FIELD TAPESTRY

INSIDE 'MY' SPACE.

On 23 May 2013 01:27, Martin Law martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com wrote:

INSIDE 'MY' SPACE.

Never mind 'MySpace', this is 'my' space.

A lot of creative time is spent in my space.

Except when i go out, like now, sitting in the sun

in my circular garden, contemplating the upsurge of fertility, bathed by solar emanations in the merry month of Maybee.

I speak a lie.  A mere figure of speech.

How can you SPEND time?

Time is not money.  Zeit ist nicht Geld.

Time is the conjunction of memory and anticipation.

That's why the timeless continuum feels like duration.

Call it, ever present transformation.

How can you SPEND an illusion?

Dropping past and future, you SUSPEND it.

There IS no time in my space.

But, like most dwellings, my living space has four corners.  How do you get around corners?

Now there's a question.  Answer...?

'Revolution only happens in a circle!'

I envisage in the present,

possible future dwelling clusters

arranged in a wide circle like a ring of mushrooms.

Like an earth lodge village of The Pawnee.

Set in concentric garden space like ripples.

A shallow hollowed earthen bowl or pit.

Circular, semi-submerged, with convex domed top.

Smoothed and insulated of course.

Four internal compartments like a Medicine Wheel.

the medicine wheel - from the painting 'MEDICINE DREAM' - traditionally The Medicine Wheel is:
East-YELLOW/ South-RED/(sometimes green) West-BLACK/ North-WHITE. (In that order).

Martin Law 22 May 2013 22:30

A central sky hall with four directional doors.

An insulated sod or thatched roof.

Sprouting flowers around a round stained glass skylight.  Four dormer windows just above ground level.  Blended harmoniously within the flow of the land.  One painting could say more than further description.

A nice dream in the sunny ever present.

For a round peg in a square living space.

Sometimes i move in the best of circles

without going out of my house. 

My corners coincide neatly with the four directions.

Easy to honour in the middle of a revolution.

Grounding sunflower-like in the earth, the sky, the heart.  Seven directions for seven ancestral sisters.

So saying, and with a camera, i bring my corners to light and life.

Sunwise in a circle, in proper order honouring each.

>>>>>>>>+<<<<<<<<

EAST.~ ('Sees far' place.)

Welcome, sunflower yellow creative birth of the Spirit Child in playful beauty blazing on eagle's wings, the first wave of the new rising sun.

>>>>+<<<<

Home is where a hat hangs.  Many moons for man as well as menses.  Fond of feathers, fascinating wands of wind.  A sheaf of wheat.  Catalytic reminder of Eleusinian Gnostikoi Mystery, (the forgotten 'ergot' connection, demonstrating experientially, "human and land are not two").  I gave up eating wheat but it's good to look at.  Prehistorically intriguing density of stones.  'Everything' is alive.  All my tables are round too.  Song lyrics paper the walls.  A braid of sweetgrass hangs like hair.

>>>>+<<<<

SOUTH.~ ('Close to' place.)

Welcome, power and passion of youth and health and fertility, grow in trust and courage, fiery flower of the noonday sun.

>>>>+<<<<

Art and Music.  The Dream Catcher and the Drum.

Guarded fiercely by the Wolf.  Continuous outpouring since childhood.  Innocence and experience.  Ever evolving.  All for love not money.  Eros on Earth.  The instruments of Expression.  Spontaneity. Unrepressed, hence no stagnation.  Abundance.

>>>>+<<<<

WEST.~ ('Looks within' place.)

Welcome, all that matures true to form, responding to the call within, seeking through the long dark road the illumination of the setting sun and finding the fulfilment it seeks.

>>>>+<<<<

My 'altar' is just a focal point forever altering.  Sacred, no space for a coffee cup!  "I bless this space in lightness and pure joy, timelessness, beauty, and peace."  Pagan?  Yes, the word means 'country dweller'.  Just as 'heretic' (heresai, in Greek) means, to decide for oneself despite dogma.  Let's not invert words.  Everything i love is NATURAL, not artificial.  Natural IS Sacred.  That which gives birth to everything, everywhere, forever, HAS to be a Mother.

So where does that put patriarchy?

