It was early in the morning when I saw them in my garden, next to the red Japanese bridge. It was easy to recognise them. They were my Byzantines, Michael and Gabriel, both lithe and sophisticated, both androgynous and young, as befits the eternal and sexless incorporeals, somewhat stern and reserved in attitude as Byzantines can be. The taller, Michael, had a red cape as is customary; the rest of his attire was medieval military- a chest-plate, skirt and bandaged soft boots. His sword was sizeable, though smaller than Excalibur. Being a Prince of Archangels, his demeanour was noble and somewhat lofty. Not only is he a Taxiarchos or the Supreme Commander of Heavenly Armies, he also weighs our souls when we die, and it is his judgement that decides whether we go to Heaven or Hell. Hence, he is often depicted with scales and is a Patron saint of cemeteries. Gabriel gave the impression of being the more amicable and serene of the two, robed mostly in verdant hues and holding a lily in his right hand. After all, he is the Prince of Messengers, the Bringer of Good Tidings to Mary, the initial Great News in Christianity. On icons and most frescoes, he is depicted holding a lily but when he comes to Mary to tell her she is to leave this world, Gabriel is holding a twig from Paradise. He is the Patron saint of Telegraph, Telephone and Telecommunications. “Shalom” was my address to them, to which they politely responded: “Peace to you to, Brother Michael”. It needs to be mentioned at this point that I call my garden “The Garden of Forking Paths” and the bridge, “The Bridge over troubled water”… The pair seemingly only superficially glanced at me but I knew they were seeing through to my soul and my whole life from the very beginning. Then Archangel Michael asked: “Do you know that my name means ‘Who is like unto God, or Godlike’ ”? “Indeed”, said I, being aware of the fact. “We are namesakes. Do you think you deserve the name you were given when you were born on the day of Archangel Michael in the old Serbian Orthodox calendar?” “Most surely not, my imperfection is breathtaking”, I replied, trying to sound not too disingenuous. “Your only path to the Redemption is your icon painting which is improving, despite your age. See what you can achieve, iconographer, and how long you still have, to reach the Illusion of Fullness.” “Oh, I am just an old, stubborn man”, was my retort. “That’s is Ghandi’s line, so don’t be corny with me. I hear you are a purist”? (This sounded as if I am suffering from some terrible, incurable and unseemly disease). “Well, I don’t know”… “I’ll tell you something, iconographer, and trust my eons of experience: IF THE WATER IS TOO PURE, YOU CAN’T DRINK IT!” The statement was both bewildering and most liberating for I have been trying for years to change something within but did not know exactly what. “Thank you, oh, wise Archangel”. “What are you working on now?” asked Gabriel. “As a matter of fact I am to start a body of work on the Annunciation, so you will feature in a number of my future icons”. “ Has Fra Angelico’s Gabriel been to visit you yet? He has the most dazzling wings of all archangels ever painted…” “No, not yet, but he is expected as are a few others from the West”. “Have you painted Archangel Rafael as yet?” “Only as one of the three angels with you two, as in the Synaxis of Archangels. As you know, he has been depicted much more in the West. His name means ‘The healing of God’. I am looking forward to meeting up with him and asking him some questions. I intend to paint him as done in an Islamic miniature centuries ago”. “What about Uriel, whose name means ‘The Light of God’? Shall I see him soon?”, I asked. “Well,” responded Michael. “Uriel comes only when the darkness descends upon all humanity. Then he appears and brings the Light of God. Lumen Christi.” “It is fine that you named your garden after a Jorge Luis Borges story, but you have to rename the bridge. Forget about the Bridge Over Troubled Water, this is the Bridge Between East and West and your kismet is to walk that path until you are full of days. We know that you had wept in Ghent after seeing the polyptych of the Mystic Lamb in St Bavon’s Cathedral when you were 23 years of age. Use your remaining time on this earth to create an ‘Illusion of Fullness’ which would make another weep in the future, in front of your work”. He said that with firmness and belief. And then, I saw the wavering cloud of golden dust disappearing above my garden bridge… Michael Galovic, Aug 2021