Posts Tagged 'moving'

290. Who needs a subject?

Birdman

I finished it yesterday and wrote a mistaken date, as you can find in the signature. It should be 050418.

I started it in the night that lead to the forth. I came off bed where I did not sleep and sat down to do a drawing.

The colors will come in the day, I thought. This is indeed what happened.

I had a feeling about how I wanted the language of the painting be. It was a pleasant feeling, like a feeling that I used to get when I would be on my way to the swimming pool, already imagining the sensation of water touching my body everywhere.

I want to write about this language.

But first, it seems there is some form that is being depicted in the picture. Maybe it is some sort of a big man with a bird’s head. Whatever it is, it is made of a flimsy structure of moving lines that hold a strange gathering of soft, mostly translucent shapes.

These shapes of colors; what holds them in place? Are they confined? It does not seem so. It looks as if these shapes can move away and be free of the drawing. Some pieces do radiate away.

Do they want to be together? Maybe their behavior has nothing to do with wanting? Maybe this is just what they do when they are in certain circumstances?

All these details are told with the language of the artwork. You can say, maybe, that the language and the story that is being told cannot be separated.

Just like in any language, when the language and what it describes cannot be separated, the whole thing becomes a poem. Or maybe, since this is a visual art piece, maybe we can say that it gives the feeling of something true. If we experience this feeling, we tend to like the painting and usually it is hard, if at all possible for us, to explain why we like it. The whole experience belongs in a different realm than the one we usually describe successfully with a language.

But is this at all possible to describe any experience in a language?

This is why for some of us the language of numbers feels more capable of describing phenomena or experiences. If it is three, then it is three and nothing else. At least we know this. But do we?

Maybe this is good enough for now, for this discussion?

I want to aim the light of our thinking onto the use of the visual language. I think that the language shares more information than the content.

So the lines here seem as if they are not sure where they are going. They try and fail to describe something. But in their failure, a feeling is created that something is there. We are not sure what exactly the lines do. Do they try to describe a shape, or do they describe the quivering of the energies as they move through the form? Is it a living form, because there is energy moving through it?

How does the form feel? Does it want to be there? Is it wondering about itself and its environment?

Is it just trying to be filled with enough being, so it can experience everything around and in it?

And as such, does it matter at all what the form is? It is a wanting to experience. This is enough.

And let’s take the colored forms.

They come together as different units of being, made of what? Maybe too made of wanting to know or wanting to experience? They touch each other and overlap, where they mix with each other. They accompany the quivering curious delineated shape of lines and they interact with it too.

And all the parts, the lines and the shapes, are free in their nature. They don’t have to be there. They have just come together as a strange occurrence, involving all kinds of being, stories and feelings, out of their common curiosity.

Are they focused on the inner world, so to speak, or the outward one? It seems that there is nothing really substantial in their gathering. Nothing is heavily real in both the inner and the outer world that they create. Only deep, rolling, playing interest in what can be made up and be experienced.

But since there is nothing very substantial in that coming together of these suggestive, wondering lines and the friendly mixing together color shapes, then who is experiencing anyway?

You see? All of this is given or shared through the language of this art.

Who needs a subject then?

Well, we need a subject for this coming together and experiencing. But it is never as substantive as we make it to be in our thoughts.

Think about it if you wish, or maybe it will become a poem?

 

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222. Who won’t twitch their feet when they are tickled?

P1000217

Thoughts/things

Maybe it is strange, but these days nothing is more pleasant to me than sitting quietly somewhere and watching the interface with the quiet space that is always there, seeing how a few moving things in my mind calm down, feeling the body relaxing and staying there.

A person passes in the street on his bicycle and I feel this somewhere in my energy field, as if it happens there. I feel a stirring of a little, very pleasant excitement and then it goes away. I see it as if it is a thought.

The quiet space is alive. If I tune in to it, I know, thoughts like the one that is a person on a bicycle, are moving in it. There are stirrings like this in different depths. They all belong to something infinite that lives its inner life in this way, creating interest and feeling it.

