Behemoths etc.

On 2 June 2013 14:44, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

Impressive blog post. A most mind manifesting 'leviathonic' oasis pool image loaded with elemental faces and Buddhas, amazing thanks.

I hope i'm going to squeeze in my string of leviathonic photos which are also awesome.

On 23 May 2013 23:57, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

progress report}~ In Tray.

Back from hunting Behemoths and Leviathans in the twilight.  Shot a good few . . . a school of sombre whale shapes of behemoths (Could they really be he moths?) and leviathans slumbering after sunset.

 

The short version of that is, i went out to the point in a chilly blast of north and the batteries were flat. "PTFK!" i said. Persisted and came back and put in new batteries and finished off the coffee and went back out, it being twilight and more celtically appropriate and got some impressive dark slumbering mountains, islands, battleship grey sea, and moody dragon clouds high in the limpid crepuscular vault.  Just as i imagined and LEVIATHONICAL enough.  All neatly horizontal and plumb straight.

Earlier, decided i want a card table and went out to Kramers and got one better than that with folding metal legs.  Admittedly was 39 euros (35 to me) but thought it was more useful than a bit of paper with squiggles, realizing that any flat thing with legs is a table.

Wonder, maybe should go to bed 'early' tonight.  Market people start ridiculous early and thins out after 4.  Not supposed to rain though but was cold this evening.  Just enough water for the morning so it's rice cakes and peanut butter for dinner.  That's healthy enough though, especially for ABpositive.

So my 'elder' advice would be ... 'whatever'.  You know, the best laid plans of my sand men.

No sweat.  No need to iron a moment when it's unfolding.  "He does nothing but nothing is left undone" as the Tao says.  Probably true, hard to write a simple message without it morphing into another blog post.

Tomorrow is Kim's geburtstag and i thought, how the hell do you say happy birthday without it just sounding like a birthday greeting, she's pretty adept at it.

So i sat down and just poured out a whole scroll in pink capitals with barely a dot of syntax.  Maybe i'll post it, not wishing to be boring but i found it fun.

Researching Jan Kerouac there's a photo somewhere of Jack's book 'On The Road', the original typed manuscript.  All on one big typewriter roll, originally reputed to be with zero punctuation.  Some proofreader had their work cut out!

Good we've got blog material stacked up.  I'd like to take up painting.  Some of the behemoths are very canvas like.

A progress report like this would get me fired in the old world, and did.  That's how i'm still able to do it.

Yours sincerely~

Camera : martin law photos -
hunting Behemoths and Leviathans in the twilight, 21:33-22:07, 23 MAY 2013

panplay by re-quest : "seers'reality" i

Camera :  martin law photo - garden, 16:14, 19 JUNE 2013
art-work : digital panplay, "seers'reality" i, JUN13 - wfp for moo

Rainbow Bubble

On 15 June 2013 20:57, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

>>>> 

        RAINBOW BUBBLE COMPLETED
*

art :  rainbow bubble, martin law, june 2013

EDEN REVISITED

A GARDEN PLANET

Tracing a rainbow bubble

RAINBOW BUBBLE~ Phase 2

WET PAINT

On 14 June 2013 14:48, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

..... am immersed in paint and it's blithery and wet out and i was improvising organically all night till 5 in my acrylic ivory tower element tusk tusk... groggy and grooming for a quick canoe trip to the post office and pay a refuse collection garbage bill punting for euros and carrying water in the 45 degree angle torrential and eating oats and raisins in a squeaky plastic mac, while in the imagination ‘fish are jumping and the cotton is high’ and it's 2.30 already so i'd say the market in wet cork is all sodden sparse and saggy and with the canvas flapping in mind i can't wait to get back before i've gone but there’s a surprise in store when you see the new phogotraphs i've taken with the magical digital shadow catcher which seems to be able to read my mind in service to the resurgence of flower power where i wander gazing up at the tall exotic lupin pagodas towering against a lilac sky so my mission after a brief raid on the post office is to return to the state of the art and send a few bunches of pixels and power plants for the blog post,
typically having to go out when i’m in the insistent flow and learning a lot about my idiosyncratic brushwork and how it ripens by itself so i'll just shut up and tie my laces and brave the elephants.
Ah the wild luxury of frugal aesthetics which calleth me back to pick up the brush where i dropped off at dawn...! interspersed as always with coffee breaks and acoustic strings strumming to keep the generator humming chanting humming and so saying i predict there will be more.
Love, MOP. (Ministry Of Paint.)

