MYCELIADE

MYCELIADE

And when without a companion
I set out once more upon my own road,
I came to know a sorrow within me,
a sorrow immeasurably vast and never silent!
[The Twelve Lays of the Gypsy ] Kostis Palamas

Myceliade is the eternal journey of stillness, the living passage that unites time with eternity as it spreads everywhere, forever. For mushrooms bind the world together, weaving, hidden from the sun, deep within the earth, a spiral of many wreaths and countless orbits, forming a labyrinth in which fate fractures into thousands of possibilities. And while, beneath the sun, Phanis electrifies all beings with light, in the darkness, Metis composes the Nomadic Code that unites the universe.
For Mycelium is the very network of the fungus’s fine filaments, joining together into a web that embraces the Earth. In the same way, art—which is nothing other than the worship of creation—carries the age-old message of peace into the world, uniting peoples beneath the surface. In dance and intoxication, identity dissolves and the world merges into a new organism that reconstitutes Dionysus: an Orphic and Romani traveller, religiously in love, comes and goes, is born and dies, rises again and is celebrated.
Love, sowing and harvest, song and reenactment,
disguise and ritual, roles and transformations,
expand thought through a sensual understanding,
a communication beyond reason, an initiation.
Nomadically, we trace our paths through dance, searching for the Platonic passage out. And as the circular dance becomes a spiral, a portal emerges at its centre, leading to transition.
In theatre, roles change hands along with their bearers, as different dramas are lived together, transculturally and across time.
Poetry annihilates the commodity, music transforms the cry into song, and painting turns blood into colour. True art is Holy Communion itself; only true art contains love, through which it may arrive at Healing.
Drama purifies; celebration and catharsis permeate the body with the frequencies of other worlds. Adorned, mourning becomes a shared memory that comes alive and participates alongside the beloved ghosts.
When the revelry fades and, remembrance through intoxication, subsides, empathy becomes a space-time of its own, nourished by the union and resonance of intertwined frequencies.
Underground the roots join into a common web that embraces the Earth, which has room for us all. Mouldering and electric, the human fungus will travel in spirals from darkness to light. And when blinded, now by one, now by the other, Memory, through art, will dictate its steps.
And as the dancer holds the Past in the right hand and the Future in the left,
they will come to understand
that they themselves are
the eternal Present.

Lydia Venieri
Mykonos, September 2026