Archive for the 'Inner light' Category

295. A meditation

FullSizeRender 4

Night is coming to the desert

In the fading light

Animals show up

In a hurry

As if their working day

Begins

Legs and tails

Sharp little teeth

Soon it is hard to tell

If they aren’t really

Thorny bushes

Folds of earth

Or empty rivulets

Waiting for the floods

That may or may not come

This year

 

Then the stars

Open their eyes of innocence

Quietly

Pouring down on us

The essence

That we are.

 

Now:

Who

Do

You

Want

To

Listen

To

?

Advertisements

294. And there we are

FullSizeRender 3

What happens here?

It looks there is wind, coming from the right and everything that we see is effected.

It is a strong wind. Little things are being blown away to the left.

If the wind goes on like this for a longer time, what are we going to be left with?

Maybe some branches will break?

Maybe the light green figure will run away? Or, will it stay all the way to the end, to see how everything else has disappeared?

The empty space will seem devoid of things to look at.

So the figure will eventually give up on trying to see physical things.

With nothing in its environment, the figure too will have no reality. With the impossibility of a contrast, how can anything be?

Aren’t we creatures of contrast?

We say: This is I and this is you or this is the world. But without a world, who are we?

And there is that grey shape that may look as if it is the thought of the figure. As I was painting it and as I had gotten to this point, something from inside of me stopped me. Enough said, it told me without words. Don’t add any more.

So the grey shape remained unfinished, as if there was no point any more in believing in what we thought was real.

When the figure’s last thought stopped before it became full, when the belief in thought and the reality stopped, what was left?

Try it out.

There is a power that makes everything be, and it comes from our thoughts. You feel it in your guts.

In time it also blows everything away. Then the last thought is never completed.

And there we are.

290. Who needs a subject?

Birdman

I finished it yesterday and wrote a mistaken date, as you can find in the signature. It should be 050418.

I started it in the night that lead to the forth. I came off bed where I did not sleep and sat down to do a drawing.

The colors will come in the day, I thought. This is indeed what happened.

I had a feeling about how I wanted the language of the painting be. It was a pleasant feeling, like a feeling that I used to get when I would be on my way to the swimming pool, already imagining the sensation of water touching my body everywhere.

I want to write about this language.

But first, it seems there is some form that is being depicted in the picture. Maybe it is some sort of a big man with a bird’s head. Whatever it is, it is made of a flimsy structure of moving lines that hold a strange gathering of soft, mostly translucent shapes.

These shapes of colors; what holds them in place? Are they confined? It does not seem so. It looks as if these shapes can move away and be free of the drawing. Some pieces do radiate away.

Do they want to be together? Maybe their behavior has nothing to do with wanting? Maybe this is just what they do when they are in certain circumstances?

All these details are told with the language of the artwork. You can say, maybe, that the language and the story that is being told cannot be separated.

Just like in any language, when the language and what it describes cannot be separated, the whole thing becomes a poem. Or maybe, since this is a visual art piece, maybe we can say that it gives the feeling of something true. If we experience this feeling, we tend to like the painting and usually it is hard, if at all possible for us, to explain why we like it. The whole experience belongs in a different realm than the one we usually describe successfully with a language.

But is this at all possible to describe any experience in a language?

This is why for some of us the language of numbers feels more capable of describing phenomena or experiences. If it is three, then it is three and nothing else. At least we know this. But do we?

Maybe this is good enough for now, for this discussion?

I want to aim the light of our thinking onto the use of the visual language. I think that the language shares more information than the content.

So the lines here seem as if they are not sure where they are going. They try and fail to describe something. But in their failure, a feeling is created that something is there. We are not sure what exactly the lines do. Do they try to describe a shape, or do they describe the quivering of the energies as they move through the form? Is it a living form, because there is energy moving through it?

How does the form feel? Does it want to be there? Is it wondering about itself and its environment?

Is it just trying to be filled with enough being, so it can experience everything around and in it?

And as such, does it matter at all what the form is? It is a wanting to experience. This is enough.

And let’s take the colored forms.

They come together as different units of being, made of what? Maybe too made of wanting to know or wanting to experience? They touch each other and overlap, where they mix with each other. They accompany the quivering curious delineated shape of lines and they interact with it too.

And all the parts, the lines and the shapes, are free in their nature. They don’t have to be there. They have just come together as a strange occurrence, involving all kinds of being, stories and feelings, out of their common curiosity.

Are they focused on the inner world, so to speak, or the outward one? It seems that there is nothing really substantial in their gathering. Nothing is heavily real in both the inner and the outer world that they create. Only deep, rolling, playing interest in what can be made up and be experienced.

