‘Within the soundproofed walls, the candles knew the truth. This wasn’t nirvana. It was a building in the grimy backlands of Clapham Junction station. In the yoga studio all was hushed, but the candle flames stirred to agitated vibration as a train passed. Delicate instruments, shivering to an influence none of us could hear or feel.’
Opening paragraph, My Memories of a Future Life.
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More glimpses
- Hell and sky – designing the cover
- Reincarnation – our expression of the unexplained
- Strange rebellions – pain
- The blood-red piano: music as spiritual possession
Thank you, Bonnie Schupp Photography at IstockPhoto, for the red piano
My Memories of a Future Life 