Many benevolent affirmations in taped matchboxes. (No curses.  Earth forbid.)   Every object has a story.  Pine cones from Provence.  Stones from Africa, Turtle Island.  Twice blessed, by giver and receiver.  Incense every day, never a day missed. 

Focalize, vocalize, and no hocus-pocus.

>>>>+<<<<

NORTH.~ ('Mind, Knowing' place.)

Welcome, Elder wisdom, balance, harmony, crystal clarity, 'being' itself, inseparable, indivisible, one with all, knowing without knowing, transformed from self to soul.

>>>>+<<<<

Full Circle.  Never mind 'FaceBook'. Book face! 

This is my bookcase.  All seminal books, no fiction, i can create my own.  Books come and go.  Some return, eventually.  Some even follow and find me, in the oddest of places.  Some fall away, leaving traces, some remain. 

Books.  All vertical, but for the print which is horizontal, fortunately.  All with only 26 letters. 

Eclectic.  Many strings to make harmonious music. 

There ARE NO 'separate subjects'. 

Open and read anywhere.  Read backwards, retrace how it came to that conclusion. 

Ubiquitous sticks, antlers, crown the collection.

Being north, reflected evening sunlight from a neighbour's window opposite, strikes the bookcase like a sundial.  Currently, 8.45. as of May 22.  Progressing daily.  '22', being a master (mistress?) number, may be a suitable place for this serpentine train of thought to bite it's tail.  My tale too.

>>>>+<<<<

A clear hot sunny blue.  Surprisingly no haze, considering the blatant chemtrail aerial spraying.

Sheltered by leaves in a garden despite a still northerly breeze.

My ragged silk scarf weather vane on a cane and feathers flutter. 

Mating sparrows chirp in the sally willow. 

Distant youthful voices raised in summer sport

and thankfully far away radios.

An infant wails briefly echoing her parents' altercation.

Subsequently subsiding.

Content to sit watching sparrows pecking in the dust,

feeding offspring.

Squint, into still high westering sun's glare

just as a swallow...flits through my space.~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>+<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

rainbowmaker ~

Camera, martin law, MAY 2013:
East I,   18:06;      East II, 18:07 - 23rd
South,   01:01  -  21^st
West I,  00:16;      West II, 00:22 - 21^st
North,   20:37  -  20^th
'weather vane on a cane', 13:11 - 29^th

Art: medicine wheel panplay extract,
 ‏ from Medicine Dream - martin law, July 2010

retrievable!

On 2 May 2013 18:40, Martin Law martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com wrote:

Teleflash MOO alert . . .

Reminder~  Where did 'the fur trade' woman's eye go and is it retrievable?  And the 'Yin Yang Sunflower'.  Not just missing 'martin' in my signature but also missing a patch of dots on left (all done by hand).

Still temporarily reticent to dive straight into the deserving black and whites as i'm big into COLOUR and increasingly so.  But bit by bit...

Note, in 'Bursting Forth', 1995., the apple tree in Coomhola, my cool homemade easel.  Easily made from 3 straight barkstripped saplings, notched and leather lashed at top.  A free adjustable tripod.
Tripods are useful.  Especially when a fencepost won't go into hard ground.  Like i did in Ballingeary to defend a 22ft round garden from mad cattle and minimal topsoil, hence 150 buckets cowshit by hand. It produced vegetables.  Have some outO'focus fotos as evidence.  Till cattle crashed and trampled and i left.

I suspect i will surrender to the urge to go armed with magic camera into celtic thickets, dimensions no tourist-brained clone knew existed and return having hunted down impossible glimpses of the 'otherworld' to shift the shift along by my higher shelf.
Late in the day. The shun shtill sining. Must go out!
(Me, not the shun.) ***********RBM.

On 3 May 2013 01:49
moo, ed, WOoden family publishing wrote:

. . . really weird, traversing the ‘MRBM blog pics archive’ where is stored what is sent from “Tobes” and locating the document containing those three sketches, lo and behold, there is the eye, and the sunflower, and the ‘martin’ and the patch - retrievable, though they are not on the pictures moo transferred out of that document into the upload format. Process will be redone to determine how the “missings” happened in the first extraction.