Camera :  the grate outdoors, martin law, june 2013

RAINBOW BUBBLE~ Phase 2.

On 12 June 2013 15:57, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

RAINBOW BUBBLE~ Phase 2.

[Tracing a rainbow bubble ~ Phase 1 - ed]

Intending to send, in a while, photo just taken of phase 2. of painting in progress.  Sharing the process with this description, (i wasn't always so methodical).

The elements of drawing, simplified, consist of:

1. CONTOUR OUTLINE.

2.LIGHT SOURCE/SHADOWS.

3. SURFACE TEXTURE.

Drawing phases into painting when the same is applied using paint.  Firstly with careful and even transparent washes, and when dry (acrylic dries fast) with additional layers of denser pigment, with special attention to the tone ( light or dark) as much as the colour.

In this painting, an over all pale wash of sunny sap green across the land.  In winter i use brown, but this is summer and everything is made up of leaves.

Sun's angle is from high on the left, so shadows fall to the right and below all forms, with denser mix of the one colour, green.  The image is now three dimensional in its 2nd phase.

A kind of magic really, with no multiple colour mixing as yet.

Phase 3. which could go all the way to completion and fine-tuning, will be to amplify each area in layers of thicker and denser paint substance with attention to the interrelating of all forms, with both colour, deeper shade/highlights, and characteristic surface texture.

It's now like sculpture (especially if you look 'into' it in depth with one eye so you don't register it as flat). 'Make it REAL.'

So, there's just one succinct 'procedural' drawing and painting pill which works for any subject, free of charge for the whole planet.  MAY IT GO VIRAL*.

So, just when i'm in the flow, i'm almost out of white paint (a most essential medium), and it's Wednesday and the art shop is closed, and it's raining, and a neighbour is coming to fix my dripping tap.

At least i have a photo of a wash of green and the thirsty garden is wet with rain and the lupin towers are leaning like Pisa with the weight of water.

Long live the fertility of creativity and applied imagination!

With grove and latitude,

Rainbowmaker.

art : rainbow bubble-phase 2, martin law, june 2013
Camera : martin law photo, JUNE 2013

Tracing a rainbow bubble

On 10 June 2013 03:07, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

Tracing a rainbow bubble, gestating the literal vision spilling out between cups of tea and a day in shimmering heat showering the plants with a watering can.

And in increments with a soft pencil on a large pad of snow white paper the emotive impression morphed into an web of lines rigorously revealing a sweep of surrounding panorama, casually falling into place like a rustic mosaic.

The tracing for the canvas version of 'rainbow bubble' intricately woven together floating above the familiar green grass patchwork along the avenue of light, is complete.  The large soft grey blueprint captured in a photo from above on a round oak table glowing amber.

The drawing process an idea whose time has come taking shape in sync and in passing between front and back and a whistling tap into the heat of the garden drenching the pagoda star petal lupins in a shower of magenta rose and lilac  vivid cascade in late afternoon shade.

Then priming a small canvas to dry in the sun like a drum for a change whiter than white on the green grass lawn and be charged with photons.

Three coats of white depending on how smooth and far you want to go from canvas texture to enable flow of details.

There's a quantum grasshopper jump when you have the whole diagram imprinted lightly on receptive white to then see everything in true perspective of spatial dimensions of rich green forests and waterways shimmering in late afternoon heat all the way to the wild blue distant mysterious far horizons sublime and mythical with a sense of the elemental friendly unknown.

Delineating from a fine tip liquid raw umber diluting in washes where there's shade, brown stains old as the earth.  A firm foundation for mosaic illumination, honeycomb segments graced in pigment with sensuous precision of 'tonal colour' fading in distant greying depths of field.

