|What is a divination drawing?||Home||Free email subscription|
|Hawaiian trees talk story.|
|A long day at the beach thinking, "If I'm present, here and now, then this IS life."|
|Just sitting. And when the world opened, I saw a connection between materials and location.|
|Aloha windward Oahu...|
|Awake in the dream. Transporting to another dimension of space, time, and temperature. What is different and what hasn't changed?|
|A different degree of blue...|
Single pointed concentration
or the thought that isn't thinking.
|I'm looking back to a posting almost exactly 3 months ago, October 12, 2013 when I could see the future. I knew that I would not be able to resume regular studio work until now; and today, Monday, January 13, I begin again in the studio. Rusty, disorganized, but ready to meet the new expansion...|
Will the rhythm of the ocean,
Call me to practice,
Wave after wave?
Dreaming of the past,
Pointing to the future,
Pushing the present aside.
|Light snow early.|
|Rule of three|
Mid-winter sun slides sideways,
I notice, this perfect day,
More or less light every moment.
Winter Storm Watch, In Effect
|Six hours in the city, surrounded by art, and one quiet moment to draw.|
Being present with the cold,
Exploring the seasonal contraction,
Observing the extraordinary power of freezing,
And taking time to visit the fire.
Sitting in the studio today,
With my mind on the natural solitude,
The natural introspection,
That winter brings.
A seed appears to me on the page,
Not as a symbol for spring, I think,
Not asking me to imagine the plant it might grow into,
Or making any indication of expansion whatsoever.
The seed is present in the world as it is,
A thing in the ground,
Small layered compact inner life,
Just spending its winter being a seed.
|No matter how much it may plan for the future or fret about the past, the seed in the ground does not have to do anything or go anywhere. It only has to be present for the correct surrounding conditions.|
|Working through emotions after the fact.|
Brown stalks that
won't last past winter
bow to the sun and
recite a benediction
while tiny birds
eat the seeds
still on the branches
When I grow,
I run into flaws
that point to who I am.
When I am,
I point to growth
that runs into flaws.
When I flaw,
I am pointless.
That is growing.