Archive Page 30

105. A simple drawing with a lot to tell

At 4 AM once more, something tells me to go to the studio to draw.

What comes out surprises me, as other drawings did. Even though many of the shapes I use in my drawings remind of plants I usually do not draw flowers as the subject of the drawing. But here the shapes are clearly flowers. This is what wanted to come.

Four flowers

Four flowers

It looks simple. Four flowers grow next to each other. I leave them alone in the night and go back to bed.

In the morning I see the drawing on the table and start thinking. But it is not really thinking. It is a way to be sensitive to what I see with words. I call this process, whether it is done with pictures or with texts, LISTEN/DO. This process, on its own, starts pulling in knowledge I did not know were there. This process starts to show that there is a lot of information in this simple drawing that could have been missed.

Here is what I see:

Starting in the left and ending in the right, as was the order of doing, it started with red that is changing moods or intensities. It went on to green and blue, flailing and sending long limbs or flowers in different directions. This may be surprisingly accurate in describing my life, flourishing early, and breaking off to two directions.  One is trying to fix my childhood traumas. The other is going deeper and deeper into knowing the truth of all.

The two flowers that come next are less physical but more straight, and they flourish with more ease and normality.

After that there are no more flowers.

The one on the extreme right is the tallest and the most straight, and it goes all the way to the top and a bit out of the paper, to bear its flower there.

What feels a little strange is that the colors in the right side are less vivid. They go from ochre, which is less vivid than the red and the green but still alive (It feels as if it is a bit farther away and somewhat transparent), to the slightly darker last one, which looks as if it is a shadow and not a real flower. Nevertheless it has vitality in its shape and maybe it feels spiritual.

So the process goes from what can be felt as pain in a big show-off, through growth that is unsure of its direction, to transparency and, in the last one, to unreal.  Maybe the last flower says that the physical life that we have here is not real, but a shadow of the images in our mind. And if this is so, then the image I am creating now, as the life I am about to live, will be more alive but I will clearly know that it is not real in the way we usually think it is.

104. Expand

It is 4 AM. My body trembles from soles to neck. All the nervous system trembles everywhere: In the heart, in the feet, in the stomach, in the neck. As if I am sitting in a truck while the strong engine is working. I had this happen before but this is stronger. I don’t know what it is. On one hand it is frightening, but not much. I have gone through things like this so many times already. On the other hand I have been asking for so long to be guided and to be supported in my being who-I-am to the fullest degree possible. I know I need to do a drawing. I don’t want to get up from my bed and walk to the studio, but I have to do a drawing.

Surprisingly, when I start, I am very calm and the movements of the brush are very easy. I do a second color and a third and I know that this is it. I have finished.

Life bubbling

Life bubbling

I find in me the energy to do the going-in-with-words. I make a list. I scramble. In the new order of the words I insert a few more words that help to connect the lines and here it is, all done with ease and flow:

Expand

Go go go

Connect

Life is bubbling in you

It makes a lot of noise

And sometimes it hurts

Build

Say yes yes yes

Heart and all

Going far, going far

And about to dance

Expand

Work together

Expand.

103. Yesterday and today (Straight talk)

Yesterday

Three bodies in the sky

Three bodies in the sky

 Deep under the surface

Are talking rocks

Telling stories

And elbowing each other.

In the sky

Three main bodies float

One is the way some parts of the whole

Stick together

Awaiting resolution

Another is the collection of cans and can’ts

The third is an angel

Who promises that the legs are good.

In the vast landscape

The rocks, the fields

And the hazy horizon

Consider everything they see

As the higher sky above it all

Smiles.

Today

Like teeth i an x-ray

Like teeth in an x-ray

Like teeth in an x-ray

With the roots that they send

Into the jaw

Like bubbles of air

Caught in pockets

Like doctors in white gowns

Or maybe angels

Arranging everything in the best way

With love and laughter

Like warmth

Like kindness

Like the way it has to be

And it is.

Like countries with wars and complications

And borders everywhere

Like lakes and yellow sands

And the big sea

Marred

But still blue

And deep.

Like maps

For the shapes of clothing

That will move in the air

While being held by our bodies

Walking on this earth

Talking with each other

Knowing that nothing has ever moved

But the mind.

102. I am a tree

I am a tree

I am a tree

I am a tree

With a thinking eye

I wrinkle my forehead

I can’t control my hair

I shut my mouth into a straight line

And you can lean on me.

101. As a child in wonder

As a child in wonder

As a child in wonder

With a strong trunk

Connected to the ground

It makes a circle

And grows in all directions

It is full of life

Creating quite a stir

Even places that were broken

Grow

It looks at the world

As a child

In wonder

It takes its space

With grace

It dances smoothly

Through it all.