With the tracing done on a day in the sun hands deep where warm soil is soft and hacking with a sharp trowel the baked clods of clay, cracks in the heat, loosening refining sifting soaking and slaking the thirst of the earth and leaving it to the night to drink from the light of stars.~

Such was the day.
***********************

Rainbowmaker.

art : rainbow bubble-sketch, martin law, june 2013
Camera : martin law photo, JUNE 2013 [pan-ed]

[related postscript - ed
see . . .] 

On 2 June 2013 14:44, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

Have a possibly gestating notion to do a painting called 'A Bright Bubble' to go with text description of bubble sphere transport. Including an aerial view of the permacultural planetary vista.  Might be called 'Rainbow Bubble.' (more likely appropriate.)

A GARDEN PLANET.

On 2 June 2013 14:44, Martin Law martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com wrote:

>Surfacing after a long catchup early night sleep.

The sun likewise slow to break through.

. . . my garden photos more mist for the grill before it's even cooked. Being a stock-up for the woodpile of relevant imagery . . ..

I listened on 'exopolitics.com' to a video forum Alfred Webre and 3 guests exposing prevailing use of cerebral interference technology in Europe and globally and moves to rectify the situation. Apropos and informative.(Oops colour slippage!)

Must eat oats and raisins and inspect the garden...

"...and we've got to get ourselves back, to the garden..." 
Joni Mitchel is also a good painter.

Love~ RBM.

art :  Avenue of Light, martin law, September 2005
Camera :  martin law photo - garden, 29 MAY, 2013

art-work : digital pandanplay, "to the garden", JUN13 - wfp for moo


 

IN TOMATO SALAD.

On 1 June 2013 04:27, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

IN TOMATO SALAD. 
13 tom atoes all in a row

a blessing from Terra:
Orgtec, go grow!~

oh yes, i said softly to miself

That's really good.

Better than a paradigm wrench.

Having retained an impression of those tomatophotos from before, such that they crossed the mind as i photo'd the occupants of this garden. Noting that closeups of plants seen artistically from their vantage point is an art area that hasn't been update explored.

Terrans being successfully distracted by everything but what is under their feet and noses, and don't forget to smell the roses.  With reverence for our red rosy benefactory companion plants.

O, yes.  Conceptually paradigmagnetically succinct as a soft sucked seed. Imparting the vision of no produce left uneden.

The para dime spark* being gardenartmusic (i think that's 14. (ed)). er, an environmental spirit mosaic expressing its whole self organically with no mechanical dogmas not on a leash or without first applying by lettuce.

...reminds of the art of Fritz Hundertwasser, all musics of the plant world flowing through and bare feet on soft earth along the riverbank.  As i munch dark chocolate mindfully pondering poetics in the spaces between the words while the black kettle, you do still get them, sings along something about the Mexican prophecy of The Dawning Age Of Flowers and, how many can imagine positive harmonious realignment into prompt playful manifestation or forget what you just read but got the picture and went along with the music...

Bionics-0, Bioregionals-101*****... consumerist waves sweeping them off their bare feet in the soft sandy soil, green patchworks and people tending trellises without having to think of black clouds the dark side only being where you were when the battery ran out.

What was i thinking about ah tomatoes, 'es' plural and the spell check agrees. A few million people answering yes and no questions on the ethers without thinking to pick up a pencil between times

"Imagine all the people" get ready there's a train a comin and it doesn't do dogmas and dressing the part and with a spiritual limp not liking the magic of life so much as how much could be majicked out of it and till their home turf was mostly concrete and rubber and electric underpasses and glaring mica towers connurbating on shifting sands down wind from tornado alleys and all the grid stuff that goes with it.

Imagine a GARDEN PLANET!

Was what i was trying to say.  Sparked by thinking about tomatoes (with an 'e').  Imagine, all of us living freely to grow tomatoes on a planet or anything else you might feel like just for the natural beauty of it and not have to worry about whether the flowers in the sun have a dark side which is why so many people seem to think shades are cool. Talking of cucumbers i just chill out ah brakes work fine.

OOOO OOOO OOOO O

Camera : martin law photo - garden, 29 MAY, 2013

EDEN REVISITED.

On 3 June 2013 02:27, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

     EDEN REVISITED.

Round the long curve of corridor softly without echo.

