Posts Tagged 'burning'

314. Two me

I cry
For how I suffer
For how I let my youthful thoughts
effect my stay

My feet are burning
But
Being infinite
I split myself to two

The deeper
wiser me
Takes the crying me
In hands

Look around, I say
See how energy makes the trees
Do you see
How sensitive it is

And happy
As
It
Flows?

You too are energy
And all you see around
Is you
Including me

Do you see
How much
you love
yourself?

203. Celebration with a worry

Celebration with a worry

Celebration with a worry

I started a face, scrambled of course. It started to have features of a bird and I continued making birds. Not so clear indeed. I did a cloud and a little piece of a plant. Then painted, a long process that lasted till the evening, with breaks of course.

I liked the way it looked, but it had some weakness when you looked at it the way it was supposed to stand.

Turned on its side, so that the right became the ground, it looked good, as if it showed a few people standing in a line. But I wanted it to look good the way I planned it. I added the warm, almost orange brown at the bottom and now it is finished. It looks like a one something, big and showing its muscles, or maybe two things, embracing, while something like a fish or a bird is escaping to the left and did not have time to get an inside color.

It is strange and hard to decipher. The feeling is of some celebration with a worry. This can be its name: Celebration with a worry.

The ground, having that “orangeness” to it, feels hot and dancing. Not stable. Maybe the dancers are trying to avoid standing in one place because it is too hot?

It feels as if the whole scene is passing quickly and will disappear soon.

So what is in it for me?

Yes, the ground is burning under my feet. There is some worry above my head. And I dance with whom? I am showing my hands’ muscles. And something escapes me. It seems like a good state to be in. See? It does not have to be something specific in order to shed light on my condition. Whatever it says, I place my name after it or before, with a colon.

It does not matter so much to me any more. In the bodies, in the ground, in the cloud, in the escaping fish and in us the onlookers, presence is there. And presence goes to unknown depths.

132. Not seeking any more

Joy is a dance

Joy is a dance

When the whispering pain

Is like burning

The dead leaves want to show you the way

But joy

In spite of fear

Is a dance

The flower of sadness

Is part

Of the tapestry of life

And like joy

It is busy holding hands

With truth.

Not seeking any more

For better air or light.


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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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