A RING OF STONES

Stone, dense to hold in a hand’s grasp,

forming in present mindfulness.

To plant night-scented flowers,

in a circle of stones.

Some sort of portal

fills the field of vision,

to modify with no mind,

like a time window.

Washed clean by rain,

translated into pixels.

Archaic icon for meditation,

empty of all but earth.

In the fullness of nothing,

womb-like and contained.

Obscurely gestating,

inwardly the seed.

Till time takes flight

through the round window.

Over ancient future lands,

and eternities expand.

Imagination forms in folds,

fields, fallows left unfarmed,

and all is one infinity,

without a stain of industry.

Scrying in the magic mirror,

glimpse of when the dark cloud clears.

All that is defiled will wither,

when abundance reappears. ~

 ~~~~   ~~~~   ~~~~

 The Time Window.  (Painting.)  July 24. 
Starting with stones and soil, delineating contours with deep raw umber.  Encircling every molecular particle by hand and the feel of a fine brush tip.  Densifying the diversity of illuminatory texture in both the macro and micro.

With the faintest dilution of neutral greenish wash and wiping brush tip on tissue, proceeding with precision through fields and folds.

Pausing mesmerized between sleeping and eating, to photoshoot stage one of paint process.  Framing the focus for concentrated vision energy through the time window.

Three months passed since the previous painting.  Till a distant detail in The Stone Woman picture blended with the ring of stones in the garden.

Evoking in the empty mirror of imaginal mind, within a medicine womb circle ring, each white stone shape filled, washed with its own sculpted tonal ideograph.

Entering the ring and proceeding to scroll down the sky in measured bands of soft-tone grey, fine tone tuned.  Far cloud banks fade to streamlined mythical mystic horizons, where the pure whiteness recedes along a ribbon line.

 Fumbling to focus the exact tell-tale hint, that familiar blue-grey hue of distance, and a single line becomes a squeezed down horizon of far-away hills.

Where the blue-grey meets the furthest fields, entering the fringe edge of the tapestry, that first thin band contains a concentrate of the graphic glyph for skyline.

Distances are like ancient archetypes and glimpses of the Promised Land.  The further away the more mysterious and inviting.  Punctuated by rows of vague forms like notes along a stave, registering as tree-shape silhouettes to infinity.

Out under high muted skies and embedded and bonded in the biosphere, one with the vast patchwork network.  Wide central plains and puzzle pieces of panoramic pasture.

In silver singing silence, recalibrating colour combinations of enclosures like stained glass, modifying in the mode of rustic integration, fine-tuning tonalities contemplated in a quilted continuum.

Being a crazy abstract collusion of slumbering Neolithic gold and regalias of Gaelic green.  Resting to reconsider interrelated juxtapositions within the equation of wholeness.  Meticulous and mindfully modifying in silence of full attention transcending sub-vocal monologue.

Night-owling for nine nights and days, going slow, enhancing and enriching methodically without haste outside time, and augmenting what happens to emerge.

Winding up to finer and finer accounting-fors with endless gazings and dotting the details.  Stuttering down to stillness and a sigh of matt varnish.

Despite the odd hiccup quite a smooth flight.  Forging a shield in a Gaelic night.  Sublime earth-face icon simultaneously a sacred symbol of celebration, honouring Earth in the early light.

An abundance of energy focussed and sustained, contained, in a ring of stones.  May making the stones ring, resonate and resound, take flight. “ Go viral, Icon of Organic Light ! “~

               ~~~~   ~~~~   ~~~~
                 Martin Rainbowmaker.