High arched walls, ceiling, padded with soft leather-like sheen throughout.  Neutral tones, cork flooring good for bare feet.  With a lightness of gravity adding a spring to each step.   Passing by many equidistant sliding doors, pearlescent and enigmatic.

A left turn, opening into a vast high superstructure.

A huge streamlined starlit hall, softly lit also from below, so those in the balcony above can view the stars.  A gathering filled with the warmth of greetings and meetings, suspended somewhere among millions upon millions of stars.

Similar in some ways to an airport terminal, except for the awesome awareness that there is no ground anywhere nearby.  An upper semi-circular tier or deck, where people mingle among refreshment tables.

This place is huge, as if it was a palace built by giants.

People passing through en route, in a casual and leisurely fashion with no haste.

The various groups gathered in conversation display an intriguing diversity of colourful appearance.

Soft robes and casual wear far outweigh familiar dress.  Ethnic origin seeming to have as much to do with the rainbow, as any easily identified racial complexion.  But with some noticeably recurring items of adornment held in common.

Moving through, with two companions in the general direction of a gently sloping ramp.  Into a lower area with the typically curved corners.  Among a profusion of potted palms, semi-aquatic plants and extra large lily pads.  With a glimpse and flash of brightly coloured birds.

We find the suitably secluded canopied cubicle kiosks, bearing the recognizable symbol for 'TELEPAFONE', a wavy line between parentheses.

You sit on a soft seat and enter your connection.

From a round disc screen emerges a hologram, a life size facial projection of the recipient.  The process works both ways simultaneously.

This is not so much a technological electrical device however, as an area of magnetic sonic enhancement to amplify and direct natural telepathic attunement to any specific point, planetary or beyond.

Gazing momentarily as the successfully completed call, phases through introductory vistas and features of worlds unknown.  Star maps, diagrams, data of civilizations, returning to floor plans of "you are here, X.  With barely a flicker and into a soft fade.

         A BEAM-SHIP TRIP.

Out from under soft clouds.  In the cabin of a Bluebird disc.  Planet surface features flash into full focus.

Graceful concave arc into full fast forward.

Seated right behind the crew of three.  Two men and one woman, 'man' the crystal control desk.

A front row seat, nine other passengers behind.

The woman in turquoise, the men in metallic green.

Smooth loose clothing, rounded widow's peak skullcaps with headphones built in, hers sprouting wispish white blond hair.

Palms snug in the crystal gold-laced hand shape hollows.  Flickering neon bright fluorescent colours around the panel.  A faint static crackle of the inner ear in the sun-filled disc.  A violet to lilac tinge of sky to the far horizon in the panoramic forward crescent window.

Flashing out under billowing white cumulus into vivid light.  A silver craft  passes through swiftly on its return flight off to our right.  Acknowledged with a knowing amusement by the crew and a signal bright light on the panel.  Sidelong blue-eyed back glance from the woman pilot with a wry hint of humour.

Distant blue mountainous horizon line in the shimmering heat haze.  Cruising above rocky rust red desert turning to waving savannahs.  Wide salt flats where seabird flocks rise and settle like windblown blossoms.

Onwards over serpentine green winding waterways, fringed along its banks by ever expansive flourishing fertile forest.  Blossoming nut trees in full bloom, glimpses of scattered white domed dwellings dot the deep foliage below.

In the hot lilac blue, hallucinatory space flowers blossom.  An all pervasive inner knowing, that this bright realm, this sublimely timeless land, is bathed in health and peace, for the past thousand years and more.

                   A GARDEN PLANET.

Long silent avenues of huge high hedge windbreaks, extending over a rise beyond the field of vision.

Where bubble craft sail slow, some alighting like butterflies on the soft grass.

A quick flick of a hand held device, and the force field evaporates.  Setting the occupant lightly on solid ground.  That can only happen when in contact with the earth, fortunately.

Propulsion and guidance is by amplified modulation of magnetic fields via the small hand held device.

Ley lines and earth energy points play a part, as well as the compass points of the planet.

No need for parking spaces, just vapourize your vehicle.  The bubble of energy can be recreated when needed.  No costly material or spare parts to worry about.  Alight and exit through a gateway in the hedge.