But since there is nothing very substantial in that coming together of these suggestive, wondering lines and the friendly mixing together color shapes, then who is experiencing anyway?

You see? All of this is given or shared through the language of this art.

Who needs a subject then?

Well, we need a subject for this coming together and experiencing. But it is never as substantive as we make it to be in our thoughts.

Think about it if you wish, or maybe it will become a poem?

 

287. Only light

New

There is

no shadow under the bed

in my new room

No shadow

beneath

the table.

Only light.

286. How can you live in a house like that now?

IMG_1738

The house was at the end

When you started to climb

you needed to be very daring

You didn’t know

that if you fell you’d float

And then you saw

that every adventure

came from a belief that you had

The big view

the open view

the view of eternity

was the only view that helped

Every step was scary

and then funny

And the house at the end

how can you live in a house like that now?

275. Side effects

Everything is changing in my world.

I am dismantling my studio. I am not doing art therapy any more. The studio will be rearranged, to support what I’ll be doing next. The free flow, that is who I am, has discovered at last that it had invented ways to stand in its own way. I hug it now, but who is hugging? My computer, what I need for making art now, what I need for writing, and a few more things will move to a temporary place in the apartment, for a while.

Here is a painting from a few days ago, and what I had written about it.

Changing

The drawing was ready for two days. I did not want to do the next step until I knew I’d have all the time needed to finish the painting.

I looked, and different possibilities ran through my imagination. Something was missing in all of them. The best thing is to do the colored shapes right after the drawing is done, as a continuous event. This did not happen in this case. But I found a way to experience the drawing freshly. I got closer, as I described in the past. I came so close, that my nose almost touched the paper. This did it. A new, trustworthier stream of ideas started to flow and I went along with it till all the shapes were there. The choice of colors came too as a stream, one after the other. Something in me knew what to do. Guess what part it is.

One thing that jumped to my attention is that in this painting the stronger part of the painting finds it easy to go out of the paper to the left side. In the beginning of the blog most or all of the drawings never went out through the left edge. The left side was usually left empty, and there was a lot of tension about this side. And here there is no problem at all. The right side of the painting goes out through the right, but it is the weaker part of the artwork and it feels hesitant.

So we have a change.

Lets take another issue. There seem to be two people in the painting. Both have a blue body. And around or close to their heads there are circles of colors that can be felt as light. It just came to me, as everything else came, as parts of the flow. My reaction to having the impulse to draw these halos was to avoid doing it and find something else to draw instead of them. But my dedication is to trust what comes. So I went ahead and did the circles of light.

When I was on my first meditation retreat in 1990, I had a dream, in which I saw myself meditating on the top of a mountain. The mountain and I were shown as silhouettes. Behind us was an orange light that became more and more intense. I woke up in the middle of the night and discovered that I could make my mind go totally quiet just by telling it to do so. I said: Enough! And it calmed down.

I have a feeling that both the people in the art are monks. They walk their path alone. They may be versions of the same person. The one on the right embodies an idea that has been let go of, and the bigger one on the left is acting now with a new choice. The word pilgrimage comes to mind. The direction towards which this figure is moving is the true ’I’, which moves all the time, so you cannot really reach it. But you certainly can be it.

There is a story in the bible, the Hebrew bible, about Saul. He is the one who would become King Saul later. At the time of the story he worked as a herder of donkeys. Today it would be like a parking garage attendant, who takes all the cars to the gas station every day. All the donkeys ran away from Saul that day. He ran after them in vein. But on his way he met with the prophet Samuel. Samuel was there because God had sent him with some oil to find Saul, pour the oil on his head and let him know that he was chosen by God to be the king of Israel. Politics was messy then too. To Saul this was quite a shock, I believe. But for the people who told the story, this was a chance to invent a saying: He looked for donkeys and found a kingdom.

Aren’t we all like Saul? We always aim for the less important things and the best happens to us as if it was side effects. Luckily, we pay attention one day to that part of us that is true and always awake, and eventually get it.

274. Feeling good is the main thing anyway

This is a very long one, to compensate for the long time between entries.

Yesterday (I wrote this on 9/7/2017) I started a big series, as I figured it would be, of little drawings, quick, spontaneous, intuitive, as connections, asking and getting answers, discovering subconscious conflicts and fears and releasing them, using whatever will work best, and not leaving the process until I am without fear.

This drawing was the first.

Busy but open

I won’t describe the process. I can say it was directed from my better place. I was determined to go back to not planning, even in the most free and general terms. I wanted there to only be what comes intuitively. No preparing an area to be painted and then painting it, as I did a lot lately.

I took verbal notice of things in the art that I saw. Just flew through the painting and wrote the words that came to me as I was looking at different parts or groups of parts. It is quite easy to figure out the parts that the lines of words came from. You will see.

