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

2.28.2020

C'EST COMME CA, The Canyon







 wanderers 2



meet and greet






hello, friend.                                                               

Peacocks inhabit this garden.
They change the shape of space.

disorienting, orbiting yet locating
 calls from high branches

long eyes
 scan the dome
Cedar Oak Bay
Bay Oak Cedar
Cedar Oak Bay

then drop through shapes of pre-twilight
illuminated, shaded
with a mess of feathers,
 blue green glitter and silver feet

When the call breathes into core

crown and cape draw down
pulled like the nape's magnet
to our twin's place, this cool ground of beginning

fine sharp blades of grass become soft under backs
looking up at the blue lit dome
one vision
mingling air
generating
warmth electric
limbs combine
breathing you into me

Draw closer to this echoing world

Magnify memories of sand and rain
cry because
everything is precious again

dark skies fold the universe in two brains
-SK
                              



hi



QUE es


 
the flicker

if you only knew


i am like you


unicorn (the old kind)

All is not lost
there are still beings that matter
and root



To tell the truth.

Butters canyon, sharp bay leaves
Even with the tied chair facing away from the window,
I can still wander through the cool air to the stream, across black green boulders, rain sliding off high leaves, the dank ivy.
i don't slip, but am held by earth and bark.
Fallen oak leaves crunch into mud, i escape you by going inside and out -


you have no idea.
and yet
you *must*

-sk















the fanning page












 Denmark, Finland, England, Germany, Russia, Eastern Europe, Senegambian, Guinean, Neanderthal 

to be known is
to remember

you who matter
only remind me
because you crush





fusion and fission of a lifetime


O tell all


















transference, enactment, projection, a dance of ebb then flow

explore gently, please

the most ordinary things are the most

we are never as vulnerable as when we ____


hung up in mutual holograms, key

endurance walks beside me,
keep walking beside me

once bitten
 

The personal is in the in between
everyday pictures braiding

i heard every word
and wish to give that to you
and receive you knowing   i am the one to

stunned by old tendencies
...they only return when the stakes are high!

I am free of those ropes

to do so,
i've traveled long
waited upside down

i can't free you with out being claimed
but i must also
let you

the past's torch and bucket in each hand
can negate even the strongest footing

yet together make steam
theres always a paradox in new opportunities

people tell me everything
because i listen
like a vault.

Even a Vault longs to be known, and to know ...mutually
!

i speak in landscapes
circuitous yet
i won't miss the mark

archery doesn't have to be brutal
it can wonder
into what is here
and be

-sk
                   
apparel upgrades
start with the elements
all four

When I dream of bees

        

I lay in the grass


and "Be Still"






Bewildered 






still


 among the helpers





 
saturating time



       
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