On Tue, Jul 31, 2012 at 12:37 AM,
Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com>
wrote:
A
Path of Beauty.
Purposely chose a title that's not rational left brain, but intuitional right brain. Also because it has thirteen letters. Intuition says it's lucky. The untrusting literal left brain has fearfully omitted the number from streets and high rise floors.
"When precious gems hang from the plough,
to peaceful arts shall envy bow." William Blake said that. And i just heard it inwardly. Wisdom and beauty walk hand in hand. Nothing to do with gender. It's about modes of awareness. Imagination is not 'just your imagination.'
The planet spawns us and all we do. So who's imagination is being expressed here? Ours or hers? Like there's an invisible world war. Invisible only if you're coming from a brain and not a heart. And the brain people propagate a mode of being that dominates, to the degree that we don't operate with the light of our intuitive right switched on.
Artistic language. Express delivery. My arrows are antidote tipped. An 'antidote' is not an animal, as much as it may sound like one. And 'art' is the largest part of 'heart'. Both Blake and Hendrix sang of 'arrows of desire' and they were both Sagittarians. Wild stamina and questing far horizons.
What to express (?) is not 'nothing to express.' It's the deep reservoir of fertile potential and how we tune the kaleidoscope to the muse of the mode of the moment.
Art is not 'artifice', or 'artificial', or 'arty-farty', or 'artful'. That's just 'clever', 'contrived', 'conceited', and 'calculated'. Art is not priceless objects or private ego decoration gone public at a price.
Art is playful discipline of a mode of perception that's so in the flow that the discipline seems to dissolve in artless magical manifestation.
Like, you don't jump start a running stream, you just need a good channel. It's a receptive process.
It's like waiting in the long grass with your inner ears open. More fox savvy than just being out standing in your field. (Pun lethally intended.) Not that i'd harm a fox.
'What to express', means, out of a multitude of modes depending on where you point your lighthouse. Revolution of your lamp illuminates and enlightens how much of your heart is in your perception. Visioning, seeing with your heart, reveals more of the world that's already present as your perception, because you feel through the so called senses.
Imagination is in how much more vividly you dare imagine it's possible to see. What your beam projects, heart wise, is what you get. Beauty is in the heart vision of the beholder. It's an uncynical open curiosity that fine tunes the Earth emanation in it's mystical mode no matter what changing mood of weather.
Eyes of love are finer frequencies in action. But it's subtle. It's not Hollywood. It's feel with wild animal senses more of what's present. Without the static of internal chatter.
It's not like a big blast of projected sentiment. It's more like not missing the slightest whisper of leaves on a sudden soft breeze and what that seems to say. With such constant first and second attention the undulating impulse to expression follows as naturally as the breathing breeze. It's a very quiet thing.
That's where the discipline is. Very quiet attention. Inner tension is inattention. Worth repeating. Inner tension is inattention. Hush....!
If you want to see a peaceful world, be quiet. Shut up! Shut up but remain open. Open heart, silent mind. Attention remains. A clear medium for the spontaneous darting shoals of mind-movement-waves of subtle inspiration. Contemplating the random intelligent dance of butterfly and bee. Starlings startled lift aloft as one and ,gone. It's all in the fine tuning, augment me that.
What to express is what is uppermost in the moment. Which means living in the mode of listening. To yourself. There's no method. You make one.
"See a world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wild flower. Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour."That's Blake again. He won't shut up.
"Who to himself would bind a joy, does the wing-ed life destroy. Who kisses the joy as it flies, dwells in eternity's sunrise." Thanks Bill.
But you see what he's singing about. Total TAO and nothing else.
Impossible to scratch the surface of this topic. Which is not a topic unless i make it one which i do. And anyway it doesn't have a surface but for that which emerges and falls back into itself. So how would you ever bring that up to scratch?
This is still an article about art, that's why it's called an article. An artistic canticle if you're that way inclined. Makes more sense than a cantistic article. Whether you happen to be Prothelic or Catestant or an Apiarist or an Artist. There's nutrition enough for anybody. Just have to read between the lines, carefree as they seem. It's a seem-free universe.
Without a living imagination you're a robot. Robots can't imagine doing anything different from what they're told. So before you put your ipad on an altar, know you're not a robot. The flittering fish have got more cop-on. Put a goldfish bowl on your altar instead. It's considered lucky and you learn a lot from a goldfish. The TAO again. Can't fake naturalness. Not trying to be natural is an art.
A path of beauty is a valid path to walk. Has literally nothing to do with cosmetics, fashion, stereotypes, pretentious ego, or conventional thinking. Beauty is the way things are. Seen in their just-so-ness.
This is just one turn of an infinite kaleidoscope. !woW
I'll give it another turn in a while. And the path continues who knows where. It's a long path, but you're always just where you are, so what's length got to do with it? Just continue in the timeless continuum. ~~ ><><><><><><><><><><><>< rainbowmaker/
Purposely chose a title that's not rational left brain, but intuitional right brain. Also because it has thirteen letters. Intuition says it's lucky. The untrusting literal left brain has fearfully omitted the number from streets and high rise floors.
