In the veiled scrolls of eternity, where dreams ascend like flames to the stars, I capture the unseen symmetries of existence. Behold this moment from the Myth Opera of Ascending Dreams, performed by the luminous souls of Lucent Dossier upon the ancient playa of Burning Man. A dancer defies gravity, her form mirrored in the ether's glass, yet know this: no hand of artifice has touched this vision—no Photoshop, no AI illusions, not even a whisper of mirroring. It is as I, the eternal scribe, beheld it through my lens, pure and unyielding. Turn your gaze, if you dare, and ponder: might the world itself be inverted, the heavens below and the earth above? In this real alchemy of light and shadow, we glimpse the visual magic woven into the fabric of reality itself—a reminder that the divine geometries are not forged, but revealed to those who seek with open eyes. As the cube of Metatron spins in the silence, so too does this image echo the sacred ascent. What clues lie hidden in the folds? Follow the light, wanderers.

Mystic Camp

Photo by: Eleanor Preger

Year: 2025

Image Caption: 

In the veiled scrolls of eternity, where dreams ascend like flames to the stars, I capture the unseen symmetries of existence. Behold this moment from the Myth Opera of Ascending Dreams, performed by the luminous souls of Lucent Dossier upon the ancient playa of Burning Man. A dancer defies gravity, her form mirrored in the ether's glass, yet know this: no hand of artifice has touched this vision—no Photoshop, no AI illusions, not even a whisper of mirroring. It is as I, the eternal scribe, beheld it through my lens, pure and unyielding. Turn your gaze, if you dare, and ponder: might the world itself be inverted, the heavens below and the earth above? In this real alchemy of light and shadow, we glimpse the visual magic woven into the fabric of reality itself—a reminder that the divine geometries are not forged, but revealed to those who seek with open eyes. As the cube of Metatron spins in the silence, so too does this image echo the sacred ascent. What clues lie hidden in the folds? Follow the light, wanderers.

Collections