|What is a divination drawing?||Home||Free email subscription|
|Opening now to the possibilities of spring, feeling the energy to write, knowing I will have to push myself to grow, risking bad grammar, and not knowing what the voice will say, from my small studio facing the outside world, I plant, fertilize, and water the seeds of the creative process and share what blooms.|
|The symbol of the cycle, a flower opening, a representation of cyclical time, or expanding time, or maybe just the illusion of time, seemingly spinning, overlapping, but really fully formed from the beginning, coming to fruition in our experience, and any movement we perceive is just a story in our minds pretending to be figuring the whole thing out.|
|I'm working night and day to understand why my theory of reality requires cycles.|
|Radical uncertainty - just how many minds can coexist?|
|Building up to something...|
marked by growth,
resonance of ages,
called a home,
fragility heightens my appreciation,
possibly present but not permanent,
how precious a mix,
temporality and love.
|Meditating as a method of expanding the present moment.|
|Everything to celebrate|
|My view changes my reality.|
It was late afternoon when I took my seat at the drawing table and picked up my 9H. I was not inspired today. I relied on self discipline and I stuck to my plan: be quiet and allow my hand to move.
As my mind settled I became aware of a self-critical inner dialog making fun of my scribbling, decrying the waste of paper, the waste of time, the worthlessness of the effort, and the insubstantial results. The inner voice becoming exasperated, emotions signaling surrender, arm muscles pulling my hand from the page, I was on the verge of tossing away the card in a rage when, through the anger, and despite my best effort to deny the process, a flower bloomed.
|Mistaking the imaginary for the real.|
Fleeting spring hardly arrived,
Interpenetration of life in minutes,
And the rapid ride home.
|Smelling spring today, warm full-on life, intermixed scents of growth and decay, triggering youthful memories, sending me into deep reflections on time, and I notice how my body feels nestled between seasons, carried along through the years at high speed.|
Cycles get cloudy,
solid plans dissolve,
nothing is resolved.
|Feedback, self-reference, turbulence, introspection, chasing my tail, remembering to breathe.|
|Exploring new territory. Testing boundaries. Mapping novelty.|
|Loving every bit of the warm late spring.|
|An introspective moment on a roadtrip to DC.|
|Not separate from home.|
|All the books talk about 'letting go' and 'you should just let go' but it doesn't work for me so I'm just not trying anymore.|