When
the non-verbal insight arose by itself: ‘A rope is a flexible
continuity which can be used for forward progress (leading, lifting,
pulling, climbing,) or, contrarily, to bind something in place
preventing progress.’
Not
only that. When a rope turns on itself (enough to throw anything for
a loop) yet insists on going through with it with forward intent, it
meets a snag called appropriately ‘a knot’, which already sounds
like a negation of progress.
If
it does it again it’s in a double bind, which is fine if the
intention is to bind. We’ve all tied our shoelaces enough times to
not even have to think about it. But with inspiration, having been
there enough times to train myself to be passionately dispassionate
about seeming to be at the end of my rope, yet not making it a tug of
war.
Better
to pause, and neither push nor pull on the delusory conflict between
complimentary poles, and not settle for another double bind. The
battle of black and white and other silly loop-tapes.
To
not turn on yourself as if you were a worm, sending you for a loop,
yet still persisting no matter how patiently impatient, such being
the nature of waiting. Whatever about religion, from the Latin
‘religare’ meaning, ‘to bind back’, which doesn’t sound
very liberating and which may or may not have been its original
intention.
Better
still the unravelling, a mini- revelation. Trace back, revealing
what you did, but without turning on yourself a second time, and with
no loss of passion to heal the ‘not-happening’, simply un-do,
comprehending the process inwardly.
Conscientious
compulsion to self-forgive, may also still mask a ‘turning on
yourself’, until it doesn’t. A snag is only a not-happening till
it’s unravelled. We grow by correcting mis-takes, which otherwise
plummet to the pole we call evil when we refuse to see and instead,
justify and persist. We’ve all untied our shoelaces enough times.
Persisting
without deviation is what may be called a straight line, and we are
culturally coerced to deify straight lines. Which, as we were told,
are the shortest distance between two points. Which may be so as the
crow flies or on paper, or driving across flat terrain. But in a
wiggly world such conclusions are questionable. You could fall
asleep from monotony, run out of fuel, or die of thirst.
Besides,
all answers are questionable. Being conclusions (endings) they put
an end to further enquiry free of already biased assumption. In
looking for answers and building a life on them, we might well have
continued to evolve further by forming and refining more intelligent
questions.
Why
settle for answers when you can ask questions? Belief is ‘choosing
to assume’, it’s not-knowing. Another knot. Only when you know
you don’t know will you attempt to learn and grow.
Not
to mention corners, which are the inevitable result of straight
lines. Most of the self-evidently alien intrusion in the natural
world is the insistence on straight lines, roads, buildings, weapons,
the ‘cornerstone’ of which, being ‘economics’: All ‘nomics’
with no regard for ‘eco-systems’.
Corners
are a binary system, alien to our essence as one-with wiggly nature,
and nature abhors a ninety degree angle. Corners conveniently
replicate as grids, a superimposition of cages within cages of
blocked negative energy. Grids are graphs to control and inhibit
free flow of natural energy. Alien to nature and taken for granted.
Imagine straight intestines, you’d really be in the... system where
you’re blocked at every turn.
To
return to wiggly lines in lieu of inspiration, and my previous
painting PRESENCE OF OAK. A friend suggested that a version with
black lines instead of brown would work well, as with recent works,
and i noted that could well be so.
Curiosity
and desire to paint prompted me to transform the existing painting
rather than repeat the process. Possibly enhance, evolve, and enrich
it in doing so. Sometimes you can take things further when you have
something already formed to work with.
So
i decided to see if it felt right. A relatively minor challenge for
sure but one that suits my style, and after it ‘not working’ for
quite a while, i was ultimately far from being disappointed.
Having
for a lifetime explored many inner avenues away from early
revelations related to a certain subtle integration of form-enhancing
black incisive line. With intent not to emphasize boundaries knowing
none exist.
Yet,
paradoxically, in delicately daring to define form, it is
demonstrated that ‘difference is what everything has in common’,
hence the richness revealed. The original revelations of which as i
well recall prompted me to sing in appreciation.
After
all, who owns your garden fence, you or your neighbour? Or if you
take sides, is the bulk of it then shared? Or, if you must have
definitive answers to such knotty questions as, “how is everything
one while apparently separate?” Which qualifies as “a good
question.” Then frame it like this: “Distinctness is the surest
sign of underlying unity.” Relationally speaking. Everything is a
network of distinct interrelationships.
As
in art, so with everything, and that’s saying a lot. The part is
not apart from the whole. Wholes don’t have separate parts that’s
why they’re whole. They only seem to when we distinguish
distinctions, needing to draw a line somewhere between the loved and
the not loved.
The
oaks return, along with vision, and every-thing is recreated new as
it ever was, one-with a wild and wiggly world, and today is Winter
Solstice. Silently celebrating the cyclic return of solar self-same
celestial light. *
***
*** *** ***
Martin
Rainbowmaker.