. . . thanks for the alert to the “missings” in the sketches - sorry about that, intrigued to discuss and explore it with moo-tech to see if it happens again, might remain an anomalous inexplicable.  “Tobes” sent those sketches in .pdf format and maybe the extraction process from .pdf excerpts randomly, as opposed to being inclusive; peeved that this ed didn't pick it up at the time. Always pondered on the ‘one-eyed’ woman, thinking how marvellously satirical it was.

The captions too are missing in the herb pic, so at least, so far, it can be ascertained that since something is missing from each pic, it has to do with the process of extraction out of the format.  It may have happened also in other pics that we have missed.

moo-tech is here now looking and saying, "oh that explains things, I thought it was some kind of two-faced imitation with the animal staring at both faces and wondered why martin would sign something just 'LAW'".

One practical moral of the story is to always ask Tobes to send in ".jpeg" format, NOT ".pdf" - (.jpg is a stand alone picture whereas .pdf is a document).  Still, moo should have picked it up; ed has looked herself in the eye!

moo is going to examine the extraction process again, down to the dots, to see if it does the same thing again.

On 3 May 2013 15:25, moo ed, WOoden family publishing wrote :

Had some fun with fur trade lady and other drawings:

- “missings” happened again on cue. [see postscript - ed]

- applied an alternate image extraction process from .pdf document into another programme - the method shouldn't apply ordinarily. But, in this instance, it did.

However, in the second programme, whilst proceeding to crop off the blank-smudge, scan edges and save the pictures into upload format, lo and behold, in so doing, the pic ratios automatically elongated the sketches into a stretch!

So, uncropped the images, by resetting the pictures in the second programme, then, saved each again individually into the .jpg format and lo and behold they kept their ratio and then, in a third programme, subsequent cropping was applied successfully.

So now moo prepares a post, if LAW agrees, to put out the play with this little anomaly which happened in the process of processing MRBM.

Long hot summer nights?

On 4 May 2013 00:25, Martin Law martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com wrote:

“. . . Glad you got the earthworks pix, and feel free to play with the fur trade debutante who lost face in a cyber glitch after being justly savaged by a mink stole. . . . ”

moo postscript

Friday, 19 July 2013

a digital mooral of missing image data :
.pdf document format can interpret data in pencil sketch images as ‘text patches’ (black & white); therefore, assume that the usual copy function may automatically extract aspects selectively, as if the image is not a cohesive entity.

a thematic rainbowmaking in the stole-n-eye satire saga :
. . . the sketch that keeps on striking . . .

Art: three striking sketches by martin law

Subject...Subjective

On 6 July 2013 02:33, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

Nothing is more toxic than fearful thought

Work In Progress~ W.I.P.

On 8 July 2013 23:28, Martin Law martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com wrote:

Work In Progress~ W.I.P.
A good day.  Even though i spent most of it thinking it was sunday.  Not because of the sun but just because i missed a page in my diary.  When i found out it was monday by going to the computer, everything still looked the same.  So much for calendars.
Being hot, with not a cloud in the sky or anywhere else, i put my new table (a notable good investment) in the garden and did some writing.
It pays to stay at home on a sunny day because most people go somewhere and leave me alone.  But for the inevitable neighbour noises like power tools, spraying sounds, plastic garden furniture dragged across concrete, loud voices in various accents and languages, and something i imagined to be an angle grinder as if somebody was doing a tooth job on a giant in his back garden.  There seems to be no consensus on noise pollution except that nobody minds. At least it's not like the Mediterranean where noise is synonymous with life.
So, while waiting for the 'TOAD' article to sprout and contemplating the progress of plants drenched in summer heat and impartially noting the random remnants of inner dialogue, allowing them to subside into their silent inner backdrop, i wrote spontaneously another article titled, I AM JUST IN TIME, which was simply the coalescence of a contemplative flow that followed through and ran downhill to its destination.
Instantly i knew what to do for illustrations and took a string of innovative photos right where i was sitting, which were improvised to be direct epitomes of what i was writing about. All i have to do is feed them into the screen box, thence to be further siphoned and condensed to a portable cyber point.  Talking of talking points, i do love pencils, they are a pleasure to have and hold, even though at times my informal calligraphy may become a little blunt.
The possibly noticed slight drought i.e. thin on the ground and in the sky of smoke signals due to the combination of reading glasses and screen glare in electric light cumulatively doing temporary harm to my optical vision, affecting my faculty of focus adversely and having to go easy on it.  Glasses being the last thing i need while awaiting the arrival of pinhole glasses which steer your overall visual formatting into equidistant holes by virtue of the black space around them. A display of 'holes in one'.
Meanwhile, 'Squintsalot' alias Rainbowmaker recalls it was the same in my teens, longterm outdoor sketching. I would walk away after hours of virtually looking through the page in simulated three dimensionality and it might be a few hours before my eyes were back in focus, but look at all i've done since even without reading glasses.  Allow nature to correct itself and en plein aire focus on what we call 'things' near and far without a blast of ultra white radiation burning through the hieroglyphs, baffling the optics into bedazzlement and glued with crusty cobwebs on awakening. They're my eyes (so to speak) and i've been looking through them longer and with more artistic versatility than any optician.  Ironic that i failed the visual recognition test which steered me away from entering Grammar School to who knows what end.  No need to be repainting late Monet's, that can be done anyway without blurred vision, any more than you need an ear problem to fake Van Gogh's, not to mention Beethoven.
Suffice it to say, i wipe my eyes in the knowledge that i will type as I AM JUST IN TIME in my offline office, and i have more than half a dozen very artistic photos, some of which the cognitive faculty may wonder how i did them... Aha!

