Archive for the 'evolving' Category

393. The filter

This time I won’t write a poem, but a description .

At first, when I drew, I thought that the lines represented the pain that I experienced, Relentless and continuous.
Then they looked like rain.
And in the end they started to look like trees without leaves, shivering in the cold.

Behind the lines there is a landscape.

The lines are like a filter that you have to pass, if you want to go beyond. You can get caught in the filter and you will suffer pain, rain, cold and longing for leaves.

But you can also pass gently, carefully, sensitively, through the spaces between the lines, and then you will find yourself in the place where it is beautiful.

This, in a way, is the essence of spiritual practice.

You can’t eliminate all the obstructions in your personal filter. Usually there are too many of them. But you can teach yourself how to pass in the spaces among them, to arrive at where there is beauty, love, playfulness and joy. The air from the landscape is already here.

And when your practice is through making art, you are already half way there.

392. Dream

It used to be a mountain
Full of rocks
And now it is a dream
That dreams itself
To be.

391. To the sun

The poem describes a trip from left to right in the picture.

I am running rhythmically
Down a tree covered hill
Becoming breathless suddenly
As I see the omen in the air.

The landscape sends me
Through the fields
Toward a tree that welcomes me
Into a spot
from which I’ll have to leap
Across the empty sky
To meet the sun
That hides behind a cloud.

And I wonder:
How will I make the leap
after having lost my name?

387. Disappearing

I am disappearing
In my room
Gray light is coming
From the window
My lungs are still breathing
Sky
My heart is still beating
Red and green
Broken as I am
I still remember earth.

385. Higher

Higher

In the view of the long line
I lived many times
And I was many people
On a chain
Made of light

If you look
From the place
With no time
You’ll see
That nothing ever happened

and yet
The sun keeps rising
Higher and higher.

384. A visit with August Moon

I brought my attention to the heart, which is the heart of all.

The sun started to shine from the heart. The energy of it started to grow all around me as a balloon.

I made myself comfortable inside of it. 

I counted slowly to ten and the balloon disconnected from where it was and started to fly, without my control.

I came to a big door and looked at it.

I had a key in my hand and I observed the key.

I placed the key in the key-hole and opened the door.

I went in.

Beyond the door, there was a beautiful landscape, like one of those that sometimes come to me on their own.

There was a stick on the ground and I took it in my hand.

I drew with it another door in the air. I drew a handle on the door

I thought for a moment what I wanted to find on the other side.

It was August Moon. I wanted to meet with August Moon.

I drew on the front of the door an interpretation of him. It was a little bit like the drawing that I have here next to me, on the door of the closet. Many lines in the air.

I went to my heart and brought out my feelings about him.

I put them in the drawing and spent some time looking at the energy of my lines.

I opened the door and went in.

August was all the air around me and had no end in all directions. There was nothing to see, and yet I knew that he was there.

I felt my love to him and his love to me.

A question came to me: Why am I here, in my life, in America, with Anita, with all the people that are in my life, and with all the things that I know? What is the purpose of my being here?

You are here to see how beautiful everything is, and to love everything, was the answer.

August, I said, I don’t want to be alone.

You are the most together that anybody can be, was the answer.

It was time to leave.

I turned around and walked back through the drawn doorway. 

I was in the balloon of energy. 

I counted back from ten to one and came back to my body.

I breathed and felt my body. I looked around at all the objects in my room.

I knew that I am always with August. He is inside of the undefinable me, and I am inside of undefinable him.

383. As I am

As I am

From the ground of all
I yearned to move.
Many excitements allured me.

I moved
And this inventive act
Has made the man with the thousand faces.

Some faces cry
While others laugh.
I took to watching all of them.

And seeing that they always change
I found
That I am the unchanging.

Among the many faces and allures
I am the simple joy
Of being as I am.

380. A chord

The earth
Displays
All that grow
And live on it
Like a chord
That is played
In silence.

378. Maybe and maybe not?

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377. A man with a beard and a bird

A man with a beard and a bird

It is a mystery
That’s made of nothing
And yet it works

Looking with no eyes
You’ll find
It’s made of
Blocks of dreams
And colors
That are open
To no end.

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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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