The Compass That Points South
Date: 9 August 2025
Mood: Reflective, Rooted, Quietly Awakened
I’ve been shaping a logo—something to mark my work with intention. Not just a graphic, but a seal. A symbol. A compass.
Most compass roses point north. That’s the tradition. North is the way forward, the direction of clarity, the assumed “right.” But in my world, the compass points south.
South is descent.
South is memory.
South is the spiral into Sheol.
I’ve come to realize that my brand isn’t about elevation—it’s about excavation. I don’t write to lift readers out of their lives. I write to guide them inward. Downward. Into the terrain of grief, transformation, and ancestral echo.
This logo I’m crafting—a compass rose with a nautilus spiral at its center—isn’t just a design. It’s a ritual. The spiral speaks of memory, of sacred geometry, of stories layered like sediment. The compass rose is the guide. And the southward point? That’s the invitation.
To descend is not to fall.
To descend is to remember.
To descend is to awaken.
Branding, I’ve learned, is not just about visibility. It’s about emotional truth. And truth, for me, doesn’t live on the surface. It lives in the depths.
So I mark my work with a compass that points south.
Because that’s where the story begins.
Let the ink fall like ash,
let the spiral draw breath.
I do not write to rise—
I write to remember.
To descend is to listen
where silence keeps the flame.