So saying, this looks like another relevant blog post, stuck it in somewhere soon without it being cause for a fence.  Oh and with it being like Provence out there i planted out some tomato plants in a sheltered but sunny spot with a plastic bin liner reflector and draught stopper to the north through the hedge and may well plant the remainder (thank you to moo). If they survived and thrived indoors, which they have, then they can be happy out there now, with already signs of fruiting. Writing, pottering, transplanting, meditating, basking simultaneously.   Feeding flocks of sparrows pecking organic oatmeal on the dry clay dusty sunbaked garden paths as they all blast off as one to the shade of the spreading sally willow and return again to continue pecking, being less trouble than humans except when they eat the young beetroot leaves and leave them scattered.
A good day in the universe.
Peace at the cellular level, (where else?).
I'm serious mind you.
> Rainbowmaker.~

Camera :  martin law photo, “. . . dry clay dusty sunbaked garden”, 13:09, 29 MAY, 2013

panplay questing seers'reality

with -

Midnight News.

On 1 July 2013 01:05, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

. . . thinking to a week back . . . and that was a monday and it's nearly another one, no shortage of mondays.

Today being half way through a painting simultaneous with drafting another article in pencil and taking time out of time to sit and potter in the garden sun with breeze fluttering pink rose petals in bloom, got a damn nice clear photo of them set on vivid colour could come in handy.  Painting's going well working in daylight without glasses having ordered some pinhole ones from Charlie to correct my focus.

… immersed in writing and painting at the same time, staying with the spell of the flow as i've been waiting for this bit of writing to emerge by itself for about a week involved in the art of flowing around what they'd otherwise call a writers block but blocks are fine if you flow around them.

I did, back then perfectly type the previous one into the open office and i'm sure it's still there as i remembered to close the door.  That one's called "I, REPRESENT, YOU." and this one's 'IN THE NEW WORLD," which took two hours to type (true to type).

I've got 6 tomato plants left of the box delivered for distribution and the man didn't come and fix my tap as promised twice even though i didn't go anywhere, never do in the evenings and even held off what i was about to start in case i had to stop and change gear.

i haven't written an email for a while so this is one and doesn't pretend to be anything else linguistically loose as it is.  Had a few good chats on friday though haven't been further than the market for months which is ok as my garden's quite a leafy sanctuary despite the odd powertool and i did the tracing outside at the table in the sun.
 
Wondering what Drake's talking about at this moment it being almost the day of not dependence so he wouldn't be showing what hand is up his sleeve but curious to see what i can glean so i'll check...... and that was the midnight news.

(had a good talk with Francesca Baines singer songwriter daughter of Jeremy on the street and a long leisurely talk with much travelled Peter, and Dave about their experiences in Tibet, India, Andaman Islands, customs and behaviours of unwestern tricky tribes and as we spoke, a woman from India approached to buy a piece of pottery and Peter spoke in Indian.)  There's a little indian in all of us, mini, haha!~~~~

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

see :
 "seers'reality" i

 

MICROETERNITY

On 13 June 2013 00:57, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

        MICROETERNITY.

