MAY, YOU BLOSSOM.

On Tuesday, May 6, 2014, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

May, you blossom, burgeoning to burst forth. Walking in rapt peace, one with the new warm waves of wild lilac perfumed air.

May, you manifest magnanimous magnificence,

countering the current climate of counterfeit contrived catastrophy. May you weather the war waged by the wicked and wilful for want of your wisdom.

May you be showered with confetti from flowering fruit bearing trees and stay true to the good red road. Letting darkness dissipate and sink in some distant swamp.

May Mother Earth's rolling thunder bring an end to all despotic sociopathic plunder of ever undulating green Eden, and rivers run clean and redeemed.

May the plant populated planet profusely proliferate new green shoots after the dust has died down and the wreckage of rival rockets rotted into rust be but a red stain of raw rueful remembrance.

While, "a wet and windy May, no good for making hay," they say, and to make it more clear this time of the year,"make hay while the sun shines" and i say, "why make such a proverbial big deal of the obvious?"

Like, you don't have to be 'The Borg' to thrive like a hive, it can be quite pleasant to be your own peasant. Be kind to the bee or no honey in tea. Just walk away from the feudal array, not just be a gathering of nuts in May. May you not get a clout before May is out.

You may say that i'm a dreamer, but i'm not the only one to imagine all the people living life in peaceful pursuits leisurely among their own allotments like any sane culture.

Tending their own abundance without uninvited interference, and not becoming overtaxed by oligarchs who don't even live there and can't even mind their own business.

May you never lose your temper when you get in a bar room fight, may you never lose your loved ones overnight.

I'm waiting, if there is such a thing as 'waiting', even for a well seasoned waiter, for the May Blossom to bloom.

For its dotted and clotted blossoms to pervade the air with the full flavour of its heady scent.

The lush leaved branches loaded creamy white,

with the clear deep blue leaking through. To mirror billowing piled pillows of bright white mountainous cumulus cluster.

Hope springs eternal? Well Spring always is, as is everything. The fullness is the thing, focus on fertility and abundance and don't forget, what you affirm and feed, you get.

When bare attention bears witness, come what may, and like Buddha, or La Mona Lisa, not alone in silent knowing, harmonious enthusiasm sublime, has an inner smile.

The inner smile is just the sun, shining, as it does, from within, through the windows of the soul. Even though doubtful thoughts cast shadows, moving slowly across the face of the land.

Yet all the while, the inner smile. The long grass and the blossoms momentarily shaded but barely ruffled and few petals fall. When they do, it's still within the song of cycles and seasons.

May you blossom come what may. Blossoms blown along your way.~

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

Makes Rainbows*

Photos:

    MAY, YOU BLOSSOM, martin law, 2014

A GLOBAL SPRING.

On Bealtaine, May 1^st, 2014, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

Always on foot, never on wheels, a short walk from 189 feet above sea level down to the corner shop to buy water in the rain.

It's either fluoride from the tap, and i wouldn't touch it, or bisphenol leeching from plastic bottles. I drink enough black tea to flush the latter out, but they say fluoride is in the tea too. So much for progress.

The road turns right half way down and my focus rests on the vivid velvet green curve of a broad backed hill beyond the shop, dotted with distant white sheep. But for the hedgerow enclosures, it resembles,and is, a huge ancient mound.

There's an area below, a few paces from the shop, known as 'the peace park.' Through the days of early Spring, i always cast a distant glance down across to a cherry tree that grows there. Planning to take photos for this writing when it blossoms and wondering when or where both would start.

Until, Spring sunshine and blue sky and full pink blossoms now blooming. I go down to look, open to inspiration, before buying a, five

litre bottle of, hopefully spring water. The return trip up the hill is something else. Water is something of utmost gravity.

'The Peace Park' consists of a perfect circle of low shrubs with a few benches. Gravel paths radiating to the four directions like a medicine wheel. The rest is lawn, sparsely planted with flowering cherry saplings, and one fully grown cherry tree now in full bloom.

