Anyone
who is aware must surely agree, the world’s going through a
multitude of radical upheavals on all levels. Everyone experiences
it in their own unique way, according to priorities and perspective
and individual circumstance.
Astrologically
and personally, Saturn’s transit to Saturn colours the lens i’m
looking through currently. Or i could say, an added ingredient of
joyful colour is what’s needed and i feel a bit like a barometer.
Perhaps
the planet’s passing through a purgatorial purge process of
purification. Intensification of vibration bringing buried miasmas
to the boil to burst like bubbles. Surveying the scene on the
surface it certainly seems so.
As
with any birth or rebirth on earth the waters burst forth first, and
while the world burns for the new to be born, i’m just fiddling
with words and language in a free-form verbal doodle as one might
sing simply for the sound without it being a song, and anyway, what’s
the difference between a doodle and a yodel?
And
while it might sound like somebody who’s lost the plot, just take a
look at the kind of world we’ve got, where words are widely wielded
as weapons, while these ones don’t even have an axe to grind let
alone a sharp point to put forward.
While
worldwide we’re witnessing waves of weird weather, and psychic
symptoms of surreal subjective superstition and seriousness as the
subconscious surfaces to be seen, or something of that sort.
Which
in part is why this possible post is taking a roundabout ramble of a
route again to get to the point. Since the background story is too
inwardly convoluted to elaborate without making it seem more so.
Whether
it was the weather, Saturn, shock of progressive loss of teeth, and
exposure to daunting and indigestible information, or EMF waves
through a neighbouring wall, or all those and more, or creativity
momentarily not flowing like it did before, i saw that fear is when
an imagined self turns imagination against itself.
Whether
there really is some dimensional shift occurring, not for want of
people speaking of it with or without experience or integrity, and
hopefully not some glitch, quirk, or aberration, while noticing some
limitation on the relevance of the written word when attempting to
describe it.
So,
seeking some fresh input or inspiration and a change of colour range
to play with, i took a short walk with a camera and meandered into
the garden of a stately house to study the flowers in full bloom,
knowing the flowering of positive change must begin from within for
it to be self-evident without, as they are one and the same.
Pausing
on a pebbled path, to gravitate, crouch, and compositionally
contemplate closely, bright pink and magenta dahlias, and waiting for
a pause from the breeze for focus, as both a bumble and the lens zoom
in.
With
intent to raise the vibe artistically on the chakra flower colour
spectrum of my inner barometer when it comes to something to possibly
paint, and after an overextended season or so of greys greens and
browns. The medium is the message and the point of the post is in
the pictures.
Discovering
later, the flower lightly bears the popular name, ‘Happy Pink
Wink’. Words which refer to something more than themselves,
silently alive within itself, euphoric, peaceful, pure.
Friendly
flower faces flutter,
a
family of Happy Pink Wink.
Nodding
telepathically,
one
with the breeze. ~
~~~~
~~~~ ~~~~
Martin
Rainbowmaker
