Ocean greets me kin
24 March 2020
This is not a play
Tragedy nor comedy
This is a life’s toil
I splatter the drops
The waters in rivulets
Aspire for bay
Ocean greets me kin
Movement of waves like my skin
A body of clay
Reading of the poem:
Written in the context of Ronovan writes weekly Haiku 298 using the words bay and play. For rules and more poems follow this link.
Gurdjieff – De Hartmann Vol 12: Prière Pour La Miséricorde, Alain Kremski
Chalk drawing
23 March 2020
Hello everybody and I hope you are sound and safe at home or elsewhere.
This is my new attempt since a while with chalk. With everyone self-isolated or almost, it seemed like a good idea to start with this again.
The last time I drew with chalk was almost 3 years ago so I became rusty again at it. The chalk I ordered was quite small so difficult to maneuver and disappeared quite quickly but I hope you will like this all the same.
Stay blessed, stay safe until this whole thing blows over, hopefully in time to let us enjoy some spring.
The Illusionist Main Theme Philip Glass
They run through rivers
23 March 2020
Did you feel
My waking anthem?
It speaks not
It fears not
It crawls alive down mountains
Measured in sentence
The wet tides
They crave beaten shores
Where I dance
Unison
Downtrodden path of danger
The will a stranger
I heed not
The hushed countenance
The words packed
In bosom
Now descending in quivers
They run through rivers
Reading of the poem:
Hush now don’t explain – Billie Holiday
The Frost Chronicles 5: The secret world of the Marid part 3
22 March 2020
With the second Marid now disappeared she had sat to think about potential new items that she could trade in this world for some money. The first item that crossed her mind was a device which, when secured at the bottom of where the pineal gland would fall upon at the base of the skull – if it had been able to fall, would cause the person to experience lucid dreaming or attain a high depending upon what their mindset was at the time of wearing it. She realized that this device would probably be too difficult to create on her own as it would have neuropulsers which was something that had not been discovered yet and that transmitted pulses into the brain from outside the skull. It would be developed in the future to activate and/or stabilize zones of the mind that were either not working or working erratically but as with all things scientific, a second usage would be attempted to escape reality.
She then thought that she should probably move to something which was not scientific but rather cultural or fashion based. She could see in her mind’s eye women wearing clothes made of plastic which had been conditioned so that it was almost as soft as silk on the skin. Again, however, she could not see what material had been used to condition the plastic for it to turn into a silk-like material so she realized that this too would be something she would have to forego. She then thought to herself that surely if she was able to see the end result, she should be able to see the transformation. She focused on the process of transforming plastic into a silk-like material and realized that this involved using amongst other items large amounts of balsamic vinegar and some hydrochloric acid. She thought that this was indeed a funny process and delved within her mind to discover the other items required.
After she had made a list of the items, she realized that it would be so much easier for her to ask for the exact processes from the Marid. She realized that the second Marid, her would-be father, was probably the best to ask about these matters. She had not, however, invoked him so she did not know his special name to call upon him unlike the first Marid. She knew, however, that she should be able to visit the world of the Marid as she was half Marid herself. She went within into the silent consciousness mode and thought of the Marid world as he had mentioned it to her and she could instantly feel herself splitting into it. It was as if she was disappearing into the ground while at the same time flying away in the skies. Present, past and future were but just one space that she was floating in. She could see from the skies only one woman and one man. It was as if all the male components on Earth had summed up to just one man and all the female components into one woman.
The part of her that sunk into the ground could see a gathering of Marids. They were just like a haze of clouds trapped under the Earth. It was very warm down in the Earth and not cold as she had expected given the cold air above the Earth. The Marid seemed to be having a reunion of some sort and were gathered in a half circle. At the top of the semi-circular pattern, a bit separated from the rest of the haze around her, her would-be half father was seated holding a golden scepter…
Gurdjieff – Oriental Suite – [N4,N5 Metropole Orchestra]
The Malachite Curse 5 : Who killed Cuifen?
