Healing and growth through intuitive art
They fell asleep As they were landing On earth They played With all the colors That they brought In their dreams That always looked Real When they finished They rested their dreams On the dream of earth And took the usual bus home Where they remembered who they were before. Now they are leaving again Forgetting All they know The only thing They bring with them This time Are packages of energy That they will have to Open.
Maybe This time it is not About what is better And what is worse But: Do I want to play With differences Or Shall I rest in truth For which Both the righteous And the villain Are beloved sons?
In the moment I finish it I know I want to use some colored pencil on it. I know where and how. I wait for the drawing to dry. I listen to the radio. The music is beautiful. Then I look again and the drawing is dry. And it is beautiful as it is. It is poor in terms of colors. Only one. All that it does was accomplished with the yellow color alone.
But it has endless variations in the way the lines are made. Thin and fat, close to each other and far, straight and round. Sometimes they touch each other and become one line. The expressions of the lines are different. Each little part is different from all the others. The spaces in the drawing are very different too: Closed and open, narrow and wide, pouring into the next space or keeping to themselves.
The whole thing starts from a line that is like some ground. One side of the drawn shape goes up. The other starts going up and then turns around and goes down. The right side is listening to the left side, and when the left one makes a left turn, the right one also starts to turn left. Maybe the right side is more burdened and this is why it cannot go as high as the left one?
Are they one thing with varying sides? And what is that little something at the very right edge? Maybe the right side part stopped going up because it wanted to look at that little thing? So this side is independent, making its own decisions, even though it is obviously connected to the left side. The left one must be independent too. It is just like us, having the ability to make independent choices and at the same time being an inseparable part of the all.
That little shape at the right edge, is it coming or going?
Why did the left part turn back down?
Are they playing?
They have the spirit of playing, don’t they?
Do you need any more than one color?
Is the yellow gold, warm light or straw?
Where does the whole thing stand?
If you happen to walk near it, what will your relative size be?
And if we are left with questions only, is this a good thing or not?
A lot of my stuff is still in the living room. Another collection is in the studio, in boxes, piled up seven layers, and on the floor everywhere. I still don’t have access to all my instruments and paper.
I use what I have access to. So this one is made with watercolor on canvas. Some canvases are made to take watercolor. I did the drawing on the wrong side, which is coarser, by mistake. I drew it late last night. And I used the softest pencils I have, Prismacolor. They are almost like oil pastels.
In a lot of my recent art there is a person there. I think it comes from the experience of living nowadays. Every experience that I have of the physical world is seen through the body and creates a response in the body. So the body is of interest. In this one there is also a sense of a place with some trees and fields. Everything become the same in importance. All are experienced and everything is viewed by the true self. You can slide lightly into the true self and be the true self for a while. You are extremely sensitive. You feel every little physical appearance. You feel the excitement of a child, wanting to touch everything. Being in a quiet awe, loving everything, wanting to see more, to play with it, to enjoy the good feeling of the person and everything in his world. All that appears looks like a miracle.
The physical world itself does not seem to have a lot of depth. It is just some shapes, some movements, in a shallow layer, doing all the miracles of the physical world, while floating above an infinite space. That’s where you really are. All of it and all that appears in it is you. This is where the depth is. Relish. Play. There is no better feeling than meeting with yourself.
Go deeper
Though you will find
Some human shapes
Go deeper
Though you will see
An orchard
Or a forest in the fall
Go deeper still
Though you may find
Flowers of the field
Go on
Pass them
Into the depths
And continue through the earth
And the whole milky way
Pass the fields of thoughts
The clouds of feelings
The pictures in your mind
And find
That you have arrived
Into yourself
That has no end
No beginning
And no name
From this
Make your body first
And know
That the world will come
For you
To play.
This is a small painting. Small ones are much quicker to finish. This one took half a day. It is one continuous process, even with its inner changes, from beginning to end.
This painting was done to describe a certain meditation. There is a meditation that goes like this: with closed eyes, I see what experiences are happening now. There are bodily sensations, sounds, I feel the air on my skin, thoughts, feelings, all these happen without effort. Effects are created and noted, the subconscious responds to all of them and brings about new thoughts and feelings. Then new things happen. And I watch.
When I look at all these, I end up catching my subconscious as it responds to what appears, and I don’t follow its ideas. The energy that I could give these ideas, by following them, is not given and without this energy the ideas cannot last long. This in itself is a meditation. I can watch how the events of my experiences become smaller and how, gradually, less of them show up, until they don’t appear any more.
But this is not what I do. Instead, I feel the inner space and I dive among the events. I avoid all of them and dive.
I am interested in how the space feels, so I give the space all the energy of my curiosity.
As I continue diving, the space opens more and I go on.
This is the meditation.
I go until there are no events happening around me.
In a way it is like the other meditation, but here I can imagine being more active and adventurous.
This painting came after the drawing and writing that are in the beginning of this entry.
So you can see that just drawing something and thinking about it, can bring you deeper into that direction.