I suddenly understand babies, twitching their feet when they get excited. They experience the stir in the infinite space when their wordless thoughts move. They feel as if it is a tickle. And who won’t twitch their feet when they are tickled?

 

202. Up or down

Up or down?

Up or down?

What do we see?

One complexity is flying up in the sky, above another complexity. Maybe the second one is the ground? Maybe it also floats in space?

Maybe the ground is floating in space?

If it does, then this goes along with what I started to experience more and more, that our reality is not so real as we think it is.

In our referential world there is a ground under everything. And if what appears above the ground is floating and does not even touch the ground, does it mean that it is floating really? Is it happy and jumping with joy?

One thing I can tell for sure is that both the ground and the thing that floats above it continue beyond the canvas to the left and to the right.

It seems in both of them that the left side is close to the end or to the beginning. There is less and less, as we approach the left side. So we can guess that if we go a little more to the left there will be the end of the shapes there.

Is this significant? Well yes. We don’t know yet how, but it is something clear.

When we look at the right side, things both in the floating part and in the ground are becoming more spacious.

This state of events leaves the middle area heavier and therefore it attracts our attention to it. We do not pay much attention to the left and the right. But I am used to looking for the bigger context, so I saw it.

The shapes in the floating part seem to be standing, dancing, running and moving. They seem to be moving to the right. That’s because everything is slightly heavier on the right side of the middle.

The shapes in the ground seem to be horizontal. They seem to be holding on to the rest of the shapes, as if trying to avoid being left behind, when everything else moves. If you look at where in this group the weight is, you realize that they even seem to be pulling to the left, back to the beginning.

Now the difference between the sides helps us understand. To the right there is the progress toward the unknown. In the left was the beginning. One group dances to the future and the other group holds on to where they are, afraid to move.

So it is like two worlds, living very close to each other. One is light and happy, and it is going to the future. The other is depressed and lonely and afraid to move. The two worlds don’t touch each other. Maybe they do not want to pay attention to each other. It is only us, the painter and the watchers of the painting, who can see this strange phenomenon.

In the upper part there are the adventurers, the ones who take risks, those who are not afraid to live life to the full.

In the lower part the figures are afraid and in distress.

Within each group the figures collaborate and are of the same three colors, red, orange and purple. So maybe this shows that basically these are of the same kind, those in the upper and the lower parts. But their experience is totally different.

Where would you choose to be?

You see? Suddenly the drawing changed. Before, maybe it was undecipherable and did not speak much to us. Now it is a challenge, pressing you to decide about your life.

It is nice and looks full of wisdom when I speak about this as if these figures represent some other people. But I drew this. Both the upper and the lower parts came from my imagination. So they represent me.

Which of the groups is me? Both.

If I give up on the upper, I’ll be only depressed and suffering. If I let go of the lower part, who knows what will happen? I may expand. I may explode. Everything is possible. We never know until we decide to be that upper part.

But for now I want to tell you that even though these two groups seem to be of different spirit, they actually belong in the same layer of understanding. They belong to where things are different, separate and competing.

So where is the wisdom here?

In the watcher. You and me. Let’s watch.

And if we let go of wanting to be either the upper or the lower parts, who are we? what do we belong to?

195. The screeching is terrible

Old clunky machine

Old clunky machine

The drawing was done at 10pm, the painting – in the morning after.

It is like a very big puppet. The head is too big and heavy in the composition. The mechanism is old. It stood outside in the rain and plants started growing on it in some places. You can almost hear the clunking of its mechanism, the screeching of its rusty metal, in friction with other rusty parts. It used to be very beautiful. Some of the paint is still there.

The face is stubborn. Even though parts of it have fallen off, it still insists on moving forward. It works without an operator. It used to be the fascination of the community. Now it only walks alone, with much effort and nobody is watching. It is hard for it to move. The screeching is terrible.

It thinks.

Thinking is the essence of its engine, the oil and the fuel.

And now I know who it is: It is my autopilot.


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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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