I haven't researched the peace park and how it came to be there. Nobody ever makes use of it, and it seems to be just a token gesture generally regarded as not being there.

'We did our bit for PEACE, now all we have to do is keep the grass from growing and maybe poison the weeds.' Typically ironic and a bit sad and pathetic, as opposed to 'pacific' as in PEACE, and it must have cost a bit to secure and establish. No doubt, that was the measure of the gesture of sacrifice, in loving memory of PEACE.

But it has so much obvious and unrecognized creative potential. To start with, it could at least be an abundance of colourful flowers of all species or races coexisting together in harmony to make PEACE a reality. People could gather in a circle to regularly honour and celebrate the intent and radiate it out to each of the four directions in sunwise order.

One thing for sure, it never stopped a war.

There's a complete mandala, a medicine circle lying idle there. It could be a healing place to sit together on a sunny Sunday, instead of in a square building divorced from nature and light, dedicated to the pathos and pain of 'sacrifice', to 'worship' something nobody's ever seen and not of this Earth at all.

 

So i took my rainbow globe and went out and honoured the sacred Spring. Bealtaine- (Be-ol-tenna), the Gaelic word for May. I took twenty shots with the blown glass globe meticulously placed to reflect the loaded pink blossoms arching down to the ground, as i'd intended.

'As above, so below.'

People talk of "the Egyptian Spring" and how there should be "an American Spring". But they seem to be in a not so free Fall into a Winter of discontent, to say the very least. Without as yet protecting, honouring, and celebrating nature. What springs to mind tends to be a riot of colour minus respect for or presence of, colour.


 

 

A goldrush instead of a 'golden age', the rights of spring instead of 'a rite of Spring', the alienation of inalienable rights gone wrong.

So my sunny photoshoot was pretty intense but peaceful and no bystanders got shot. It was a silent meditation on a 'real' GLOBAL SPRING' in a PEACE PARK utilizing THE POWER OF IMAGINATION.

That was my sole focus and my soul focus. It's my rite, as in ritual. A creative rite in spite of, yet another glitch with a zoom. A zoom which carries on zooming no matter where i set it at.

Finding the point of balance is a meditation in itself.
 

Yet, despite the slings and arrows of outrageous digital gadgets, persistence prevailed. Creative soul focus intent miraculously manifested worlds within worlds enacting a bright spell of Global Spring.

Researching the Celtic, and Chinese symbolism of the cherry tree: "The cherry tree symbolizes, death and rebirth, healing and rejuvenation, power, and female sexuality."

No wonder that, in Japan, they make annual pilgrimage to simply view cherry blossoms in Spring.

 

As they say: "One showing is worth a thousand words." So that's my short story. The pictures speak for themselves.

To quote a 13 word affirmation of mine from 2003: "May the true lovers of the Earth now awaken and arise in Peace." Repeat 13 times, and let it be.

PEACE ON TERRA~

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

Makes Rainbows.

Photos:
    A GLOBAL SPRING, martin law, 2014

WHO'S CIVILIZED?

On Wednesday, April 23, 2014, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

Europa Long Ago.

As above, the far flung familiar firmament,

stellar scattering spearpoint stars in eternity.

So below, looping back through incarnations,

millenial migrations, moving at one with wild deer.

Swirled in spiralled waves of whirlpool wind,

coalescing into communal clusters.

Europa long ago.

 

In a wide wild where women weave.

Painting pictographic alphabets on voluminous pots. Runic forms in reverence to common themes, chevrons and sigils of cycles and seasons.

Copper and clay are soft enough to serve.

Cut and mould and house the growing grain.

Shape by hand the round domed earthen hearth, and the crescent blade was a tool to thrive on Earth.

The circle is a sacred space, a balanced bulge.

Bluffs the buffeting waves of wind deflecting.