Follow footpaths to cross over arched wooden bridges, that span the slow winding curves, all along the serpentine green nut forested waterways.

Clear emerald water such as can be seen in Provence.

Follow the paths through acres of aromatic orchards in blossom.  A maze of neat hedges and lawns, gardens of horticulture, permaculture, aquaculture.

No need of harsh roads and infrastructure, shops, schools, industry.  A culture of primarily, natural horticultural sciences.  Serving, both nutrition and medicine.  Cottage industries, arts, crafts, skills, researches.  The reverence for which, being its own firm spiritual foundation and discipline.

With the mild and settled climate most activity is outdoors.  There is a creative diversity of small and often temporary shelters used as meeting places, eating places for people on the land.  Functioning as extended families with no discrimination with regard to 'age.'

Ownership laws, monopoly rights, are unheard of here.  Being beyond collective memory and the end of 'the age of iron.'  Abundance abounds naturally, cultivated by the many for the shared experience itself.

Competition is unthinkable.  It is culturally known, that competition is dualistic, divisive and hierarchical, and hardly enhances voluntary co-operation.  There is no division between 'work' and leisurely social communication.  People naturally enjoy helping one another.

Clusters of domed forest dwellings, close to the earth.

Shared home schooling, including home medicine, crafts and skills, close to the earth and mostly outdoors or semi-outdoors.  No structures taller than the average tree, and no non-biodegradable inorganic synthetics.  With reverence for nature, styles of innovation tend toward ingenious rustic.

Hence no hierarchy of self proclaimed parasitic resident invaders, whose illusion of authority is nothing but brutality and greed.

           FLASH OF DEJA VU.

Continents can be traversed in comfort in no time.

Directed gravity craft transporters render roads obsolete.  Teleportation is well tested and refined, needing no large intrusive infrastructure.

Free energy is available to all, at zero expense of course.

Families and individuals like to use bubble craft locally.

Many people ride horses, the avenues are perfect for that.  But living in the midst of shared abundance there is hardly a need to walk very far, since what you may need is where you are.

In such a nature based culture of nurture, with no monopolist intruders to re-establish the crime of hierarchy, that lesson having been learned the hard way long ago, before the universal raise in awareness,

all people are freely encouraged to evolve in what they love.

Having the wisdom in common ('common sense') that to freely give from mutually created abundance, is to freely receive.  The only 'currency' being voluntary sharing among kin in the widest sense.  Coincidentally collective and inclusive of whatever small measure and no more exacted than giving a birthday gift to a friend.

To horde or monopolize being genetically considered to be an anomalous regression.  A rare condition commonly remedied by voluntary wise counsel and natural healing prompted perhaps by caring peer pressure.  To harm the natural balance of nature is universally known as not sane.  Living in the spirit of nurture, all are nurtured by the whole.

In the ancient texts and oral archives, this planet is sometimes said to have had many names.

Varying from tribe to tribe, language to language.

Some still refer to the planet as 'Edinia', or even 'Eden.'  While some call it 'Terra Nova', in whatever local tongue.

Rumour even has it, that long ago,
in terms of what was called 'history',

that it was once called 'Planet Earth.'~

*********************************************

Rainbowmaker.~

art : Avenue of Light, martin law, September 2005

artwork, digital panplay, JUNE13 - wfp for moo

Post Post Scripts

Re: 'EDEN REVISITED'

On 29 May 2013 05:24, Martin Law martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com wrote:

4.50 a.m.

~ Having just now completed and pre-edited, from memory, a total rewrite updated version of a 'thing' i wrote in around 1997 or so of a 'seemingly'* off planet nature.  The original i later threw away, tidying up my papers.  So it's now called EDEN REVISITED.

This version running to five pages.

The first version written subsequent to watching a bright golden light travel slowly and silently low behind the hill the whole length of the Borlin valley from Coomhola for possibly at least a minute.

Whatever it was it didn't look like anything i could think of, no flashing.  But sparked a fair bit of doodling and now this.  'Simply that.'

