|The Hall of Bulls at Lascaux, France.|
Photo by Sisse Brimberg, National Geographic.
Bulls and horses and stags wrap around the curved walls and ceilings; walls and ceilings which enclose you as in a womb (or a skull). Dim lights flicker over the uneven surfaces, animating the animals. And you're there, standing in the middle of a prehistoric dream; yourself a character being dreamed by a Paleolithic hunter or shaman or midwife. Time means nothing. Seventeen thousand years slip away and you are also the dreamer.
And you stand there in recognition, knowing that the dreamer/painter and your self are one soul. Your humanity responds to his or her humanity; your divinity to his or her divinity.