mask eats face

He broke down.

He returned to the bamboo shock shacks in deep rutted fields. Under cover. She wasn't there. Massage love called a sprite of 25 wearing flower ring on her finger. Silver with seven petals. Open. Consternation in his weak heart. He felt the sense of loss. Accept loss forever.

This symbol, how it transformed men's eyes into want.

This silent metallic flower only now, under a weak light as mama smiled through her destined crooked teeth, saying, Money.

Ling's 25-year young friend is beautiful, they all are, in an immature, petulant way.

Lack of confidence met betrayal.

Betrayal knew the stranger desired L.

The sensitivity of seeing the future with Awareness - Attention – Non-attachment.

Transference - emotions - an instinctual way of living objectively.

POWER

Masks - good or (d)evil?

           - money or sex

           - relationships

           - life and death

           - beauty and truth

The mask eats the face. 

Maybe, she said, being a Player. Lying in her Ling heart. No intention. Intention is karma.

She got what she needed. Money. Traded her passion for cash. You can't put passion in the bank. You can't eat passion, it eats you. Grasping is suffering.

Solvent with clear heart. Heart had nothing to do with passion. Passion sang its joy describing her minor character.

The 3-act play ran five weeks in Luang Prabang.

On opening night her love opened like a flower. It rained flowers over a lonely man.

Mutual needs were satisfied.

Intuition augured well, laughing.

It's difficult to take any of this seriously.

Posture. Breath.

Plant heliotropes. Night aroma in gardens. 

Smile. We will help you practice.

See the Beauty and Cruelty without hope or fear.

The Middle Way - detachment and wisdom.

Our perceptions are empty.

Suffering is an illusion.

Passion and process.

It existed somewhere between an object and a concept.

The Enlightenment Factory

I drag my mother to impossible places, said Asian daughter #1.

I follow my daughter to impossible places, said her mother, following her daughter's shadow. The slanting afternoon sun in LP is behind and beyond them.

Mother's shadow comforts her daughter's back.

Mother carries water.

Her daughter carries love seeing her husband, a thin bearded memory waiting.

Memory waits.

Patience becomes Memory.

Memory dances with sparrows.

Attention! says frangipani releasing itself, falling.

It landed on a steel PSP roof.

Bang. Thunk. Not hard and not soft enough to create a sounds wave.

It bounced into stillness. Air twirled it, it flew up, away. It floated to the ground. It's floating Beauty penetrated eyes, cones, retinal rods of a man sitting. He picked it up. He inhaled fragrance. Zap.

Beauty has no tongue.

Practice is allowing everything in your life to wake you up.

beauty has no tongue

Be the rhythm, said a woman with flaming hair.

They meditated in the weaving village. 

Lucky loved her passion for silks.

Elephants danced with zodiac symbols.

Weavers click clacked threads.

Beauty has no tongue.

Practice is allowing everything in your life to wake you up.

 

Smiling is a virus

The magic IF.

Smiling is a virus.

Risk vs opportunity.

Murakami - themes - boredom, loneliness, loss.

See a situation.

Create characters.

Shame and guilt issues.

Death is the mother of Beauty.

Beauty has no tongue.

She is the mysterious light. She is a light worker. She sings with her light.

She is a fiction. A white butterfly named Psyche wings her face.

A messenger from higher realms of beauty.

She is a scale. On her scale two are two objects. One is a human heart. A feather.

Season of the witch, all the rabbits running in the ditch.

West child - where did I come from?

East child - how did I grow?