– The first thing in the morning that Elizabeth does when she wakes up, is to come down from her tower into the garden, greet elementals and dance with flowers that gently caress her skin until she truly wakes up. It’s like a good morning kiss from Mother Earth.
The wizards say: “Life begins when you have a garden.”
Before she makes a green vegetable smoothie from all the delicacies that she finds in her garden, a few raspberries fall into her mouth. Or cherries. Or plums. Before official breakfast, she talks with Alan Watts. Richard, that’s your only competition, she told me when I came to see her. Talking with Alan can last for hours. If Elizabeth is in the mood she will hang out for a little while with a silver machine which is connected to our collective mind and peripheral consciousness called the internet. If not, she will make something, since every day is a day for creation. After all, each day we ourselves create. When she starts wanting a new company, she goes to the room underneath the stairs (like in Harry Potter) to see if the wizard is awake. She always knocks on the door.
What she usually finds is Richard (it’s still me, and who am I is always the question?) who always lingers between two worlds, between reality and dream. I have to tell you that wizards are in fact very shy and that they only come out in public on special occasions when they feel their help is necessary. In this case, one wizard was seeking another, somehow no one else could be her friend or partner. Who else could understand why she lights a fire when it’s summer solstice, and why she grows all those plants, why she likes all those bottles and potions, why the house is surrounded by wisteria and so cleverly hidden from all outside views, why she always knows what’s about to happen, why it only… well, you get it – it takes one to know one.
Elizabeth then prepares breakfast for herself and Richard (it’s still me, and who am I but her reflection) which then becomes a long talk over coffee. Tarot cards are being opened, planetary vibrations are calculated, and the newest magical advice is being interchanged. Between cookies, they discuss the very nature of existence. Smoke in the rook carries wisdom into the world and into the consciousness of an ordinary man. Sparks of inspirations come to the writer and to the scientist so that our humanity could evolve little by little. This all happens in her very lively library in which Buddha sits and angles dance. If Nikola Tesla had a body today, he would come by this place for an afternoon coffee. In the living room, the clock is always showing six, which is the best possible time. Whether it’s in the morning or in the evening, it always contains that magical atmosphere between sunlight and darkness. Somewhere in between. Six is also the number of beauty, art, and love.
Cats and bats walk and fly around the house, and occasionally I have a feeling that the house itself is floating above the ground. The only thing keeping it from flying off is a giant hand, that is a branch of wisteria plant which surrounds the entire balcony and walls of this magical fortress. And so, in between heaven and earth, in between stars and the moon, resides Elizabeth with her hat and broom. –
– I’m going to kill you over this hat and broom thing, Richard! How can you end such a beautiful story with that? I’m reading all of this out loud, my spirits dampening at the end. – Write something else as well, don’t be so stingy with words and feelings.
– I read something regarding the relationship between Leo and Scorpio, and it’s a non-stop drama, magnetic pull, who’s going to dominate, who’s going to be the one controlling the other – he is telling me, and I am just realizing he is dealing without a relationship. According to him, we are just getting to know one another. I, on the other, being guided by feelings, by recognition, by the idea that I I know everything from before, and that I merely remembering. That’s why I don’t understand such resistance, nor a period of introduction. Either you feel something or you don’t. And since I already recognized him, there isn’t a force in the world that could pull me away in another direction, not even an occasional scorpion’s sting.
– Don’t disturb a sleeping lion, and enjoy while I’m treating you as a King. I thought we were above that – I tell him.
After all, my position is royal.
Eh, it’s not easy getting rid of this person.
A person in Greek means a mask, all your life you are trying to become a real person or rather a genuine fake. And this whole concept of person, name and surname, our obsession with identity, celebrity culture where you are no one unless you’re someone in the media… I usually get responses from readers who have recognized me, whether in books or in my columns, journalists ask me how it’s possible that someone should share so much of their lives, and I wonder isn’t that something that every artist does, sharing themselves – not by taking pieces of themselves, but by letting the light through. That light turns on a light in others, and that’s how, one by one, we get starry dust and the stars above us. We are all made of stars.
Someone thinks they know everything about me, but they only know a person named Elizabeth Gandhi, but who am I really? Without all that. The first thing that came to Richard’s mind was to write The Secret Life Of Elizabeth Gandhi. My cute little Scorpio, he thinks I have a secret life, the way he would if he was in my place. However, I’m not into manipulation, once you discover how wonderful it is to be who you are, no more and no less, all the games stop being fun. You don’t want to hear about them, let alone participate in them.
– But I don’t have a secret life. More or less, I’ve written about everything, maybe I cross some people over, or give them some superhero attributes, men in particular, but the essence is there. Sure, we live on a ranch, indeed, your name is Richard, and we met in India… That is, we recognized each other.
Our mutual acquaintances told me about twin flames, which is more than soul-mates, giving me goosebumps. Even when we fight we are unable to separate from one another, and neither one of us has an explanation for why we do what we do… That’s simply how it is. It’s the most natural thing in the world.
And now, Your Majesty, what would You like to eat today?
In our case, food is love.