 

Is it about me, following life as it lives itself through pain and nerve growth, becoming curious about itself?

Is it about the pain, going along with the growing nerves, being curious about what will happen next?

Is it about both of us?

After all, Who is cerating the pain?

When the nerves grow they hurt. So I heard. So I seem to experience. If I walk too much when they feel better, they feel worse afterward.

But does it really have to be that way?

Can I change this?

In that case, Just drawing it with intuitive flow and writing in the same way, coming to know the thinking and imagining part of it a bit closer, releases this thinking  from its hold on my idea of me and the world and the ways that they behave.

It is hard to define the “me” here. I suspect it is made of such ideas as above, collected throughout life, associated with one another and stay as a strange collection that keeps pushing us to live inauthentic lives, and so is the world.

100. In his face

The wind blows in his face

The wind blows in his face

The goat stood on two legs

And the rider is falling

The grass shows

That the wind is blowing

In his face.

99.The awakening of curiosity

Twice this night I came to this table, made drawings and went in with words. The nerves are now closer to the surface and burn all the time. Sometimes I can take it and sometimes I can’t. But even when I can’t, I take, because there is nothing that can be done. The salves that I have and used to help a little don’t affect the pain more than in an insignificant way. So I almost fall asleep, because I am so tired after many nights like this, and wake up with a peak of pain that I cannot take.

In most cases I find something that I can do in a meditative way, to calm the body down at least. Then I fall asleep. But this night it was hard, as it has been for a few weeks now. Maybe it is the tiredness that makes it hard. I try to think a thought that will make me feel better and imagine something that makes me feel good, but I am very tired and start to be upset. What is going on, I want to know? So many times I thought that the end has come already, and yet the pain just increases. When will it end?

Yesterday I had a hint that I have to be patient. We have a pot with daffodils that we got as a present in Christmas. Until yesterday there was no sign of growth. There are five of them in the pot and all had a short, one inch, thick, green shoot coming out of the bulb. This did not change for almost three months. Every morning I gave them a little bit of water. Yesterday morning I watered them again. They still looked the same. I gave up on them. I saw other daffodils growing already in other places. In the afternoon I saw them again and one of them had grown that green shoot by two inches between morning and afternoon. And I thought: I can take this as a hint that I have to be patient. It seems that the breakthrough has not happened for me yet, but it will, when something will be right, as it was for that daffodil.

In both drawings, when I went in with words, the text just came as it is, without any scrambling or manipulation. I added a couple of connecting words to the first text and erased two words in the second.

The hot wind blew

The hot wind blew

Nothing.

The hot wind blew everything away

All became dust

In the air

Yes, there was an emotion there

That the wind blew

With pieces of the green of the earth

A few specks of soil

The oceans

And the melancholy moans.

 I officially declare and acknowledge

That this is what

Transpired.

Something happens in the sky

Something happens in the sky

Something beautiful

And terrible

Happens in the sky

All the words that I have

Will do nothing with this

I have no words

I am wounded

I am denied normal life

And understanding

It is beyond me

Do things fall apart

Or come together?

I do not know.

I still don’t know what is going on, but something does happen and I feel a little better after doing the process, maybe because my curiosity has been triggered.

And here, in these last words hides one of the secrets of healing. We think that in order for a healing to be, the pain or any other manifestation has to change. But the real healing is never in that change. Rather, the change is a result of the awakening of the true self. The awakening of curiosity is the healing here.

98. When the head finally falls

I am going through a strange time.

On one hand the ability to feel in my feet grows more and more every day. I start having longer periods without pain. It is going to happen. I have brought my psyche to a state that allows my body to heal from Neuropathy and neuropathic pain. I allowed intuition to show me what was blocking my healing ability and it took me to places I would not have been able to go to without the art process and its reading. I accepted the strangest ideas that showed up and allowed them to become loose and leave me, opening the space for better inner experiences.

On the other hand I am going through a seesaw of good mood and sad mood, up and down. And the events in my life go along with these moods.

One day I have a new client calling. The next day they cancel. One week I have more income than I had in a long time. In the next week two or three clients cannot come for one reason or another. I am still in some kind of a struggle, even though I see the futility of it. I know there is no need for struggle. It is my habitual patterned subconscious mind, with the game that I came here to earth to play, not wanting to let go of its mission.

There are two ways to come out of it. The first is to imagine living in better states and be so convincing to the subconscious that it takes on new thoughts and beliefs, instead of the old ones, which have created my life now. This can happen, and happens in the best way for me through the drawing process. It happens so well because I allow my intuition to guide me to what I want to live, instead of what I have lived. My intuition shows me what is best for me. And I love to be in touch with it.

