Archive for the 'Physical and non physical' Category

305. Flying above the landscape, with all his knots

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With all his knots

he found himself flying

above the landscape

He was a line who wanted to flow in curves

he was a thought that wanted to open up

to thoughtlessness

Then, a feeling in the middle of the body

turned into a mountain range

with trees

And emptiness

as it has always done

held its breath.

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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.

295. A meditation

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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

?

294. And there we are

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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.


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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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