Then I scrambled all the sentences, as in the old days, added words and sentences to make it work as a piece that makes sense verbally, added two lines in the end, and turned the first line into the name of the piece.

As these additional words came to me, to explain meanings and connect the parts, the arranging mechanism of my mind started to form meanings.

When we are in a deep good place we usually don’t look for meanings. But sometimes, new knowledge appears for us. We suddenly know something about how things are, that we did not know before. Here it is different. I flowed with the verbal investigation to where my heart took me by the hand, so to speak. The heart wants to take the mind with it, if you have the tendency to do it.

Now, before I started drawing, I asked all my acquaintances from the nonphysical to help me find where I am, and how to proceed. I felt quite lost, did not know what to do with this mock life that I created, in the world that I created. Everything has lost its allure for me, from the knowing that it is not the real. I wanted to know the real. And I also lamented the loss of what seemed to be a beautiful life, imperfect indeed, but meaningful, depending indeed on the world and I being somewhat real.

I knew that there is a more real me, more beautiful, and it is what comes from a deeper perspective. I knew that this life, with everything in it is an illusion, but still I felt there were people who could use help in finding their truth, in finding their way to be happier. This idealism was lost, as I understood that all that appears to me is invited by me, in search of knowing myself in a deeper way, or it may be in search of anything that I chose to invite and investigate.

Anyway, this meaningfulness was gone.

So everything I had an idea about starting to do, I immediately had the idea of stopping, as it made no sense to do anything.

It did not feel good to be like this. There were things that my life could be better with, practically speaking and I could busy myself with them. But this is not all.

I lived with meaning all my life. I thought that it was possible and necessary to have meaning if I wanted to be content. I wanted to find my way into it again. This was a habitual thinking indeed.

There is the teaching of the truth that I felt I wanted to do. But I saw myself at that moment unfit, as I have not lived in the knowing of it all the time. I still experienced fear, freezing fear.

So I asked all of them to help. Come through the drawing, I asked, and let me know where I am, and what to do next.

So here is what came in the words and sentences at first.

# Landscape view

# Unexpected turns

# Trees fly up slowly

# Blue stars like precious stones

# Energy jumps all around

# Arranging

# There is something in the next area, sending thin feelers in to where we are

# It is busy here but a lot of sky is open.

Now I scrambled all the words and sentences in my favorite way and wrote it all in the new order, with a few additions that came to me in the process, to connect some parts logically and to give meaning.

The meaning, in a strange way, is a choice, as I am the one who invites this meaning. But it is also what is received through the connection (with the non-physical). This whole process is a connection. And you can have a sense of the absurd. It looks very compellingly that something happens, but really nothing happens. I think I’ll need to talk about this some other time.

Here is the final arrangement:

ARRANGING

It is busy here

But a lot of sky

Is open

The trees fly up slowly

To discover the landscape view

With many unexpected turns

There is something in the next area

Sending thin feelers in

To where we are

What is it that they are looking for?

Is it the blue stars

That are

Like precious stones?

Yellow energy, faster than everything here,

Jumps all around

To define something new

That we do not know yet.

Now I took small portions of the writing that seemed to have one specific meaning in them that had to do with me and my life, and wrote this meaning, as it came to me. I still did not know what would show up. It was just intuition after intuition and more intuition. Intuition is not thinking, so we don’t have meaning yet.

I know that philosophy deals with intuition in its ways. But this is not the intuition that I write about here, as far as I know. I’ll have to write about this too in another entry.

Here are these specific meanings:

Busy with open sky– My mind. The forces of habits moving. Awareness sees a lot of space.

The trees that fly up slowly– Like me, venturing into the bigger me.

The landscape view with the unexpected turns– Change, when you look down from above, is waiting to happen.

Something with feelers– My friends in the nonphysical, always expecting preparedness, illuminating me with knowledge, when I ask for it.

Blue stars, like precious stones– Memories of the truth, spots of love and openness, connection moments.

The yellow energy, getting ready. It is the energy that does the ’how’, when I choose the ‘what’.

Definition of something new that we do not know yet– Everyone and everything getting ready for the change.

So I see, as I’ve seen several times before, that every time I turn to my friends in the nonphysical, or even just ask intuition, or just ask nobody in particular, the first answer I get is that things are so much better than I think.

That it will be okay if I take care of feeling good. They did not say this but I know they would have said, had there been a need for it.

Feeling good is the main thing anyway.

 

Maybe this is a stranger entry than the usual? Please comment and I’ll answer to the best of my ability.


Awards

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 325 other followers

My Pages

The healing process

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

Advertisements