Archive for the 'Intuition' Category



302. The cat in the tail of the story

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This is the beginning of the answer that I asked in the previous post.

I sat with the eleven years old boy in the art therapy room. Let’s call him Jonathan.

Christmas was coming and he wanted to draw a Christmas tree.

I have been working with him for a few weeks by now and noticed that he always preferred to make things that he had already made before. He did not feel up to the challenge of imagining and inventing.

I let him do what he chose to do. Several times he wanted to cast a plaster mask and paint it later. There was a lot of white plaster dust on the dark table, and As Jonathan was working on the cast, I spread some white plaster dust on my side of the table and drew in it with my finger.

In the end of the session I asked Jonathan if he wanted to have some dust on his side, so he could draw in it with his finger.

The first time he only smiled.

The second, he shyly drew something.

And it became the ritual in the end of every session. I took pictures of his drawings in the dust and we kept them with his other creations.

One day, in the ritual time, he drew something with a paintbrush on a piece of paper.

Then came the session with the tree.

According to Jonathan, the first tree did not come out right.

He tried another one next to the first, then a third and a forth. With every additional tree his distress grew.

I wanted for him to enjoy this new stream of creativity that started to appear. I told him that the trees that he made look really good (They did). Especially as they are next to each other, they really look like trees in the field. Every one is somewhat different. One bends to the right, another to the left, as trees behaved in nature.

But clearly this did not improve his mood at all. He became more and more bent under the weight of his sadness.

Maybe you can try another technique, I suggested? You know, if you draw the tree with pieces of plasticine, you have more control and you can change things as you go. His hands were trembling that day from the heavy medications that he was taking at the time.

He made a tree from lines of rolled plasticine.

In his mind, this did not work too.

It was on the tip of my tongue to say that the tree looked good, but I stopped myself.

Something was wrong with trying to convince him that his work was good when he felt that he was failing.

What did he really want from me?

Then I understood.

-You want to show me that you cannot do it?

He looked at me with wide, open eyes.

-You want me to know how hard it is for you to do things?

-You want me to see how sad it is that you can’t?

There were tears in his eyes and I had some in mine, as we looked at each other.

The session ended and there was no need for further talking.

And there is a little tail to the story:

In the next day, at noon, I took my lunch from the kitchen’s window and started walking back to the art room. I had a pile of lattice leaves on one side of the plate, and one of them fell to the floor.

I bent down to pick it up and did not notice that Jonathan was walking towards me, on his way to the kitchen’s window. When he passed near me he caressed my head lightly, as one would do to a cat, and walked on.

The next entry, #303, will connect #301 with #302.

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301. A picture of despair

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I have been on the spiritual path from the day I was born. Calamities happened and revelations were revealed. I have experienced the highs and the lows of human experience.

The tendency is to push toward the highs and use any method that I can find, to eliminate the down turns.

These days I wake up with pain that stands in the way of even making art and writing. I love biking so much that I bike almost every day lately, even with the pain. And then I suffer the consequences and do not sleep at night from the pain.

What is going on? Since I create everything that my experience seems to bring, why do I create this suffering?

I was told by inner guidance that as soon as I wouldn’t need it, it will go. Why do I need it?

And of course there were all the good people, healers, spiritual mavens, good friends, who tried to encourage me to choose the highs, to use medications to reduce the pain, to take a look at this article, and to try this or that.

I love this painting because it describes despair beautifully. The sea of sadness is under all the phenomena that is above it. The grass tries to cover it, but on the left side, it is exposed.

Joy tries to spring out from some spot in the low middle. A tree grows from the green, but the sky around it seems to limit its space and is more like a prison than a space to expand into.

Whatever tries to grow up is being blocked and pushed sideway by the heavy dark cloud that has the same color as the sea of sadness at the bottom.

There is one more desperate effort to break trough the cloud with the magenta colored little shapes. It is being chocked in the dark blue cloud. Still, some lines that escaped the blockade and are at the top of the painting try to go up but they too end up broken and listless.

There is a little thin hope on the top right.

That’s it.

Oh, and I missed that baby little line on the right with the orange light on its side. This is the part of my consciousness that is truly free in this moment to turn right and walk into the space of infinite possibilities. But it is not sure yet that it really wants to go. Look at its top. It is looking back at the struggle.

What is missing?

How to allow change to happen?

A deeper view of the truth is needed.

I will start going there in the next entry.

300. The elements of the story and the elements of the truth

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H and I spoke about the light that I saw on the wall outside of my window. I mentioned opening a window and then opening the opening in the window.

We talked about the pain. I thought about health and what my feet will do in a healthy situation.

I have been making some kind of a horizon in my paintings lately, and maybe for many years. It is like an anchor of physical reality. Things can be attached to it or they can float away, to indicate freedom from the idea of an anchor.

I have little things floating in the skies that I make, to also show some connection between heaven and earth.

I have buildings, I have trees, I have openings in the buildings’ walls.

I usually have something green.

And I have some humans or animals that are twisted and obscured, but have strong hints of human or animal poses and movements.

The earth has many times hints of rocks, cracks folds and ploughed fields.

You can find things like these in this painting and in most of my other artworks.

But the paintings are different from each other.

What are different are the lines, the composition and the colors.

So these are the real content of my works.

Give me hands, give me spiders, give me stones, and I will use them to create different compositions, with lines that feel different and of course colors that tell different experiential stories.

