Creative People

I'm one of those people who has learned through living that there is nothing and nobody in this life to cling to.

I am a metaphor looking for a meaning.

I feel free to move away from safe familiar places and keep moving forward to new unexplored areas of life. Floating. If I had a penny for every time someone asked me when I’d settle down I could afford a world hypothesis!

Yes. I could bid on blessings. I’d sacrifice pre-linguistic symbols and create silent metaphorical abstractions. My linguistic skills would evolve into love, into discursive logic. 26,000 year-old Paleolithic iron and copper paintings create a secret symphony of ancient stories in a Spanish cave. Shamans experienced visions for the tribe. Oral transmission said a Griot.

No lengthy drawn out off-the-wall abstract explains my small empty self to anyone by virtue of who I was, am, and will be.

Life is a palimpsest. Trade security for adventures.

“There are two stories in the world,” I said to the Moroccan as we carried boarding cards through the Casablanca terminal. “A stranger arrives in a village or a stranger leaves a village.”

“Yes,” said Omar, a blind writer overhearing their conversation, “we might add there are also stories about love between two people, stories about love between three people and stories about the struggle for power. Stories are about characters revealing emotion through dialogue and action.”

He handed me a pile of yellow papers wrapped in rushes.

“A gift for you. It contains a farrago of evidence. Keep it simple.”

“Thank you.” Where do I find you?”

“In the caves south of Ronda. It’s a long walk.” He disappeared into Baraka.

ART - Adventure, Risk, Transformation, A Memoir

Human beings and creatures flowering and dying in the void.

Bell

Once upon a time in a green garden of light speckled green, shadows danced on silent red flagstones.

A bird in a mango tree sang about freedom, sky, friendship and dreams of peace.

A brown leaf departed the tree of life fluttering, singing, dancing down all the days ... reaching earth.

A green brown lizard sat quiet and calm.

A woman in yellow sitting on a cement bench stared through the quadrant of stone slats toward the law offices.

She has no concrete idea what goes on in there other than people paper and conversations about issues and matters she doesn't understand or comprehend because she showed up on the back of a motorcycle from an obliterated distant village and perhaps it's a member of her surviving family in there or a stranger from another galaxy - a time traveller disguised as a homo sapien wearing a tie ...

Another leaf leaves the tree of life in a wild flight of confusion and joy ...

Discussing Ukrainian war crimes, a slow genocide as 4,000,000 refugees struggle forward with babies and the elderly whispering, singing, telling stories about new futures all bright and beautiful in their lives after leaving everything behind, all the fear nourished by desperation and fate.

The woman on the bench feels a soft breeze and hears a small bell ringing as a woman pushes her ice cream cart along pavement. Both women smell the fragrance of purple yellow white orchids and they know everything will be peaceful. One day.

The bell's melancholy echo is long ago and far away.

Ukraine light, strength, courage, humanity, peace.

Ukraine Blues

Refugees

Suffering

Sacrifice

Letting go

Human dignity

Freedom

Brave New World

Memories of WWII

Survival

Beginnings

Life is discovered in a desperate situation

World wakes up from slumber

Heartbreaking nightmare

Humans help humans

Courage

Gratitude

Safety

Anais Nin

"The role of the writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say."

"I don’t really want to become normal, average, standard. I want merely to gain in strength, in the courage to live out my life more fully, enjoy more, experience more. I want to develop even more original and more unconventional traits."

"I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I can not transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn’t impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls."

"And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

- Anais Nin

Joy

See how humans become slaves to their phones.

"Spring passing; the birds cry out and the eyes of the fish are filled with tears." - Basho 1689

Magic is a way of living.

Beginners mind. Open, there are many possibilities - freedom, peace and joy.

Return to Wat zone, drawing sketching new energies. Consistent art through 2020 and beyond wild - abstracts, memory, imagination and creative play.

Natural sitting returning to a zone of tranquility - flow.

The old monk washes his clothes, orange robe monks walk through dust, red yellow flowers, green trees blue sky, calm, sketching.

To river with watercolors.