AWE/mirror of heart

The cosmos plays us with illusion: it mirrors and inverts perception to draw us towards light, truth, unity... We want it, but first we must survive. We get the metaphor, just an old upside down one, then we sit on the record scratch and bump bump into illusion like big sweet babies. Inversion is a somewhat kinder road for the real to be revealed. Can we cultivate love and trust for our beloved nemesis/selves over the lash. What is it in the eye that reverses all things so carefully? Where the eye sees out, it looks in. Only through our receptiveness to what is, does the "mystery " vaporize. There is a Mystic's Awe that Multiplies. We were made from stars, and our potential is to be a vehicle for the cosmos, but most of us are hallucinating a lot of the time... We often wear our tomb stone around our neck like an albatross: Here lies [IWM]. Die before you die. Die to broken thoughts. Imagination brings us closer to and further from the real. Is it creative or is it separating. If i was that blind, how blind am i Now? Enter into some kind of communication with a larger reality. Drop some veils-(not all, please)- of the imagination. We are naked, together, slave and free, yet were afraid of XTC. Love is the intention behind the intention. "Stay the same. Change." Who's voice is that? Loosen the tourniquet on your heart. Do a head stand to see something different, be a fool and let the blood of the heart fill your head. Just don't be stupid. Time IS love and love is what is passing. Also will the music of this breath and heart beat. Make your house your home before you fly away.
( first entries are at the bottom- with a different format bc im not that technical!)


tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

 “The artist should paint not only what he sees before him, but also what he sees within him. If, however, he sees nothing within him, then he should also refrain from painting that which he sees before him.” C.D. Friedrich 
Love CDF, it's a bit snobby, but where would we be with out snobs.
"don't take any wooden nickels"

product of an art

''one has to get terribly old'', said margot to me one day, ''before one can give up the vanity of living in the presence of someone else''

"ssss...he was nuttier than a fruit cake"
we all that, puvis xox

thoughts, like larks

have you seen my leg, hans

forever and forever to where no place

still more loved and still more loving

as to be unrecognisable in my own eyes

life an art
with some harlot -like artfulness

he waits for a half second to see if his changed approach may have brought him any reward
whats my name
"an occult relation between man and vegetable"
and taste what is tangible

ordinary and delicious

nothing can be done except little by little...

cloud in rain

wool gathering, arn't you?
the amorous mirror of your eyes

seaside girls, PDC

"what do i care if you are good...

be beautiful and be sad"  cb

the temple with living pillars - cb