In this way, all that you do is based on what you choose, out of your interest. You don’t jump into meditation because you think that it is good for you, and once you are engaged, you start having resistances, because the entry into the meditation was not natural. It was acting on an idea that came from outside. Someone said.
I am for freedom in every step.
Under the drawing lines there are only two shapes. One is yellow. One is multi colored. The drawing lines above the second, bigger shape, were used as borders among the colors. The drawing and the multi colored shape became glued to each other through this. They became one.
But from the top of the multi color shape, the drawing continued to go out into the world and play.
-Come back, drawing. Time for dinner.
-But it is so much better to play out here. Do you hear, Mama? The yellow shape shouts “Catch me!” But no, I’m not going to hold on to anything. -Shine on, yellow. Be free like me. Don’t worry Mama. We are going to have a good time, all of us. Look: I’ve already made some fruit!
-Oy vey, my child is leaving…
(This was my subconscious.)
I was born in Israel and my parents were idealistic pioneers. They built Israel from nothing, with all the others there of course. They wanted social justice, a place to live and grow their food, a place where they could have a country and a piece of land and they wanted their children to be born in a country with a house and a field. I drank idealism with my mother’s milk. (This was long ago. Now it is a bit more complicated there.)
I was an artist from young age. I went to study graphic design. In Graphic Design you make art that is used immediately. Then I was an illustrator. As an illustrator you illustrate children’s books, for children to grow up with good stories, with knowledge and love of the world about them, with a good taste in art, as it makes for a better life. And you illustrate for adults so that they will think in a different way and they will laugh…
Then I got involved with Buddhist meditation, and the idea was to know what I am, so that I’ll live my true life.
And indeed, once you start to know something you start teaching. What can be more important than helping others know what they are, so that their lives will be good, and truthful? And that they will be good people, help each other and create a wonderful world for all of us, and our offspring…
Then I went to study art therapy, so I would be able to help people get rid of what held them back from being what they were. To show them how to become free of inhibiting ideas and thrive, so that they can live happily and lovingly etc.
And I did all these. I was idealistic and practical.
Then I started to know that every one of us has his own world, created by his own consciousness. We do not live in the same world. Our worlds meet with each other and it looks as if it is one world, but it is not so.
You can’t create a meaningful change in any part of the reality that is around you in your world. If you want this reality to change, you have to change yourself. The new thoughts and beliefs that you will have will bring to you everything that fits this new state of mind. So I cannot change or help change the people who come to do therapy with me. In one view, they are part of my outside world. I have to change myself, and as a result another version of that person will appear in my world, which will be a match to the way I have become. From another view, the patient is in another world, where he is the only one who can make changes in his world, by changing himself.
I always thought that we all lived in the same world. That there was one person in front of me, who suffered, and I helped him release the suffering and live a better life. But no.
And I thought that making art was a good thing for other people, to widen and deepen their experience, to give them the experience of beauty that will help them live a more beautiful life, with love, with collaboration, with understanding…
Now I felt there was no sense in doing anything. I always had a purpose for doing things and I missed it.
It felt like depression.
Then I decided to ask August Moon about it.
August Moon is my inner guide. I have been connected with him for a while. He always answers. He is always there.
I asked and made a drawing, as I like to get the answers through the art. Sometimes I know through words, but if it is a big thing, I make art and read the answer in it. I just like it this way.
And as soon as I started making the art, I knew the answer. The lines in the drawing spoke to me with the energy that is in them:
The reason to do anything, to do all that you want to do, is not that there is a need for it. You are not doing it for any idealistic purpose. You do it because it is your nature to be interested in doing things. It is your nature to love. It is your nature to be curious, playful, peaceful, capable and creative. This nature is what you are and it is expressed by what you do. So you do, just because you are a natural expresser of yourself.
So, you see? There is no outside reason for me to be happy. I am happiness.
And how can this be depressed?
There are the lines and there are the color shapes. They seem to describe the same thing but they have very different perspectives.
Sometimes, in other paintings, the lines and the shapes do not necessarily describe the shame thing. If we compare this to music, then those paintings are like counterpoint. The lines have a tune and the color shapes have a different tune. But when they are placed on top of each other, the music makes sense. The music becomes richer by the working together of different tunes.
This painting is more like a tune with chords. The chords accompany the tune that the lines make.
If we look at the lines, trying to see the character of the tune, in my opinion, it is hesitant, even afraid somewhat. It tries to describe something but we cannot identify what it is. In a way it is like what toddlers do sometimes, when they pretend to be writing words and sentences but they don’t yet know how to write. So the lines only looks as if they are describing shapes. There is humor in that.
Now if we look at the color shapes, they don’t seem to be worried at all. They seem to be happy. They come together to share an activity and while playing together they keep their independence and individual identities. They seem to be playful and enjoying the game that they play.
If we describe the music here, it may be something like this: on the background of freely moving pleasant chords, the tune is hesitant. Its parts hold on to each other as if they are afraid to fall apart. There is no sense of freedom in the tune. It seems to be working hard, trying to fulfill some duty or necessity. It is a bit ridiculous in its efforts to describe everything in detail while it is impossible to decipher what it describes.