21 March 2020
Ming-Hoa’s sight was darkening as he felt the pressure of Chow’s hands around his neck strengthen. Soon he would be reunited with Cuifen he thought for an eternity or at least until only their bones were left. Ming-Hoa believed that once the flesh was gone, the consciousness of the person was also gone unlike the other villagers who believed that the life energy ceased to exist once the breath had gone. He could feel the blood beat at his temples as he mechanically gasped for breath. Suddenly he felt himself freed from Chow’s clutch. Those restraining Ju-Long had come to his rescue and pulled her off him. The women came over to try and reason with Chow so that she would stop trying to go back and strangle Ming-Hoa.
Slowly it would seem that Chow had been reasoned into passivity, so the men returned to their rolling of the coffin on the platform. Somehow none of them felt it was safe enough to directly haul the coffin over their shoulders like they would normally do. Besides, with all the marble of the coffin it was easier to roll it to the graveyard than carry it. Ming-Hoa who was now freed from Chow’s vice-like grip was wailing and following Cuifen’s coffin, uttering from time to time nonsensical whimpers that sounded like muffled words. Eu-Meh thought she could hear something like “Three drops of blood”… “One minute you were”… “body so pure “… “why did you tear” “my ponytail”. She wondered whether Ming-Hoa had attempted to abuse Cuifen and subsequently murdered her when she refused. It all seemed so logical. She should remember to mention that to the police when they would come.
There was no policeman in their village, just one in the nearby village and it would take a day or two for him to come over. She knew that the inquest would have to be handled by more than just that policeman so he would need to wait for the other ones to arrive from the city. This could take another two or three days so the inquest would only start around a week from then. She wondered whether it was wise to already bury Cuifen and have her dug out when the inquest started. There had been one other murder a long time ago and although the murderer had been known, the inquest had still decided that the body must be dug up to corroborate the way the murder had been carried out and the murderer who had been responsible for that murder. She wondered whether she should ask the villagers to stop the burial but realized that everybody seemed to want to be rid of the sight of Cuifen dead.
Chow who had now been relatively quietened by the women was now following Eu-Meh. This latter slowed down so Chow could catch up with her. Without a word Eu-Meh put a reassuring arm around Chow sustaining her frame as she could see that the normally stoic Chow was very near to collapsing.
Gurdjieff / De Hartmann – Persian Song
The Woven Life 2 : Bubbles of liberty
19 March 2020
She wove conscientiously the points keeping in mind most of the time the greatest good of all. She knew that some of what she wove would not be witnessed in her time but in eons to come. Other parts of what she wove were for immediate results or results on the short or medium term. In the beginning it had been disappointing that the desires she had did not have an immediate resolution but she had learnt to accept this. She looked upon her task as a humanitarian one as she was weaving a better consciousness. She wondered how many out there were like her weaving a better series of connections into the collective consciousness.
Sometimes, her old shadows returned and she would need to stop the weaving during those days. That could mean no weaving for several days in a row. She always wondered whether her consciousness would still be connected so closely with the collective consciousness to affect it in a significant way or if these days of absence would have weakened the contact. Every time she had such doubts they were dispelled immediately when she returned to weave for the greatest good of all and saw the almost immediate results. She wondered how she could cope with her shadow selves to bring them out to the light and no longer have to sit in between all the time. This would allow her to keep weaving every day instead of having to make a pause.
One day she caught herself talking to one of her shadow selves that had strayed into the room. It was no longer lurking behind her as they always tended to do when they manifested, watching her, thinking she was unaware of their presence or pretending they thought that. She normally would only observe them and try to fill them with light but they would take cover, literally and refuse to be dissolved most of the time although she had been able to lighten a couple of them. Today however, she decided to talk to the one who had unwittingly strayed into the room.
She thought to herself that she must be right. She should perhaps leave them these bubbles of liberty.
Björk – jóga / State of Emergency
The woven life 1 : A conscious stream
17 March 2020
Every time she focused her thoughts something so intimately connected with it would happen in the outer world. It was as if consciousness was responding to her thoughts and replicating what she wished internally to replicate. She noticed that sometimes the matter she thought about was so far fetched that the outcome of her focused thoughts was surprising and not similar to her thoughts at all. Yet in the midst of all those peculiar outcomes she knew that these were merely intermediate stages of consciousness moving towards her desired outcome. Indeed, the more she focused on her outcome the more this became part of what consciousness wanted as outcome if one could speak of wanting when discussing consciousness. She could see this because the more she wanted to be part of consciousness and was aware of it, the more consciousness was aware of her within it, with all the desires she embodied.