Except i watched another one from here maybe a couple of years ago.~

Earlier this evening i went through almost every article on the blog looking for that para starting, 'Soft music of the levitrain out across the hot sunny plains' etc flashing past fertile garden domed houses...distant blue shimmering mountain ranges... the 'people in robes of rose' and so forth, but didn't find it so totally rewrote it better. ... oh that's the hotwaterbottle calling me.  Gosh it's dawn!

On 2 June 2013 14:44 :

Have a possibly gestating notion to do a painting called 'A Bright Bubble' to go with text description of bubble sphere transport. Including an aerial view of the permacultural planetary vista.  Might be called 'Rainbow Bubble.' (more likely appropriate.)

LEVIATHONICAL !

. . . responding to a . . . massive moo missive - to wake up to . . .

On 20 May 2013 05:07, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

 
 'LEVIATHONICAL!  i.e. Your Impressive Email.

Well, i may be an impressionable impressionist but i was impressed.  Unequivocably a literal literary leviathan of a chronicle.  Hence "leviathonical".

Like ringing a doorbell and the jackpot comes cascading out of the letter box!  (Why is it called a "jack pot"!?  A 'jot pack' might be more fitting.)

Anyway a lovely massive missive to wake up to, and i read it all, diligently before muesli breakfast and it didn't go against the grain, fulfilling enough in itself it was.

What uniquely idiosyncratic tracks you trail, and i followed fairly flawlessly, iterating inwardly that the poetic word seeding of the 'sixties' wasn't wasted on you, whether you were 'in' that day or not matters not a jot.

Quizzical the while as to what species of trail i'm tracking.  No mere mundane Pentagosaurus obviously.  A more agile creature by far, as evidenced by signs in the dirt of momentary pause or scurry to test and taste the nutritional value of a word dropping, freshly left by another creature who's path crossed.

With also a distinctly cloven hoof to the main trail. Obviously a creature en route to a home in the heights from a fruitful foray skirting the swampy lowlands.

Possibly a 'Pentelope', a rare fugitive Springbok.

However.  I made shorthand notes of 14 salient details to respond to in my smokesignal, lest the mists of amnesia set in before nightfall, and encamp, "EH-te-pe"* and strike up a small fire beneath high dense foliage for diffusion of whereabouts from unseen eyes.  Noting the limpid clarity of the twilight firmament bodes well for the mildness of the morrow, 'ha-HON-nah'.

"Paradigm wrench".  Aha! The term i used.  In so saying, "i see you have one".  Meaning: Any tool or means used to decisively shift or turn stuck patterns of conventional consensus assumption.

Can be used to advantage in conjunction with 'a dead dinosaur jump-start'.

Some might say 'a shot of love', which otherwise would take 'a lot of shove'.

Thanks to d.p.w.t. on the bullseye shot right on the mark of the 'chemtrail' X criss-crossed across the sky.

I see that the researcher 'carnicom.com' is as of now 'The Carnicom Institute'.  For those still yet to come of age and awareness of the full implications of what's called "Agenda 21", and it's not a party.

So for anyone who was about to think of 'presents', there is only THIS one and it's under attack.

(That's a Paradigm Wrench).

Though it may be a bit more than a wrench for people who dream the world is "normal", just because it appears familiar, and we're going to need the dead dinosaur jumpstart anyway and more than a shot of love.

'Shot of love', is a Bob Dylan song title and the irony is, even at this late date millions of humans are still oblivious as to what is REALLY 'Blowin' in the Wind !'

"The answer my friend, is" RADIATION, ALUMINIUM, BARRIUM, STRONTIUM, NANO PARTICLES, exocetera.  Though i know that don't rhyme and ain’t melodious.  He continues: "and how many deaths will it take till he knows, that too many people have died/ The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind, the answer is blowin' in the wind".

Think how many times he's sung that to hundreds and thousands of people.  So have i.  Over and over on the streets.  Six hours for six quid. What does it take?

WORDS are your SWORD.  Wield it wisely to waken.

Midges? I seem to recall Chris saying they don't like lemon juice.*

Certainly OK by me for colour play on details of 'BURNT FILAMENT', given there's an 'as is' whole original.  Theme and variations.  You're the vocalist, cool, 'take it~~~'

Noticed and LIKED the edge blurring on 'WINYAN'.