The other way is to peel off the mask from what we call reality, to see that it is not real, that it is being created by yours truly all the time as some kind of a crazy game, in which I, the endless I, enjoy all the emotional calamities, as if they were the best delicacies in the world. This too happens in the best way for me through the drawing process, through which I let go of more and more mind-stones, and clear the way, quite easily, for intuition to stream lovingly through. This is the tearing down of the mask from the face of reality.

So the same process does these two things.

I have written about this before, and have gone through this process successfully many times, and I still have to do it.

Here is today’s craziness report.

Image

The body is like a mountain

In the early morning

When it is cold

The head is like a heavy rock

That can fall

Any minute

The palm trees are like thorns

In the end of summer

Dry and stiff

There will be a lot of noise

When the head

Finally falls.

97. I have been awake for a while

I have been awake for a while. The color of the sky in the little corner of my window starts changing. I sit at the window seat and look toward the east, along the street that leads to the hospital. I see the lights of the emergency cars, big and blinding. I sense the energy of this area, near the entrance to the emergency room. It is filled with fear and worry and a heroic fight against the fear and the worry, which only makes them stronger, as this is the nature of the mind. And far, way far from the end of the street, even beyond the top branches of the trees lining Sunnyside Park, this is where the real drama happens now. The colors are coming into the day.

I make tea and sit on the window seat for a short while. I am not sure what it is that I am feeling. I go to my studio. Intuition leads me to use only the colors that have remained in the mixing compartments of the watercolor box from years of mixing colors in them (See the box’s picture in entry #58). Some of them are there still from the children’s book “The Miracle of the Potato Latkes” done many years ago, using this watercolor box and the same paper that I am using now (Rives BFK, Moulin du Gue). Every time I use the colors from these compartments I remember that book. It was a strong experience, an adventure and a mystery too to make a whole book by dipping a wet brush in little cakes of color and transferring pigments to a piece of paper, which is also a miracle of thin fibers holding on to each other and carrying on them the marks that I make. And these created a story and generated emotions that made children want to do things, like explore their lives, explore their emotions, feel love and wonder.

I draw. Here is the drawing.

Little children with love

Little children with love

You’d think that by now I’d know what to do with it, but I don’t. I try to look at the big picture and this is what I write, to help me see:

Mainly two parts.

One is a group of differents (The computer dictionary disagrees but I leave the word as it is)

Taking roots

And playing together

Not knowing what’s going on with them (just like me).

The second is love coming from the left

Softly touching

Saying I’m here, I’m loving.

And together, the children start growing

And are full of wonder

Allowing their truth come into them

Fill their bodies

 And activate them

To live as wonder

And love.

96. Up and down, up and away

Crazy times for me.

Not everything is explainable, because reality falls apart.

There is going up to a good mood and then an old habitual sadness/bitterness washes over me. Then again the mood turns, this time into wonder and then reality starts falling apart.

That’s where I am, folks.

Drawing one:

Strikingly decorated

Strikingly decorated

The bird

Was strikingly decorated

And had

A very smart eye

She ate only cones of sugar

And that’s why

There was some confusion

In the way she uttered her words

In a bird like way

She flew

Along the rainbow

In the sky that is inside of all things

She had a golden glow

On the feathers of her chest

The dream that she had

About the engine that runs everything

Made her smile in waves

Like an introverted clown.

The second drawing:

The guarded house

The guarded house

Under the sky of a dark rule

I worked hard

At the river

I saw

A little soft field

With lovely sky above it

Tinged with blood

It is hard to move through the density of the trees

It is hard to enter the angry, guarded house

But when I’m in

Will she be the one who’ll save me?

Or will she be the one

Who will condemn me to death?

The third drawing:

Te world is just behind your forehead

The world is just behind your forehead

What is inside

Is projected out

A fog, like a rage, very much subdued

Just above the eyes

Is out as many things

All collected for your perusal

A rock in a white courtyard

Is a thought

The desert

The golden sand

The striking sky that turns from deep blue to grey

And the distant mountains

Are nothing

But a beautiful cloud

Inside of the forehead.

The forth drawing:

The conductor with the baton of lightning

The conductor with the batons of lightning

The big bird is dancing and falling

The little boy plays with a lizard

The fish learns to fly

The Indian chief

Rows a canoe in the shape of a catfish

Going backwards

The alien alligator holds a branch in its jaw

The roots swim in the water

And all of this happens

Because the conductor holds two batons

Made of lightning.


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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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