Scuse me while I kiss the sky

Purple haze all around
Don't know if I'm comin' up or down
Am I happy or in misery?
What ever it is, that girl put a spell on me

Help me, Help me
Oh, no, no

Purple haze all in my eyes, uhh
Don't know if its day or night
You got me blowin', blowin' my mind
Is it tomorrow, or just the end of time?

Ooo, help me
Ahh, yea-yeah, purple haze, yeah
Oh, no ... help me
Tell me baby, tell me
I can't go on like this
You're makin' me blow my mind...mama
No... its painful, baby

and sent me scurrying to the Greek Classics for a map that at least had something to do with the territory.

caire, anasV, h tiV makarwn tade dwmaq ikaneiV,

ArtemiV h Lhtw he cruseh Afrodith

h QemiV hugenhV he glaukwpiV Aqhnh,

h pou tiV Cari twn deur hluqeV, aite qeoisi

pasin etairizousi kai aqanatoi kaleonatai,

h tiV Numfawn, ait alsea kala nemontai

h Numfwn, ai kalon oroV tode naietaousi

kai phgaV potamwn, kai pisea poihenta. English

When first I confessed my overwhelming, incontrovertible, hopelessly impassioned love, her reaction left me rather at a disadvantage: "I love you a little bit." I still wonder what she meant. I don't suppose it really matters in that I remain surrendered to the service of her Beauty and Grace anyway. Sigh...

Over the years I have had dozens of dreams in search of Pierrina. Occasionally I have found her as happened once in Java where she appeared glowing blue and white, so pure, so beautiful, there were no words at all. I asked my guru, Suwondo, about the dream and he said: "She will be a great ally when you return to the West." Considering transference, countertransference and the endless tangles of deep bonding brings to mind her initial oracular scold in 1970: "I've been looking for you!" Well, you've found me, and now I'm here looking for you. Anybody home?

Later, from 1981 to 1983, about three times a week I would awaken in her unspeakable grace, and, deeply pleased to be within her beatific presence, would lie quiet as if witnessing dew on a rose. I am a language teacher and every once in a while a unit would come up which asked a series of questions like, "What is your favorite movie?" "Who is the most beautiful woman in the world?" I always knew the answer to that one and would sometimes show a picture to prove it.

In Java she might be called a Sang Retna and a Lara Djonggrang or in ancient Egypt a Nefer, meaning beauty that so stuns that you draw back and find yourself looking upward in viewing her grace, as if saying, "Excuse me, miss, but aren't you far more beautiful or at least taller than you look somehow?", and feeling a need to genuflect.





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