Also much appreciated your astute edit on credits: "shut down" & "shout that far".  Thanks. You're a good ed.  WELL PLAYED !

Forever grateful for a channel to flow through.  I know what stagnation feels like, shocking, been there.

Blessed with kindigenous co-evolution.*

A tiny red UFO is in the blue to the left of sun in BURNT FILAMENT, for your, and everyone’s reference.  It's tiny.  Looks like a fragment of the organic tracery.  A subtle touch for those with eyes to hear.

Our friend M.H. well worth a hello to him.  His compliment is sincere and extrapolated. Showed me his similarly colour coded voluminous writings on 'the market' research.  HIS SOAP IS THE BEST.  Both he and his partner are ARTISTS.  Maybe he knows where there's some horse sh1t  (typo no.1. intended.  People tend to poo-poo a pronoun when it's in the middle of sh1t but what does 'one' matter, or does one really matter, fecally speaking for fertility's sake)!

(Coffee break)~

"MUSIC !!"~~~ I'm always glad when i hear you say you are about to sing and play and you hinted or otherwise implied that to be the case so i'm even gladder.  See, i'm firmly committed in my conviction that you are, individually as well as in combination, of genius, and you know how convicted i am purported to be, and anyway i've listened to you.  Not only that.  I HEARD you and i wouldn't doubt my senses, and besides, i've got more of an ear than Van Gogh and am clairaudient like you are and like your audience would be if they had the sense to listen to the point of HEARING.  Hearing is believing.  No, more than that.  Upon hearing, there is no further use for 'belief'.  Belief is when you don't know.

I mean, impeccable ARTISTRY is impeccable ARTISTRY and no two ways about it.  Honest outside the box up close and uniquely personal EXCELLENCE personified as well as innovatively creative and ground breaking and i have to call a spade a spade even if a Zenist says it's NOT a spade i don't give a damn what it's called, it works.

I mean it's bad enough when the birds stop singing....

It was Pablo Picasso who said, quote: " I paint as the bird sings".  I could say the same except i paint at night.

For the sake of our dear global audience listening through the keyhole wondering "what's he ranting about now", i have to say, as an indigenous Terran, i have passionate likes and dislikes, and know enough about 'Zen' (excuse my language) to be aware that said texts are ubiquitously interspersed with admonishments against "liking and disliking" as being the minute hair in the ointment "which splits heaven and earth apart".

Well, that's OK too.  PARADOXICALLY.  It's a free universe and we're not talking about 'the old testament', Terra forbid.

It's when you DON'T know that what you're being and doing, (for want of a word that's not just another mammalian noise) ...IS precisely and totally 'WHAT IS'

with not a nanosecond left for split ends, and i bet nobody followed that.

If our friends and listeners, "scattered across time and space" really miss eternity that much, think how long it could take to divert the world from oblivion at this pace.  IT'S NEVER TOO LATE TO BE RIGHT NOW.

I KNOW i digress.  It's totally unpremeditated, and i enjoy it. Just like making music.

If whoever's listening through the keyhole wonders who i'm talking about, MUSIC and all, you can find them documented in detail on this blog if you look.

Under MOO, Ministry of Output~

Some things should be sung from the rooftops!

That leaves me with, Blake, Dark Mountain, and industriousness on my 'to address' list.

My MOO friends are as impeccably thorough as this also.  Talk about short attention spans most associated with that continent formerly known by the 555 nation tribes who inhabited it.  Numbering 50 million and reduced by intentional genocide to 500 thousand (correct me if i'm wrong) just off the top of my head and they call it "progress" and "manifest dest..." 'dystopia ?'  Or just a haircut.  Ah well, Rome didn't die in a day.  What's so quick about 'progress'?

How about a 24 hour attention span?  I'm sure the 'old timers' wouldn't find that too outrageous.

Talking of Dark Mountain, i enjoyed your comment in your seven hours long massive missive.

In the not so long ago days when 'snail' (so misnomered) was the main means of transporting a message, i too would spend ten or so hours on a letter, sometimes admittedly in shifts, most notably to my offspring(s). These days, with all this communication technology i'm blessed if i get more than a one liner - in small print.

One liner that springs to mind is 'The Titanic.'  Make mine 'on ice' will you.