A garden is not 'nature in the wild' but it is a microeternity.  Even though we may have 'put' the plants in their places, they are just as present and authentic as they might be in a wild situation despite being in a modified context.

Besides, who or what put us in the garden, and what does 'put' have to do with something that grows by itself anyway?

 

A garden is not a vast uncharted 'pristine wilderness' expanding to infinity, but it may be, to an ant, and an ant is obviously intelligent enough to know where it is, since it co-operates and naturally knows what to do in any given place or situation.

Whereas if i were lost in a desert, without reference points, it might take an observer from off the planet to reference exactly 'where' i am.

While we may well lament our lost link to the wild, a sacred mode of mind intrinsic to INDIGINALS, we can still readjust our focus without walking more than a few paces, to realize, 'eternity never went somewhere else'.

That, being true, we are free to return, come back down to earth, 'out of our heads' (whichever way you choose to read that) and come to our senses and be 'REINDIGINADOS.'

Living in our mind-constructs of where we are, instead of in embodied spirit, we seem to think we have to 'go somewhere, in order to BE somewhere'.

Thinking, 'the grass is always greener', when, in some places it's browner or there isn't any, or if there is, it's increasingly covered with concrete and poison.

An influential friend and artist, long gone to other realms, once said to me, "What IS landscape?  It depends on where you focus".  Either way, you're in it and of it to the extent that you are it, along with 'everything else'*, this latter term being an oxymoronic misnomer if ever there was one.

But for, 'everything else', there'd be nothing to be part of, and wholes don't have parts anyway.  Never mind 'greater than the sum of'.

So, since eternity never went away (where would it go?) and neither did anything else, it's not a bad idea to look closer into where you are.  As symbolized by the South segment on the medicine wheel (the 'close to', place) and our friend the mouse.  A mouse is highly intelligent too, i've witnessed it in close up.

We seem to think that everything smaller than we are, is somehow less intelligent, and even most of the bigger creatures too.  To think that way, is not a great sign of intelligence.  I mean, come on, there IS NO size in an infinite universe!  All my relatives, they're all relative.

We are far too human centred.  Without even venturing deeper into the infinity of 'the centre'.

Surface oriented is more like what we are.

Everything is a spectrum with no top or bottom.

While we remain relatively superficial in what we call 'the middle'.  That's a pointer to what i mean by the word ETERNITY.  It's wherever you are.

Forget the spectrum of time, past and future with now in the middle.  If it's always now, how can there be something else to be in the middle of?

Time is our recording of where the sun was, compared to where it IS, in relation to everything 'else'.

Amazing how often people say, "I haven't got time".

Well good!  Congratulations.  Now that you're here,

now/here, nowhere.  Relatively speaking, nowhere is everywhere, everything all at once.

So, having already said too much, enough to make a nonexistent point sound pointless, i may, for art's sake, venture forth into the micro.  Who knows, in uncharted territory, where you might find yourself?

Closer to the earth most probably, on all fours, all four of them, surveying the timeless terrain.

Encountering the lone ant scout carrying a bundle safely to its destination without ever going in a straight line.  Obviously knows what he's doing, or doesn't care and does it perfectly anyway.

These giant leaved plants overhead, what are they? 

Do they have feeling responses?  Well obviously they do, they even respond to 'our' feelings.

Observing the pea plants, first thing they do is they all reach out and link tendrils.  Bind round and round anything they touch.  They must be able to 'see', in some way.  It's a very intelligent collective protection against the force of wind.  Most humans would just hide in the basement.

Weather permitting, i'll just get more down to earth and come to my senses and get in focus.  Never mind 'revolution', that just goes round in circles to where it started.

Instead, and like any good reindigenal evolutionary REINDIGINADO artist, return to my roots in the timeless continuum ... and if anybody asks what i'm doing, i'll just say "I'm looking into it".
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

rainbowmaker~

On 13 June 2013 13:32, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

>Just to let you know,

i just took six GORGEOUS sunshine shots of my flowers, lupins especially.  Very colourful in close up and close to ground level, strong large compositions.

Goes perfectly with MICROETERNITY post.

Will email very soon no doubt~

MOP~

Camera : martin law, Six photos for MICROETERNITY, 12:58-13:12, 13 JUNE, 2013