"When precious gems hang from the plough,
to peaceful arts shall envy bow." William Blake said that. And i just heard it inwardly. Wisdom and beauty walk hand in hand. Nothing to do with gender. It's about modes of awareness. Imagination is not 'just your imagination.'
The planet spawns us and all we do. So who's imagination is being expressed here? Ours or hers? Like there's an invisible world war. Invisible only if you're coming from a brain and not a heart. And the brain people propagate a mode of being that dominates, to the degree that we don't operate with the light of our intuitive right switched on.
Artistic language. Express delivery. My arrows are antidote tipped. An 'antidote' is not an animal, as much as it may sound like one. And 'art' is the largest part of 'heart'. Both Blake and Hendrix sang of 'arrows of desire' and they were both Sagittarians. Wild stamina and questing far horizons.
What to express (?) is not 'nothing to express.' It's the deep reservoir of fertile potential and how we tune the kaleidoscope to the muse of the mode of the moment.
Art is not 'artifice', or 'artificial', or 'arty-farty', or 'artful'. That's just 'clever', 'contrived', 'conceited', and 'calculated'. Art is not priceless objects or private ego decoration gone public at a price.
Art is playful discipline of a mode of perception that's so in the flow that the discipline seems to dissolve in artless magical manifestation.
Like, you don't jump start a running stream, you just need a good channel. It's a receptive process.
It's like waiting in the long grass with your inner ears open. More fox savvy than just being out standing in your field. (Pun lethally intended.) Not that i'd harm a fox.
'What to express', means, out of a multitude of modes depending on where you point your lighthouse. Revolution of your lamp illuminates and enlightens how much of your heart is in your perception. Visioning, seeing with your heart, reveals more of the world that's already present as your perception, because you feel through the so called senses.
Imagination is in how much more vividly you dare imagine it's possible to see. What your beam projects, heart wise, is what you get. Beauty is in the heart vision of the beholder. It's an uncynical open curiosity that fine tunes the Earth emanation in it's mystical mode no matter what changing mood of weather.
Eyes of love are finer frequencies in action. But it's subtle. It's not Hollywood. It's feel with wild animal senses more of what's present. Without the static of internal chatter.
It's not like a big blast of projected sentiment. It's more like not missing the slightest whisper of leaves on a sudden soft breeze and what that seems to say. With such constant first and second attention the undulating impulse to expression follows as naturally as the breathing breeze. It's a very quiet thing.
That's where the discipline is. Very quiet attention. Inner tension is inattention. Worth repeating. Inner tension is inattention. Hush....!
If you want to see a peaceful world, be quiet. Shut up! Shut up but remain open. Open heart, silent mind. Attention remains. A clear medium for the spontaneous darting shoals of mind-movement-waves of subtle inspiration. Contemplating the random intelligent dance of butterfly and bee. Starlings startled lift aloft as one and ,gone. It's all in the fine tuning, augment me that.
What to express is what is uppermost in the moment. Which means living in the mode of listening. To yourself. There's no method. You make one.
"See a world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wild flower. Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour."That's Blake again. He won't shut up.
"Who to himself would bind a joy, does the wing-ed life destroy. Who kisses the joy as it flies, dwells in eternity's sunrise." Thanks Bill.
But you see what he's singing about. Total TAO and nothing else.
Impossible to scratch the surface of this topic. Which is not a topic unless i make it one which i do. And anyway it doesn't have a surface but for that which emerges and falls back into itself. So how would you ever bring that up to scratch?
This is still an article about art, that's why it's called an article. An artistic canticle if you're that way inclined. Makes more sense than a cantistic article. Whether you happen to be Prothelic or Catestant or an Apiarist or an Artist. There's nutrition enough for anybody. Just have to read between the lines, carefree as they seem. It's a seem-free universe.
Without a living imagination you're a robot. Robots can't imagine doing anything different from what they're told. So before you put your ipad on an altar, know you're not a robot. The flittering fish have got more cop-on. Put a goldfish bowl on your altar instead. It's considered lucky and you learn a lot from a goldfish. The TAO again. Can't fake naturalness. Not trying to be natural is an art.
A path of beauty is a valid path to walk. Has literally nothing to do with cosmetics, fashion, stereotypes, pretentious ego, or conventional thinking. Beauty is the way things are. Seen in their just-so-ness.
This is just one turn of an infinite kaleidoscope. !woW
I'll give it another turn in a while. And the path continues who knows where. It's a long path, but you're always just where you are, so what's length got to do with it? Just continue in the timeless continuum. ~~ ><><><><><><><><><><><>< rainbowmaker/
artwork
: Cosmic Daisies, martin law, September 2003
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