CHIVES IN BLOOM

(A painting poem.)

From ancient futures and imaginings of the land bathed in the breath of eternity and a thousand years of peace. Pushing the envelope of big white clouds, pondering how to paint timelessness without producing predictable platitudes.

 

In response the black moon in passing crossing the Chiron point and triggering feeling for healing wounds as within so without, reflecting as reality and right on four degrees of Taurus and my natal sun.

A swirl of temporal turbulence in the continuum with its snares and snags of linear paradoxical duality in comparing the vision with the mundane and falling for the illusory measurer of time as if it were a ruler.

Time being where memory and imagination meet as if in the non-moment of now and not going anywhere, just changing form. While chanting a silent inner mantra of ‘mother earth help me raise my energy to align with your rising vibrations.’ Thirteen being no doubt luckier than we were told to believe.

Freak weather around the globe and nothing on the news but gold rush. Tornadoes and flash floods through all latitudes longitudes and parallels. Watching ‘2016 is strange’ on the computer. Epidemics of articulated juggernaut trucks swallowed up by potholes, cars toppled by torrents swept away along with the ‘mainstream news’, from Europa to Asia and a lurid backdrop of lava flows fuelling forest fires beyond control.

In the infinite vastness of everywhere happening forever without boundaries where all rulers whether clocks or cliques, temporal, technological, or human, are ludicrous and laughable, manifestly unmeasurable as mind is one with the multiverse.

Purple lupins, foxgloves, lilacs in the garden nod and bloom. A gentle rain passing softly sprinkles flourishing beds out the back and a green renaissance resonates in harmony with chives in full bloom.

Which in pottering becomes the focus of a shot, and the same sweet clean lilac colour of chives and green becomes the theme. Commonplace and seemingly composed like Vincent might have seen and painted in a healing dream.

With all complexity pared down to a soft pencil point then abandoning altogether the niggles of measure for a bold bristle brush as if prompted by Van Gogh and lightly brushed at leisure.

First take took just a day, just the bare essentials, though will it stay that way? At least it has potential. Something was still missing, the essence needs enhancing.

The highlights on the blooms and other small corrections, intensify the focus but not labour to perfection.

A timely right brain therapy with minimal modifications. Just a weave of leaves and blooms, a sense of integration. A shift from taking the world to heart, through art as meditation.

Healing of wounds from the inside out, seems to be what this is about. Whatever one thinks about just grows, manifests as the world in front of your nose.

So i take a break from having to rhyme, as even that keeps you stuck in time. A change must have happened as none too soon, three kindred friends gathered in my room, a healing connection and chives in bloom. *

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Martin Rainbowmaker.