Archive for the 'The world of thoughts' Category

335. Golden tears

A garden grows
At the top of the soil
With a touch of sadness
To it

A lonely soul
Is leaving
Hoping to have it better
In another place

There is gold in the earth
And next to it
A hidden wound
A flood of sadness
And the body of a man

He is resting now
Near water and green
He is dreaming
Of a life that he could have
If he managed to go up
To the open air
Passing the blood
And the tendency of history
To pull us down
Against our will

In the open air
Our garden grows
Married
To a trauma

But we know
Don’t we
That every morsel of this scene
Is made of gold

We wipe our golden tears
With wonder.

334. I want to be a tree

I want to be a tree
But I am not sure
Which tree
I want to be
And I’m not sure
What the conditions are
In the place where I’ll stand
Is it very windy there?
Is there competition for the food?
Will the goats eat my bark?
Will the other trees be friendly
And will they understand
That I have to be
This certain way
Because of how my childhood went?

But wait
Maybe I can be a tree
From another childhood?
My mother stood very tall
Or ran wildly in the fields
My father traveled in an air balloon
My brother played
In coloring the clouds
And I knew
That everything is possible
Right from the beginning?

332. The nerve pain that broke the dream down

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.

331. Pain

The appearance of pain

At first
The red and the green
Fought with each other
And each of them was pure

Then the grey opinion said
That they were bad
And had to be hidden
From the public

Parts of them
As is always the case
Showed up
Anyway

Unstoppable
And right
But not any more
Pure and innocent

Then from fighting with the grey
The yellow lines appeared
And taking middle stage
They are screaming in our face

The yellow lines are what
In human terms
Is called
Pain.

329. Magnetic fields of the mind

The mind creates magnetic fields
Within what do they live?
They live in the truth
The truth is everywhere
And it is the only thing
That cannot be destructed
Therefore
It is not a thing

Trees grow from the earth
They eat the earth and drink water
They soak the sun
They breath the air
Like us
The earth and water are
The sun is
The air is
Products of the ancient mind
And are influenced by my own
Current mind

My mind
Is a traveling choice maker in infinity
Using the old truth
As clay
To be shaped with imagination

Hey
Everything is me!

324. My old brother sits in the room of our childhood

My old brother sits in the room of our childhood
The trees in the yard
Move slightly in the wind
Inside of his body

The clouds, one big one small
Throw a ball between them
A picture that he made one summer
Still hangs

And every step that he took
Upon the reddish earth of the village
Has left a clear imaginary mark
In the infinity that he is.

319. Glimpse

I close my eyes
And let the not-body see

My body can be found afloat
among the houses, tables, pencils, thoughts
Emerging from the ground of all

I move between my feelings and my pen
As if I fly
From dream to dream

Myself has turned to air.

I let everything go. My attention goes to where it usually is, which is everything that has to do with seeing. Seeing seems to be the strongest attraction and if you try to feel where you are, when you close your eyes, most probably you’ll find that your attention is somewhere where it feels that seeing happens: Somewhere inside of your head in the front part. The place where thinking happens is maybe also as strong. But this is only a habit. You can move yourself to another place. Or you can shift your inner listening to another mode. You can settle yourself into an energetic attention. This is what I did here. I found myself just attending to the field of awareness.

In the beginning it looks empty. Then you feel that it is alive. Then you start knowing that it is eternal, and you may start knowing more things. In this specific case I started seeing colors. The painting was some expression of that. The reason for seeing colors may have been my expecting this to happen or even just wanting.
And when you find your body, your thoughts and emotions or your experiences, in this context, Then this is what the poem describes. The sense of beauty is inherent in this state.

Your experiences will be unique to you, if you try this. Don’t take this writing as a guidance. My teacher of meditation would say: “Let go of imagining altogether. See what is there already.” What is there is awareness that you can experience. And beyond this there is nothing. That nothing you can’t experience. You just experience that there is nothing. And this nothing is you.

317. Without colors now, with colors now

Things that I drew many times before, appear again in this drawing.
The drawing is dense with shapes, especially on the right half. This drawing asks for colors that will help define the shapes, the background and the background of the background. The first background is the environment. The second is eternity.
What are these things doing together? They are flowing. They come into being and they move on, leaving their place in our awareness for other things to come, with the flow of our thoughts.

When you look at details, you may find that even shapes that seem to block the flow move, together with everything else.

All the things that I love move. They are not now what they were before. Mainly, everything shows to me how everything changes. Like watching a parade, I watch my life passing by. There will always be something to watch. My thoughts will make everything more and more beautiful. The sky will turn into the infinite heart. My home will recline on the back of my cat and both will float as clouds over the land, spotted with things I have not come to know yet. The village of my youth will undulate with little waves, while a simple bug will fly away from the big pine of my youth to its own new perceptions.

Then, when you think of it, only thoughts and perceptions change.

To end, since the drawing begged for colors, I gave them to it.

310. A delicious drama

And suddenly it was finished.

I was still trying to see more colors in the two upper leaves on the right side, as the knowing that the painting was finished started to occupy some space in my being.

This also was the time when the name came. You cannot give a name to a piece before it is finished. Well, maybe in most cases.

Sometimes you know the name even before you start. It is a strange thing, the name. It is the “what is it about” of the piece. Sometimes it happens when you recognize something special about it. In other times it is an interesting feeling that you have even before you start, and are curious enough to explore it with the art.

In any case, what has given the name immigration to this piece?

For me it is this strange line that crosses through almost everything else. Here you have this plant or whatever is depicted as the main subject, and with no logical reason, in comes this beige line, wrapped in orange, and dares go through the leaves that have color, the thick beige trunk and the empty leaves, as if it has grabbed the right to come in at the level of its choice and disregard the prevailing order.

You could even say that this stranger has cut through the old and established areas and it is aiming at the most vulnerable but alive green. Isn’t that green the best of all places in the plant, where life is experienced in its strongest impulse to grow, and its boldest claim to the adventure of being a body in space? If you had to choose a place to experience life, where would you go?

And yes, the plant was just all right without this beige and orange intrusion. Everything was just working fine. But coming in, as this new line did, has just given the most interesting and the most intense experience to this old plant.

It has introduced drama to the composition. How poor would the composition be with only all that is okay in it? Now something is breaking the routine. Something is happening, sweet, tasty, maybe even spicy.

You really need to look at immigration from a composition point of view, to see what it means to everything that is involved.

A delicious drama, this is what it is about.

309. With no intention

The lines say don’t

Please do not come here

We will fight against you

The wine says full

Says wet

Says heavy

The green says upward

Home and trees

The white says open

Free and fly

All things are watching me

But the bird is eying endlessness

With no intention.


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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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