They say much of the world’s great art, whether it’s painting or
writing, comes from the immeasurable moods, particularly the depressive ones,
of the artist. Hemingway, Van Gogh, and others. To find your depth of humanity
and connection to the rest of earthly bipeds within the dark shadows is a feat
unto itself. We’ve all been there, but most of us ignore it, or even moreso
escape it – drugs, alcohol, or any number of methods.
From my frame of mind, it’s amazing to me that this dark place can draw
so much into existence on a canvas, whether expressed with sounds, colors, or
words. While I don’t follow the path of distraction within those dark places, I
don’t seem to know that place artists draw from.
Within my world, my best comes from a different place. It’s that same
profound center of the soul we find, but sparked in light, in love. The
condition Rumi or Hafiz found themselves in when putting to voice, and word, a
richness of the beauty of life.
This piece is an experiment in that. When I write, it’s from a place of
clarity and inspiration. An idea percolated over time, and then expressed in a
flow. I’m not in that place – I’m lost in another terrain. One of swirling
energies, streaks of color flowing across my being. Up and down my spine, big
whooshes through my heart, charges of power in my belly, tingles circling the
groin – streaking to another. A coincidence of momentum and reflection shared
with a partner miles away. Focus and clarity are nowhere to be found.
If Van Gogh could paint within his misery and Rumi could write in his
ecstasy, could I do it? What would spring forth? Letting the inspiration and
vitalities within and across space be the muse. What would it say?
The world is ablaze with wonder. A roaring sunrise, trees raining abundance, animals inspiring curiosity – and connections of all kinds breathing us. A steady flow of in and out, like air into the lungs. Into the soul and heart and body, circulating like the oceans within us. Rolling about, waves caressing here and there, or crashing into walls. Then like a great release, it all changes again, moving outward.
We only need to be aware. Feeling with our amazing senses that guide us
in this world. Letting each sensation blossom, revealing itself as another
follows after. Opening to be seen. Even more is to tune into another set of energies.
Subtle energies. The seven discs that spin and connect. Nerve flows and rhythms
of their own. Kundalini dynamics. The rise and fall of each breath and all its
nuances. Goosebumps and tingles seemingly from another world. And more.
Beyond our own being is the richness of the connection between beings.
Friends, lovers, family. The animals we hold dear. Plants that offer us shade,
others that provide nourishment or medicine, some grace us with their beauty.
So many ways to bond. The combinatorics grow quickly, revealing its own menu of
possibility to feel. Not just to feel – to revel in. To discover bliss and joy.
The threads to a lover are of another style and form. Imagine two suns
shining on each other. So many hues and flavors. An ecstatic reverie gales the
body and heart and more. Harmonies find each other as they are meant to.
Synchronistic waves entrain upon each other. Each being magnifying arriving
life before mirroring and returning them, heightening body bliss – leaving the
mind, thoughts, and focus elsewhere, maybe to return at another time.
Awareness. Sensitivity. Gifts everyone has, but few truly enjoy at this
realm. Practice, listen, look, observe, feel. There’s more to this world than
meets the senses!
An experiment. Revealing in its own. A muse of the self of the world reflecting back for all. Praise be to the artists who thrive from the dark. For my side, I’ll dive into the dark wholly. Then return and rise to share the grace and beauty of effortless imaginations of divine realms.
