§ “The clock is a tyrant; a dead metaphor for a living place, whose ‘gears’ have eyes and hearts, dreams… powers… and souls. The living place is never ‘mechanical’ in its temporality or expressions… it is musical, divine… profound beyond all possible mechanism. Its face is the universe and its hands and ‘degrees’ are the life phases and relations of living lineages in mutual evolutionary communion. It is… adoration. A living door. At the boundary. To the Great Between. A door at ion.”

— an anonymous informant