She decided to leave her full-fledged meditation based on the teachings of great men of other philosophies and embrace fully this relationship to consciousness. She would spend hours now at will concentrating her mind on the desired outcome and weaving through her mind’s eye the necessary consciousness streams to make it happen in the physical realm. She knew that you did not need to be at a specific place or reach for a specific consciousness stream emanating from another person. All you had to do was think of that person and project both your intent and that person’s would be intent into that area where your consciousness was taking you. From there on, it was a simple task to weave that stream or thread with the ones you already had.
Anyone who has made or seen being made those intricate patterns woven by mainly women and children who weave using preset nails hammered on a board would know what this looks like. The only difference is that there is no requirement for nails to be hammered. It is sufficient to have the points of intent set within the consciousness and then have the streams woven through the intent. She was getting expert at doing this and realized that when she wove grand, in the sense that this would have a macroscopic effect with little to no benefit for her, this was strangely more likely to have an outcome similar to her request than when she wove with her own benefit in mind…
Alone and Together – No Clear Mind
Just to be One with you
17 March 2020
I gather two coins of us
Toss one up in the sky
A game to play with no fuss
Heads or tails, none to cry
Is this all that was to be
Pain reminder of slate
Acceptance of destiny
Other ingratiate?
In my past the cobwebs pass
Leaving path to renew
All I could ever dream was
Just to be One with you
Reading of the poem:
Beth Hart & Joe Bonamassa – I’ll Take Care Of You
He moved with giant strides
16 March 2020
He thought that love was a battle
One to put as task
The chains and tools that he’d rattle
In the cage she’d bask
Envigored by resolution
He moved with giant strides
Yet it was the wrong solution
Strong the soul she rides
She beckoned to him taught him peace
Of leaves that mind did rake
Offered soul and heart to appease
The lady of the lake
Reading of the poem:
Agnes Obel – The Curse (Berlin Live Session)
The Body Rider 3 : Quizzical responses
15 March 2020
She continued her whirling feeling lighter as she slowly connected both to the skies and the Earth at the same time. He seemed to have left the threshold and entered the room and she felt his silent mood grow. It was as if he was trying to figure out how best to tackle the fact that she was now ignoring all his taunts. He wondered then whether he should just dismiss her from his life as he could have virtually anyone he wanted to have. Was he not the ultimate saviour? She spiraled higher into the bliss provoked by the sensation of the sufi whirling. He disappeared from her thoughts as the feelings of bliss got more intense.
He sensed her escaping his reach and riled against it. It was not that she was pretty or intelligent, it was something beyond the physical and the intellectual, it was something related to her metaphysical ability to elude him despite his alchemy skills. He, who prided himself on being a master of alchemy was unable to bend her mind and soul so that she would be just another creature submitting to his will. The challenge tickled and irritated him all at once. He could see now that she was slowing down her sufi whirling and attempted a new line of action he had never attempted before. He tried to scare her.
She could feel the building up of his anger now behind her but she merely mirrored it back at him from within her peace. She could see with her mind’s eye how he struggled against his own anger before overcoming it by transforming it again into nothingness. She could sense his amazement and the questions welling within him on how she could have acquired the skill of reducing all his psychic attacks to something sent back to him. Was she no longer pining for him like she used to? Was there no longer that initial love present that he could transfigure into hate and thereby into fear? She merely smiled back at him. Look at the skies how they smile, she said and he felt strangely lightheaded as she uttered those words.
Summer Wine – Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazelwood
Ramblings
Welcome to our blog, where we delve into art-related topics with a special emphasis on Asian art. Our focus is primarily on ancient Chinese painting and the profound philosophical concepts that underpin this rich tradition. You'll find a diverse range of content, including the author's own works—from calligraphy and sketches to detailed studies and finished pieces. Discover the beauty and depth of Asian art, and join us on a journey through history, philosophy, and creative expression.
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