Wandering holograms

Visions from this life or another reflect distort and invert perception. We may want freedom from the known but to fathom freedom is begin to remember. To remember is to grieve, then maybe see.

An exquisite corpse of impressions course through our lives, an art work entity, a ghost in the machine, driving the machine, relatively polite until analyzed. We set up shop in the impression careening into the same pattern.

To evolve is an option. As the tree is bent, so grows the branch. What glories come with pruning. A contortion becoming.

You, the one who has contemplated loss are easy to sit with. Integrated insight is exquisite life. To trust, we must become trustworthy. The inside eye reverses carefully. Where the eye sees out, it looks in.

Like an allergy, we crave what is inside of us. Crave it like a poison puzzle. Wanting to solve and expel. Everything with in us that we do not love will become an enemy to us. A loss in translation can become a shared psychosis, activating. Enactments repeat multi-generationally. Be still, slow down, nothing is real, but everything is potentially more than this.

We long to return to the garden. Where everything was magical and treacherous. To be small and dependent. How many generations of brokenness does there have to be before you ask for help with tenderness. Real adult life can be a garden that you may walk into or away from, a place of freedom, fruitful, loving. The tether pull is an old devotion that keeps us children - basked and suspended in the afterglow of melancholy. Convincing others is a reversed devotion - to ward off deep untold grief, and very oral. All themes are mutations of the same thing, until we give up the ghost. The content is old. Developmentally delayed devotions. To no longer seek paradise past, is to become paradise present. We, guilty, wear our tomb stone around our neck: "Here lies my expectation (see I was right)". Eternally repairing and repeating heartache until death. My expectation dovetails with yours so fluidly, dangerously. WHY do you think it's so exciting to meet and greet another solitude? It's not to become a martyr, but to join and transcend.

If you can partner w a friend on this road, Where you stumble, you will find your treasure.

People aren't motivated to grow w/o the growing pains in love. Confusing love with pain conflates this. Die before you die is to die to the obsession of mastering the past (all by yourself). Remember you are half-blind.

Once blinded, know you will be blind again. In order to trust, become trustworthy. Love is the intention behind the intention. Voices from the museum, recite the script. The readymade knows how to make the neptunian mirage beautiful as it hurts. Surrender, and give yourself thee love you need. The pain to receive, is to grieve, but you must. What you grieve is beyond the content. It is being bound in a body which denies.

We all hide behind something, no matter how noble. The veils and blocks are there for a reason, they don't need to be ripped off- rather dissolved. If not, they will come back or be passed on. The unworked past pushes into the present. Do you really want to be alone inside? Die before you die. Imagine. If cultivating love is the only path to enlightenment, then how many of us are lost. Love is the ultimate loss of control. None of us want to be bound, and yet.... so so bound. Listen. Loosen the tourniquet on your heart. Suck the air of XTC. Be still. Do a headstand, like the fool lets the blood of the heart fill the head. Time IS love and love is what is passing. Everything is passing. Take care of yourself. Make your house you're home before you fly away.

CLICK ON EACH BLOG ARCHIVE in the cue, as it will otherwise stop short.
i.e, 2020C'EST COMME CA, The Canyon, Green Waves and a Dot, Space, Nest...


FOR ONLY ART GO TO
ART BLOG: SISSEL KARDEL ART, ILLUSTRATION
http://sisselkardelart.blogspot.com/2012/04/painting.html

7.28.2011

to be continued/ UNFINISHED BUSINESS


A confession, 
and some memories...12 years l8r
5 am biked home from the studio
sliver moon
and my back finally relaxing....
that which is crawling
out any window any morning
weave day into night into day
a dream we dream one afternoon
McQ
AW
friend, sk
feel your way through
remember when.................. as old as the hills, the everlasting hills
a long history, and where it all began, SIL SIL
felt like summer rain
shed our skin, and
be born again
that first path, is never ending
he polished the blade...
  this rad psychadellic painting .of a carpet ride/ web of life.. dna detunh eht fo sraet.........rof u knaht HF
wo to the vanquished ( haaapbh haaapbh blaaah blaaah pbh pbhblaaah, clear the air)
flowers will blossom
again and again and again and again...............................
all the honey bees 8 1
ripple
to fill the air..... U KNOW THAT QUARRY IS HAUNTED...
shed a skin and be born again
and fall like summer rain, ok
cycles and cycles when the spirit captures you to return, chapters
eve, sk
so what is this all about... what a week, i was seized with the" i must paint my apartment now bug". Preparing for something, miss sissel bee????   Now, its a very pale pink and a little green...china town baroque.... road trip to a haunted quarry in Mass.... swimming there, photographing girls and flowers water and trees, reminded me so much of my California retreats, i threw my back out... no not by hot yoga, the other stuff , working hard hunched over in studio on some beautiful drawings... realized i was being cranky to a friend Ive known since 77, yup... it did not add up/ upon some introspection discovered that i never explained why i walked out of co-habititating  in 1999.  I was living out in Colorado where i first started painting "myself"or character in the woods. The landscape there can be other worldly and i was uber inspired.  I left with" it is too cold and i need to get back to NYC", but there was Much MOre,  it's a family affair, so to speak...A testament to how much one can grow once committed to it, but also better to clean under the rug.  While painting i found a lot of things. A box of photographs fell on my head, open the box, out stretches time or something like Psychic phenomenon...spirits unleashed.  healing the past.  Enough on that.  Norway incident reminded me of Raskolnikov in "Crime and Punishment", Rascal...just wrong.  I saw my dear dear friend, Katie Galloway's film,"BETTER THIS WORLD" which also dealt with a disassociated narcissist who takes it upon himself to be a hero of sorts, alienating himself from his community/ identity..a so called activist becomes a fbi informer...identity issues, maybe? Extremes are suspect. One of my favorite quotes goes   "Blasphemy is closer to faith than indifference."or maybe "Me thinks he protests too much"is more accurate.  Mars out of bounds...  Eros verses Agape....Anyway PLZ see the film at IFC aug 12-18... She is a great journalist, and the psychological perspective and documentation/ story is fascinating... The title itself speaks volumes regarding intention. Been listening a lot to "little Black Angel, Tears of the Hunted and some Grtful Dead, more things resurrected from the past, thanks to a generous inspiring friend.  I grew up in Berkeley, there it was about good music more than "Im a hippy or goth or hip hop  reggae, punk..."  All good so long as the music is right,  harmony of hearts, messages received... came out of Regan years so it was kinda simple, just remembering now, when mtv just came out and comparing that bounty to the abundance on youtube..We did not have cable....Soooooooo WHY ARE WE HERE? TO EVOLVE, TO GIVE, TO LOVE, TO REMEMBER.   AW RIP, sorry you did not make it through, she'll go back to hers. Late July I have 2 major anniversaries of change/ steps to be more a part of life, THE CHAIN OF LIGHT, the Silsilla.  Ya Hu! AL HAK!
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