219. The mirror spoke

Conflicted about direction

Which way to go?

Did a drawing this morning. This morning was a slow one. I woke up at four, drank tea with milk and stayed in bed, sitting with the backing of the couch’s pillow, and the meditation cushion supporting my head. I listened to Rupert Spira talking for a few minutes about how, after awakening, the allure of material, things, disappears. Then it was close to seven and I did everything of the mornings and ate. And here, at this table, I laid my head on my hands and rested again. It is amazing to me how tired I can be, that even after a good night sleep, which I did not have for so many years, I can be so tired still.

Now I have the new watercolor drawing in front of me and I think: Let’s see what is in it.

I can see density, as if it describes stones or packages that somehow got connected to each other in groups. Now we have a few clumps. The way the clumps relate to each other as a group of clumps, as a composition, gives a feeling of an effort. What is the effort? Maybe it is to stay together, while every one of them wants to go somewhere else. This is where the tension comes from.

There is one unfinished piece and it gives the effect of something that was left undone, unfinished. And maybe this effect creates another one, of something that happened in a haste. This whole group of clumps detached itself, or even better, tore itself away from something bigger and found itself free, but conflicted about where to go now. Now that they have freedom, what do they want to do with it?

And before, when I looked at the drawing and did not yet let the words come and tell me this story, the drawing looked like a stranger. How did it come here? What does it have to do with me?

And here we are now. The mirror spoke at last.

218. The knowledge that does not fit in the shape.

Inner sound

Hearing the sound

The knowledge that does not fit in the shape

Requires a mouth that is shut for now

The joy of expanding

Like children in a school break

Running out to the yard

Is like an eye that is open to the ocean

The face that will not be intact any more

Collapses because of an ear that hears the eternal sound

A hair that flies in the wind is left

From the static posture that breaks open.

217. A slight movement of an eyebrow

What is hiding in the forms?

The tilted, hidden story

At first I thought this was going to be a boring drawing with no emotions, no story and nothing happens. As I worked on it, it felt almost like a drawing that came from thinking.

But it didn’t. I find it interesting now. It has a story. The story is whispered. Boiled down to the essence, the story is about real, beautiful, sweet and loving life, hidden in forms. The forms would seem to limit the life, but they can’t. Everything sings. It dances in the air, like the people and cows in paintings by Chagall. It whispers slight differences of colors and shapes. It completes itself as a composition, which is an expression of non-physical relations, involvements and collaborations. It could be called: The hidden joy of inner music.

If it were a person, it would just stand there, well dressed and quiet. But you would notice a very slight movement of an eyebrow and you’ll understand everything.

216. The story point of view and the energy point of view

The influence of the wind.

The left and the right.

There is some discrepancy between the right side and the left side of the picture. The left is loose and hardly organized. It looks like something that is falling apart. The right is better organized, but it is losing some of its order by the pressure and movement that come from the left.

The right is filled with interesting things that try hard to hold on to their shapes. The left looks as if it used to have shapes too, but with the movement, no good form is left in it.

What does it mean?

From the point of view of the story of life, this painting may depict a traumatic and frightening event.

From energy point of view it is just the process of change. In the end of it, maybe there will appear new forms that will be better adjusted for swift movement? And it is also possible that after this movement the forms will disappear all together and there will only be a peaceful sea of energy, in which some things appear and disappear.

The forms are the story.

The sea is the ground of all.

So what do they think about the wind?

From the story point of view it is what brings a disaster.

From energy point of view it is how freedom manifests.

215. A bird came

A bird came

A bird came

For a while animals have been sneaking into my drawings. My drawings were supposed to be abstract but the animals insisted. And now this bird came. I know what it means. A children’s book wants to come into my world.

214. The rebellion in the neck

An unsettled, settled man.

Contemplating head, stormy body and a rebellious neck

If this is a person, then his head looks as if it is planning something. But when you go down to the body, you find it quite emotional. My sense of structure cried out for some stability and this is why the pencil frames appeared, as building blocks that provide some stable interpretation of what is too raw and unplanned. In spite of the frames being so light, the emotions pay respect to them, and they do not go far away from the frames. Or you can say that the frames were sensitive to the rawness of the emotions and framed them only lightly.

In the neck, the free expression of the emotions has to change, so that the lower part can create a connection with the thinking mode of the head. And it is here that some rebellion happens (in blue). The emotions do not want to convert themselves into logic

What do you wish for this man?

That love will be the arranger of the expression of his life and its uniqueness.

And this whole picture explains why it is a bit hard for this person to speak right now. Voice comes from the neck, doesn’t it?

213. The person I could be

Many times I told the story to amazed friends: When you are born in Israel, the manliest man from your family hangs an army helmet 6 feet above the ground in your room, and you have to grow into it.

Of course it is not true.

But in a symbolic way it is true. You are expected to be brave, to become a soldier, to be tough on the outside and soft inside. You won’t show fear or too much sorrow when you face the war and its results, and somehow you will manage to keep a beautiful sensitivity that is very hard to detect, but your wife and good friends will know that it is there. In the right moments it will show up. Every person who was born in Israel is, in a way that enforces this image, called a “Tzabar,” which means a cactus fruit. There are thorns on the outside and it is very sweet inside.

And on May 22nd this man appeared in my art. This is the portrait of the man I almost became.

The person I could be

The man I almost became

This is what I wrote:

Bearded, unshaved, quick to anger. A lot of bitterness born out of tough life. Always suspicious and expecting trouble. Very close to nature, to open sky, to the earth and to the plants. Hard working, used to sweat and to having sore muscles. Will read poetry again after all the fights are settled, which means that he will never read poetry again. He will quote from memory one poem that he will remember before his death.

Come to the funeral.

You can also see a human being who is awake and buried in piles of debris. You can see his sensitivity showing from under the piles. He has a rich variety of responses to all experiences. It is this sensitivity and the many protective responses that created the debris. Now he is planted in a piece of land and protecting every inch of it. The horses go to work every morning, the sweat is pouring. Once a year he cries. In the rest of the days he only changes colors.


I know I have never been this man. But the command to be one was kept somewhere in my subconscious. I escaped the helmet just before I hit it (and remained a little short as a result). Now I am okay with the image’s departure.

Good bye old friend.

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The healing process

Entries 1-58 show how I use the method of Intuition Through Art to heal myself from Peripheral Neuropathy.


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