Healing and growth through intuitive art
Is it a mountain
Or the roof of a barn?
Is this a cloud
Or a smoking chimney?
And this,
Is this a man
With a bird in his hand?
What does he think about?
Do his thoughts
Dive in the sky?
And the drop of green
That fell on the face of the paper,
Why did it fall?
Can this drop be another world
With other people and birds?
Why don't they come closer
To shake hands with us
To have tea
And talk about our lives?
And can the children
Go out and play together
In the backyards
Of the universe?
There was a thought
And very soon emotions gathered
In no time
The wind will chase them all away
But we will still be blinded
By the light they had.
I am passing near the jungles
Leaving dust behind
The big eye is looking
The men and women of all times
Grow out of the timeless bulb
Shining yellow light
I am traveling to another place
I do not know it yet
But this one here, I also do not know
All I know is: It is me
In all the different colors
Appearing many, being one.
I have been interviewed twice for an online magazine, called: Vega Magic Magazine. It is a magazine about inspiring life. They also call it: Digital Magazine for Creative Minds. It is created in Spain and translated to other languages. The first interview was in a video form, the second in a written form. They sent me questions and I wrote my answers. For the video one you can just go to YouTube and search for Giora Carmi. You will find it easily (with other interviews). For the written one you have to go to the magazine: https://www.vegamagicmagazine.com and look inside of it for the interview.
Weeds grow haphazardly in the village
And the village travels like a boat
On the face of history
To reach its destination
Aren’t the weeds distracting to the travel?
And what’s the village’s goal, if not
To travel while the weeds distract?
And why is the goal so far away
Along the waves of words,
And not right here, right now?
Can joy live in darkness
Where it is dense
With blinding light,
Where clumps of small explosions
Turn around
With menace?
Can I find my true life in chaos?
No
My life is independent
And pain is happening in it.
In my little garden of dreams I swim I find the red hard to chew But the green invites me The yellows warm me up The grays advise to rest I see the screens That tell of being open and enclosed I see the big lines Building lives and falling But now It's up to me I can close my eyes To have a different thought And where do you think I'll be When they will open?
There is fire in my feet
But I am dancing
And lifting my heavy heart
A bird comes out from my head
Another bird is kissing me
I see my mom resting
On a big pink cloud
I am ready to sail on the river now
To pass the pasture
And come to my new playing field
I am quiet
I am strong
I only do what feels good to me
I am free.
The bird wants to fly
On her own
She slowly disconnects
From where she stands
Wanting to fly
Takes its energy
From the sun
And it is light
Hesitation
To leave the earth
Is from the fear
And it is heavy
For many years
It seemed that
She has flown
And stayed
It took a lifetime
To slowly be
More airborne
Than earthbound
One
Lifetime
Which is
No time at all.
The parts of the head
And shoulders
Spread to all the wrong places
As if they were kids
In a school intermission
Instead of being controlled
By the rules
They freely followed
Their hearts
As a result
Harmony settled in
In which
Effortlessly
All individual whims together
Became the complete expression
Of the one.
The queen had a party
The guests drank and talked
Around the table
But I wanted to sleep
So she made a bed for me
Nearby
I sank in
Among the big pillows
The words of a book
Appeared
And I read them in my sleep
Nerve pain woke me up
Where in the book was I?
I left with all the guests
Not before
I saw the queen
Getting into that same bed
Saying:
How nice that it is warm
I let the others go
And came back to fetch my shoes
But the royal cat attacked me twice
And fell on its back
Like a rag
I gave up
I laughed
The dream of my life was lying broken
On the floor
And light was coming
Through the cracks.
intuitiveflow 