The chords in this piece of music are strange. They are a mixture of pleasant and unpleasant feelings.
I actually like that kind of music.
But if this were the description of a person, what would you want to tell him?
Maybe it will be, to let go of some of the seriousness with which it takes the story line, and give some attention to the deeper layer of himself, where the playfulness, freedom and maybe even the beauty of life’s experiences can be felt. This layer is so close…
But the story won’t stop. And we are here for the story, aren’t we?
So maybe it is possible to take some of the character of the inner layers of who we are and bring it with us outside, when we create the lines of our stories. Maybe we will then make lines that are a bit freer and happier than before?
Mooji showed up in front of me, when I was going through videos to enjoy but I moved on every time. Now I stopped and let him speak. He is like an old friend that I love deeply. So my heart opens. What will he say now?
In everything that he says and in the way he moves, I feel that-infinite-space attending, just like my own one right now. I realize that I came to like the taste of this state. It starts to be familiar.
And he says that when a troublesome event comes up and we have a shock, a fear, or we are being shockingly and fearfully agitated, the thing to do is to find the quiet spot that is always there too, and go into this, stay in this.
And this is what this reminds me of:
When both of Segovia’s parents died and he was left alone in his world, he was some six years old, or maybe less. He was very sad, and I am crying for this sadness now because I feel some of it. Somehow there was someone there who knew what to do. He or she put Segovia (little Andre) on the train with all his belongings and sent him to his grandfather in another city.
Grandpa took him from the station and brought him home. For Segovia this was a strange person who he did not know. Grandpa sat Segovia on a chair and sat himself on another chair facing Segovia and in his hands he had his guitar. Segovia did not play guitar yet.
Grandpa made a chord.
Segovia cried.
Grandpa made another cord.
Segovia cried more.
And so they went. Grandpa played chords and Segovia cried, until Segovia smiled.
This was his introduction to his grandpa. And this is what brought the guitar to his life. And it was also his introduction to that different love that comes with insight and cannot be broken.
You see? Whatever life brought, whatever emotional response he had, he went to this direct-no-story effect of the sounds and this became his quiet spot. Maybe at first he did not even perceive the sweetness of the chord. Eventually he fell in love with it.
Maybe you do not immediately feel the huge, deeply joyful, childishly curious, absolutely peaceful character of the inner peace. But with many visits it becomes inevitable that the taste will come through. And there will be a sweet love that has just awakened in your heart, that will take you there again and again and it will be your home, the only place where there is no contradiction whatsoever between you and the place. And with no contradiction, you are the place and the place is you. And so it goes for everything.
(As for the story about Segovia, I hope it is close enough to the truth. I heard it on public radio long ago. The details may have been somewhat different but the core is true.)
Being tired and in pain I became sad. Pain is a simple thing but living with it creates additional problems. Now all of them weighed on me. I thought: I can’t go on like this any more. I did not even paint yesterday and today.
My friend from Germany called. We started to talk and the phone line went dead.
I pulled a new piece of paper onto the table, dipped the brush into the water and into the first paint that my eyes saw in the watercolor box. It was olive green. This is how I choose the first color.
And then there was the drawing. No time. No pain. Brush, water, paint and the composition, the story with no words. The energy of the truth. Everything is good.
The olive green lines and the white of the paper are the best of friends. It is a holy connection. The lines, strikingly, appearing out of the white. The white does not have inside and outside. It is everywhere. It is all-there-is-everywhere. Even the word everywhere does not fit here. Is the green line real? And my eyes that see it: are they real? And my heart that has just become so full and so delighted, what about it?
(The other colors came later.)
Now in a different way:
Pain is part of the illusion of life, together with the body, with time, with good and bad.
The true self cannot have pain. Its essence is joy. Its essence is love and playing and being curious. The true self cannot be affected by the illusion.
For the “I” in the illusion pain is real and hard.
The good thing is that everything is connected. All I need to do is to change the way I focus and switch my identity to the true I.
Instead of focusing on the pain and automatically trying to escape it, to fight it, to prevent it, to change it, Instead of these, I find my curiosity and make the olive green lines. I find my playfulness and play with everything that shows itself. I look for the beauty in everything and find it easily. I look for my joy and it is right there. I am joyful. I look for my love and indeed what else do I have? This is how I start to identify with the true self.
And as I do this, I find that I have forgotten the pain. I don’t even feel it. Or if I do, it is not significant. I am in peace. The vibrations of the pain, the waves that streamed through the legs calm down. My hands that clutched one foot fall down, relaxed. The body rests. The energy of creation flows flawlessly everywhere it has to go. The body heals. The specific thinking processes that hold on to the body and its suffering become weaker. I am not so dependent on the body and the world around it. I witness them and I am free. In my mind I am already walking down to town, where the galleries are. I am going to see an exhibition. Right foot, left foot and I dance.
intuitiveflow 