I noticed my subsequent internal dialogue while working on the garden till sunset today as it 'sank' behind a dark mountain.  Likewise 'industrious', when i get stuck into it.  Successfully 'turning clay into loam'. Yes it is possible.  You just separate the wheat from the chaff and play one against the other, over and over like alchemy.

Thinking, 'never mind water into wine.  I might not feed five thousand, but at least nobody gets pissed'.

Focusing on the Dark Mountain, in the form of a forum as if a fly on the wall (or a butterfly for that matter) and concurring with the concept of a cat among the proverbial pigeons (though i love both).

Maybe more like a bull among china clay pigeons or let's say, sitting ducks.  As i mused amused at the notion of a robust but totally called for roustabout of aroused bovine hornery having gatecrashed by stealth into a store full of oh so precious porcelain pigeons never mind the money lenders and their temple momentarily in my fertile and ruminant moment of imagination that i even forgot to call the thing in my grasp 'a spade'.  A spade by any other name works just as well.

Snuffing the computer late last night such that you could almost call it early morning to peruse three borrowed books of William Blake kindly lent by Phil.

I gather, books are now called 'hard copy' but they weren't that hard. Admittedly 'The Book of Urizen' is pretty esoteric and loaded with hard to fully fathom turbulent archetypes and forebodings.

But the author/biographer did a pretty in depth probe of elucidating the conceptual framework that a few bells did ring and heavy chains and cast iron manacles did clink, currently pervaded as we are with the revelatory revival of the concept of 'archons' as well as the pitfalls inherent in fundamentalist dualism whether Judaic, Zaddik, or Zoroastrian.  Blake's 'Urizen' book it is suggested, serves as a cast iron epitome of the one cage you certainly don't want to get yourself locked into for all eternity.

I probably originally came to Blake via his imagery.  As well as it's influence on the younger Samuel Palmer and 'his' visionary work.  Such that at age 19 i took a train ride from London to Oxford to be admitted into a room to view the originals.

It's funny how you can be influenced by the deep force of an artist's work yet not be totally at one with their apparent standpoint.

That's alright, there's bound to be some 'iffy's' in diversity.  You ingest what nourishes and ponder the rest on the side of your plate, curiously.

It's the monumentality of biblical references that seem archaically curious. Perhaps it was paradigmatically harder to radically question 'God' and 'Jesus' in the one thousand eight hundreds.

Put it down to Patriarchy.  We inhabit a female planet.

Anything that gives birth to everything, forever, i mean: has to be more akin to a 'mother'.

The indigenous know this, the 'so called' Pagan, the Gnostic, and look what we did to them!

I mean: LOOK.

I wonder if you're still busy in your nocturnal neck of the woods, the bosom of the hills.  It's ten to five a.m. now.  Thanks for clarification that what i queried innocently referring to how busy you are.  It was simply a wish for you to not have to struggle in this realm.  With all the good you bring, all the inborn natural gifts and inclinations of intrinsic GREAT WORTH.  Irrefutably. Self evidently, by your fruits and more. 

INDUSTRIOUSNESS.  Of course, thanks for this word.  I guess, i am too.  Nous nous comprenons.

There, i've written another article.

So much for getting to bed by one o'clock.

For now anyway.  Till the sun shines, and it will shortly.  When did it ever not?

Bless your Industrious Revolution!

****************************************

rainbowmaker~

Art : by the dark pool, martin law, december2012
artwork : digital pan play, 'gaM mooZ looP' i - iii', JUN13 - wfp for moo

On Mon, May 20, 2013 at 8:03 PM, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

>PPS (Sp.)>

After planting brussels sprouts and while walking the shoreline looking for big driftwood on the rocks and looking out to islands contemplating possible shots that suggested  'leviathans'* it dawned on me as i came to the point:  Leviathan is spelt with 2 'a's not an 'o'.

Oh! 

Maybe it's 'O'kay in the title, being blended with 'chronical.'~ LEVIATHONICAL.

But in paragraph 1 of text it should be 'leviathan' to show i'm not an idiot (a word originally meaning uninstructed/uneducated).

So i award myself an A.

Thanks to eds.

Sunshine~