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

3.13.2012

When Oracles Of Aphrodite Speak; yes, no, yes no, yes...

exuberant dreams 



one eye open, while preparing to hatch


snail 

home to home


from the fugitive





rainy afternoon






photo by Dawn Blackman "sissel kardel"
PRO FEM
spring is near, sk


SPEAK


3.06.2012

BALL OF FIRE/EARFQUAKE/FULL MOON/ ROAD TRIP/SMART GIRLS CRY/ crap i'm 50

Sometimes you have to let your heart be broken by life.   Again and again and again the merry go round turns.  Riding on the back of the motorcycle this saturday viewing 200 miles of California's major coast line, where the pacific is so fat and sparkly that the horizon disappears in places, I kept thinking all this is so fleeting so awesome and so constant all at once.  I saw a huge mountain lion sitting naughty and alert in a produce field and was glad to be moving at 70 miles per hour.  It is ridiculously beautiful here.   Tomorrow i have a surgery.  All is well, just rolling with the waves, the punches, various shapes of the heart and the gold green hills of today tomorrow and yesterday. 



old time fave, N.O.

SICK!
heart, lean to

FEM



hello
human hearts,


polish the mirror




auntie em auntie em
"hi"
zoom zoom zoom






the things we see

smile




moo 
be happy
3 things
 a stonehenge rothko 

sissel kardel 3. 2012 

sissel kardel 3. 2012
quack is wack