the first was fire, melting the container, love bliss so close, so one, snaking through me only hers, burning me away so sweetly. steal my heart I prayed. it is already and almost hers. tears roll down cheeks. who is crying?

the second shone softer than the moon so surprising after the fire, over the ocean glassy smooth, dark, the sky as well only caressing, she came, showed her face, calm repose stillness love bliss beauty, so close, so one. oh there are no words for it.

the third played, hide and seek among bright clear colors, flashing white and then vanishing. expecting harshness, again. a lovely cloud of white then turquoise. all thoughts are she.  in the dark cave,  nothing to fear.

is it possible the searing sweetness is the nature of the goddess? The fourth sent me away to come back later. The subtlety is overwhelming. She tinted my breath with a scent like jasmine. surrender to love.

Okay, that was not quite right. Haven’t figured out how to edit what’s already posted. So to continue.

I’m reacting to what I see around me, which is genuine seekers getting stuck in the bliss that arises from kirtan.  Seeking bliss as another of the many kinds of drugs.  Devotion is centered on the Beloved, not the bliss.

Kirtan done with discrimination dissolves the mind into love.

Namaste.

Pursuit of bliss and love does not lead to the goal. It’s a byproduct of the Truth, and only relentless pursuit of Truth through discrimination will end ignorance and lead to true bliss.

The Divine Mother dangles the carrot. More glitter of Maya. Most remarkably, Mother frees us from Maya while we are in the midst of it.

What is the benefit of kirtan? It purifies the mind as we contemplate the Absolute as form. When the mind is turned toward God it is purified.

There is no effort and no one does anything. And yet those who pursue Truth muster the courage and determination to watch until there is nothing to watch.

Namaste.

The show, two way mirror, of which play of consciousness is one piece, was due to the amazing efforts and ladder-scaling abilities of Martha Whittington, art professor extraordinaire. Thanks also to SCAD, and of course Harvey.

Photo below is the installation at Atlanta Underground. Moving it out of the closet and into a bigger space made it come alive.

It was intended to be interactive. My friend Lucy said it reminded her of our days doing research on how youth interacted with the glass bridge in the London Science Museum. That was another mysterious object that invited investigation. A bridge made of thick glass slats that made noises.

The bamboo poles look to me like they are stepping out, beginning a migration across the room.

People did eventually interact with the objects.

Well, I’ve been listening to Corelli all evening. Wondering if I could mix it with the sound of marbles. Perhaps some other sounds like Indian music.

I’m thinking of having the marbles drop in 5/8 time, and then intersperse sounds. Correlli is in 4/4, at least whenever I remember to figure it out.

In meditation and a bird call pierced the silence to the very core. At that moment there was no thought.

Well, it was frustrating because I didn’t have the right camera. The best shots are slightly out of focus. I used them anyway, especially the red sphere shots. They give me the feeling I didn’t know I was hoping for. Funny because I wasn’t really going for beauty with the installation, or expecting it. I find unexpected beauty that catches my mind off guard seems to bring a more open state of consciousness.

Is there another word for beauty? Anyway all words are inadequate.

The bamboo is now attached to the walls.

In keeping with my aesthetic/style some of it is askew. I did not want to create a cage. In tying the bamboo to the wall I started experimenting with making loops. I became interested in the way the twine interacts with the minimalist bamboo green. I used red, blue, yellow twine—primary colors. Way back a printmaking teacher told me not to give the three primary colors equal weight in a composition, and so of course I began making compositions using the three primary colors. The best of those is a monoprint, which I perhaps will find a photo of and upload.

When I saw the looped twine in the 3 primary colors, I was reminded of bridles hanging in a tack room. Smell the horse sweat.

I also experimented with ways to position the glass balls. I want them to be movable by the audience, and yet stable.

This experiment is not very stable. The gash in the bamboo upright troubles me, not esthetically but because it seemed to wound the plant. The bamboo is dying, but I don’t think it yet knows it is.

I don’t take responsibility for injuring the bamboo, the consciousness that is me is the same as the consciousness of the bamboo.

Its in a place.

made of stuff

cut, tied up, lugged, moved from there to here or here to there, depending on your perspective

cutting and transporting the bamboo was a major physical undertaking. Since 1998 I have been doing mental things almost exclusively.

cars and carts involved