Holds the liquid crystal memory of water untainted. In ochre and rust red an archaic sun arcs down.

~~~ RBM. April 23. 2014

Words inspired by watching an interesting documentary on the life and work of Marija Gimbutas, renowned Lithuanian archaeologist and scholar. The film titled,'Signs Out Of Time.' While concurrently contemplating 'civilization.'

Note; The Cucuteni of ancient Anatolia, like perhaps Catal Huyuk as well as the Minoan culture, being matrifocal Goddess cultures, no evidence of the use of weapons was found.

Five thousand years ago, or so it's said, there was an outbreak of 'civilization' that couldn't be contained despite massive fortification.

When you look at what goes on in the name of progress and civilization, you'd have to wonder, if it was an alien intrusion, and was it such a great idea?

CIVILIZATION- The dictionary definition:

High level of human cultural and social development. Particular society which has reached this level.

CIVILIZE- Refine or educate (a person). Make (a place) more pleasant or more acceptable.

If we are 'really' civilized according to this definition, then what society on Earth actually has a "high level of human cultural and social development"? Is there one, and where is it exactly?

There are individuals who reach high levels of development but rarely if at all, whole societies. You can't define a society by the exceptions to the norm of that society, as if the society as a whole produced it and shared in its creation. That's a cultural conceit which is not a high level of anything.

So when does civilization leave a place more pleasant and acceptable? Perhaps when it goes away and never comes back. Though that's not true, because it invariably leaves a plundered mess in its wake and tends not to go away.

Most typically, societies are either predating on other societies or are predated on, or otherwise in perpetual internal conflict. In any case, predated on by unseen forces and vested interests.

Where is there a high level of collective social development? No it's not on the top floor of of high rise apartments. That's not the kind of 'development' i'm referring to. Material 'housing' without being grounded in spiritual refinement of wellbeing is a definition of factory farming.

Most nations are either in revolt or victimhood for want of freedom to evolve and thrive naturally. So if they are to be called 'civilized' it must not be a good or beneficial thing.

It's been said that the word 'civilization' entered the English language only as recently as the mid-18^th century. After that, the word was extended to refer to specific civilizations, either to glorify or denigrate, usually with reference to their materialistic exploits or artistic acheivements.

If 'to civilize' really means 'to refine or educate', and not merely to regiment and indoctrinate, as is the case, then it's more likely to be the individuals themselves who are succeeding at it. Despite the prevailing onslaught of fake materialistic civilization which inculcates at the expense of nurture.

Like telling a plant how it must grow, instead of providing the conditions it needs in order to grow authentically and naturally.

So who's civilized, in a world that's collectively at war with itself whether aware of it or not?

Combined with the not so secret hidden agenda of not so well hidden vested interests who like it that way for aggressive self serving fake material motives which those in charge of such, sociopathically speak of as 'their business.' In other words, it's not in your best interest so it's secret. A more definitive definition of civilization could be simply, pretence.

THE HEART IS WHERE THE VOTE HAPPENS.

I mean, just imagine, would you rather inhabit a dwelling that was a labour of love and not money? Among rustic courtyard gardens in tranquility, freedom, and natural abundance.

Within spontaneously sustained peaceful evolution bonded with earth and kin and all creation. Tending the bounty and blessings, sharing freely without oligarcic obligation.

Isn't that what comes naturally? It's not as if it never existed before.

Or would you rather be among 'the square box people', imprisoned on an automated surveillance grid where every action has a price. Requiring competitive and insecure slave labour somewhere else. In a polluted and energetically toxic realm of concrete, metal, and glass, devoid of organic life and 'naturural'*silence. Supporting perpetual rumours and 'news' of someone else's wars of scarcity and impending retaliation? Scare-city indeed. Alien? Or familiar?

Simply that. The question is not, what is, or isn't possible. The question is, how does your heart vote? Who's civilized?

Whereas a genuine mature culture would be something else entirely. The immature and ungrounded arrogance of the civilized mind-set (they're set on selling them in sets) does everything possible to hide the truth of our natural intrinsic potential. Along with repressing all knowledge of it ever having been a norm.