Many years ago I made prints that had only numbers in them. I’ve always been like this.

So it is the composition and the expressions of the lines and the colors.

Do you want to understand me?

Look me up in these.

But it will be only a relative knowing.

It is impossible to understand me.

I am infinite, just like you.

299.Three drawings

Swinging in endlessness

First started with a face. It is on the left.

I almost decided to draw a face in a way that can be recognized. I started in this way and as I went along I answered impulses from the heart and distorted the face beyond recognition.

Then I started drawing a little house. I thought about a tree and then thought that I always go for trees, so I decided to draw something else. A house came to me. I knew it was my house, where I lived with my wife and children in Israel. Then the tree had to be there, as we did have a huge pine tree next to the house.

And I remembered the swing with my first daughter in it, swaying extremely long sways.

Then there was no place for anything else, even though I entertained the idea of going on, adding more things. But the swinging child faced the open space and this was a complete cycle. There was no need for anything else.

First was the experiencing of a twisted flow, which means that the infinite emptiness flowed through preconceived ideas (the face). Then the drawing came closer to love, by touching on the home and the tree, and indeed my first daughter. And with this closeness to the heart, the swing swayed a long way and we came back to be face to face with the endlessness.

This one drawing has a whole process of healing.

Then came the exercise: Find the spot that feels the best and dive into it with a second drawing. I chose the space that my daughter faced.

This was the motivation behind the second drawing.

Expansion

The drawing shows expansion. The heart opens. The language changes from the language we usually use, like in this writing for example, into an energetic way of experiencing and communicating. You cannot satisfactorily describe this experience with any word language. But if you feel anything when you look at this drawing, it is because you too can experience things that cannot be described in one of our languages.

And what is the dot in the middle?

Maybe the feeling of being a local spot around which there is endlessness? Erase this spot and there is no time and space. And maybe the dot comes from a sense of something very far that the ‘I’ wants to reach, out of curiosity? Maybe the dot comes from the feeling that there is always more?

Then again: looking for the place in this drawing that felt the best, I chose the object at the top middle that looks somewhat like eyelashes or a line of cypresses on a far horizon.

Angels

Diving into this, I drew the group of what may look like trees that feel very good with each other, or maybe like a group of angels playing together in the sky, like babies.

Then it came to me to indicate some ground, to show that the first group was up somewhere, and as I did it, it became plants and ground and the plants look somewhat like the angels.

Now when I asked myself where is the place in this last drawing that feels the best, the answer that came to me was: The space between the ground and the angels.

So I see this space as the place that feels like home. From it emerge objects of fascination. They feel good too in another way. But once I entertain this fascination with the objects, I long again to the home space.

And maybe I should simply choose, for the best feeling place, everything. Just everything.

298. Sliding story

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They are dancing and I want to dance too. You see, it is about being together, loving and loved. Somehow this protects you from sliding into the fire.

But I am isolated. My skin is screaming. My mood rolls into itself and as a stone on the road it lets the little monsters play on its top.

This is all okay indeed. It’s just a story among the multitudes, except for the light inside, the light who does not care about a thing, and the light who cares about everything.

“They” are the brown and the ochre

“I” am the blue line with yellow inside

“Sliding”: Everything slides, the whole story. All the characters are in the same story and they all are about to fall. The light of the fire is already seen on the edges of things. It is also a part of the story.

“My mood”: the purple

“The little monsters”: Fear ideas

“The light inside”: You know what it is. It is the only thing that you cannot invent.

The truth is inside out.

297. A flying cow

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A reading of the drawing:

 

Bye…

I’m on my way folks

With a horse’s head, with a bandaged foot

Stepping off my pedestal

While trees still give away their leaves

To the barren earth

Don’t think too much, land

Allow the dark cow jump off and fly

The black and blue will disappear

In time.

Note:

I am not leaving the blog. This is just a reading of a passing mood as it presented itself in the drawing.  You can read the drawing too, in your own way, and it will be true for you. It is fun.

Here are some of my interpretations of the poem’s lines:

Horse’s head – intuition

Bandaged foot – Still hurts

Trees giving away their leaves to the barren earth – Everything continues

Barren earth – not real

Don’t think too much – An advice to the people, made of earth

Allow the dark cow jump up and fly – observe from beyond the thoughts, and the cows will fly

The black and blue will disappear – All wounds will heal.

In time – Only in time can anything heal. Where there is no time, there are no wounds.

296. A meeting

 In:Out

One is inside and he meets with the other one who is outside.

Or is he?

No.

Is it the one outside who is meeting with the one inside of himself?

But the one inside is not complete.

He is just a profile line, open in the back. The mind that is around him mingles with the mind inside of his head.

He may be able to think with the mind that is outside of him.

And that is the mind that is inside of the head of the friend he is just meeting with.

But wait a minute:

This space is not inside of his new friend’s head.

It is really outside of him.

So where is the mind of his outside friend?

The world?

The universe?

Beyond?

It seems that this is where the mind of the one who is outside, that the inside person is meeting with right now, is.

So the one inside, maybe he is only an idea? What do you say?

A thought?

And the one outside?

Maybe he is the thought of the one who is inside?

So are they both real?

As real as can be,

When you are unreal.

And maybe both are one thought, appearing as two, for the purpose of having this meeting?

Just a thought

That I wanted to share.


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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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