What Kore remembers of the ascent to the surface is difficult to narrate. It is a preverbal story. A concatenation of sensations and synesthesia. The first thing was the body against the earth, the hands digging into the wet clay walls. The mud under the nails. With the same earth from which he managed to escape, he set about making objects that reminded him of something he had never actually seen.  Like a song that sounded like the first song of all, the one that no one has ever heard, but that sleeps in the collective unconscious.

Just before he fled, he swallowed a pomegranate seed. Once on Earth, it hatched inside him and a voice rang in his head, uttering words for the first time:

"When you look around you will see the things of the world waiting formally at the grasp of your hand. Arranged side by side, they are actually being crushed downward by the hand of an invisible force, which rules over all things. You can rearrange them and you can play at dropping them. There is little more you can do with them. From this limitation will be born your frustration, from which will be born the desire to destroy. It will be the same desire that will lead you to think of pushing the person waiting next to you on the platform onto the train tracks. Who would also fall pushed by the hand of this same invisible force. The idea that in reality it was yours who pushed her will be only an illusion".

Frightened by these words and fleeing from this destructive principle, Kore began to build clay objects in which she could take refuge. She remembered this shelter even if she had never seen it. From time to time the same voice would speak again, and Kore learned, many ages later, that this voice was called thought:

"As you approach a piece of mud you may experience desires to crush it, to dig your fingers into it. The mud under your fingernails. To hit it with a fist. They are all desires that will be born in your body, prior to the words with which you will later name them. If you manage to stay in the desire without naming, you will begin to build for real".

When you approach a piece of clay and begin to work with it, it will be at the level of the core. Newly arrived on Earth, Kore's was an unstable being, in an even more unstable body. So she decided to cultivate herself in the art of waiting. Quietly. In silence. Trying to listen to the voice that never said anything, behind that voice they later called thought.

Thus it was that on the least expected day, from the most erratic part of her body, the right side of her pelvis, basic universal forms that had always lived there began to sprout. With enough drive and desire, she began to channel them out of herself.  A dance every evening, where she let the forms be, without naming them. Cautious that words and thought did not usurp the place that rightfully belonged to the things of the world. Not allowing the description to wear the disguise of the things themselves.

After this feat the world would remember her forever as Persephone, archetype for the unnamable. Mythology to adhere to when there are no words of this world to say.

To live life in a mythological way means to surrender to certain basic universal forms and to a preverbal existence, where the sense of touch pushes aside the borders and demarcations of what we have been told, peeling the truth like a fruit.