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.
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
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>+<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
rainbowmaker ~
Camera, martin law, MAY 2013:
East I, 18:06; East II, 18:07 - 23rd
South, 01:01 - 21st
West I, 00:16; West II, 00:22 - 21st
North, 20:37 - 20th
'weather vane on a cane', 13:11 - 29th
Art: medicine wheel panplay extract,
from Medicine Dream - martin law, July 2010
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