That's why IMAGINATION is so important.

Thinking and feeling outside the box.

Imagine, a world without boxes.

Industrial/technocratic civilization is by definition unsustainable. Being barren within, dependent on sustenance from without, (as opposed to being intimately integral with natural habitat), its continuity involves depleting its so called 'resources'.

As it expands, it eats up more of its so called 'environment' until it encounters a similar beast coming the other way.

The crucial flaw underlying this way of being, is dualistic thinking. That humans can be considered apart from immediate surroundings. That they are two distinct things, which is so blatantly nonsensical as to be pathological. Opposites are inseparable and complementary. Indispensable friends and not foes. Human and land are not two.

Call them native. Call them indigenous. Call them suppressed and forgotten history and you've lost sight of who and where you are. As if the inside and the outside were not inseparable so called sides of the same infinitely boundless non-thing. Reality is not a thing, it's a state of being.

Why wait for announcement that civilization has woken up to itself? Perhaps a really bad collective dream is what it takes.

Harm nothing. Create beauty. Speak from the heart. Plant things. Share.

Simple nourishment in a nutshell.~

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

RBM aka Makes Rainbows.

Photos:

WHO'S CIVILIZED, martin law, 2014

DANDELION TIME (again)

On Mon, Mar 31, 2014 at 9:39 PM, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

 Good. ( As the saying goes).

Tis always with a sense of relief, gratitude, fulfilment, and spiritual achievement when a post goes up, since most people usually hammer posts into the ground.

I confess i was wondering with a slightly trepidacious sense of wonder e'er April approacheth and voila!  In the nick of time not that time has nicks, ticks maybe but they're easily got rid of.  I think 'thanks' is the word i was searching for.

I'm fortunate in not having to do any "kavooming" since my take off tends to go at the velocity approximating that of evaporation of earth moisture and i wouldn't even run for a bus.  I suppose i'm the sort of bull that's never even seen a proverbial china shop.  But yes, as i say, 'good.'

True likewise here, i.e. no smoke signals.  But for a couple from A Friend a week ago.  I suppose everybody's on 'Facebook' or 'Theirspace' telling the archons what they had for dinner.

Much appreciated your appreciation of the post.  I like when people can't help laughing.  Means i've put the letters in the right order.

Regarding which, i do have one new article typed, edited and ready.  It's called  THE AXIL OF EVIS, (I'm sure you understand, or uberstand).  It's the usual length, about 2ft 6", and has three improvised photo illustrations depicting the demise of a demon, currently locked up in 'my pictures.'

So as i mentioned before, on receipt of your positive message i feel that much more emboldened to write yet another.  When it becomes clear what is wanting to be said.  I feel Spring will make a difference as nature tends to dictate.  I got as far as the title of A GLOBAL SPRING but it needs an explosion of blossom to photograph reflected in the rainbow ball.  But i'm open to some other unknown inspiration in the meantime.  Like when i don't know what to draw which hasn't been drawn by a million people a million times, i tend to draw a blank.  Failing that i usually draw the curtains.

Computer's OK, but often a bit slow unscrolling a website.  Any suggestions what else i might try to speed it up?   You know when that little wheel stops and starts and sometimes the pixels are off with the fairies and americans assume the 'news anchor' is a shape shifting lizard and the anchor too feels let down.

Gosh what a world !  All the influential people wearing ties are transparently clinically bonkers.  Well we did ask for transparency,* (see the axil of evis.*)  and everybody else is into plane spotting or hide and seek.  Imagine having nothing better to do than steal Boeings for the sake of a chip ...Boeing, Boeing, Bonne !

The council is going to come and make holes in my nice wall to put ventilators in and force feed insulation into the walls and attic and i'm allergic to power tools and machines in general and will have to rearrange my priceless artworks and stand guard in the garden with earplugs despite doing my utmost for peace on Earth.  Mad world.

Otherwise i'm fine but for the tooth, the whole tooth, and nothing but the tooth (i.e. as a hole)

So i'll send you another something in the post soon, with thanks.

Must go and contemplate creation...

Hmm..  Is this another bit of literature ? Hate to waste cyberspace.

File under subterranean journals unearthed...

Regards~  RBM.

Photos:

DANDELION TIME (again), martin law, April 2014