Journeys
Cloud
Timothy M. Leonard's books on Goodreads
A Century Is Nothing A Century Is Nothing
ratings: 4 (avg rating 4.50)

The Language Company The Language Company
ratings: 2 (avg rating 5.00)

Subject to Change Subject to Change
ratings: 2 (avg rating 4.50)

Ice girl in Banlung Ice girl in Banlung
ratings: 2 (avg rating 4.50)

Finch's Cage Finch's Cage
ratings: 2 (avg rating 3.50)

Amazon Associate
Contact

Entries in sensation (20)

Saturday
May282022

Diary 2021

Well being - flow and harmony

Sensation leads to perception leads to making meaning leads to conclusions, action, consequences.

Ladder of Inference:

Consequences

Action

Conclusions

Meaning

Perception

Sensation

*

Celebrate the quest.

*

Middle Way:

science / spirituality

memory / mythology

structure / spontaneity

ephemeral / eternal

humorous / profound

connectivity / non-attachment

*

holy trees. strong

learn to listen to trees

then the brevity of our childlike way achieves joy

*

inner life of nature

the wilderness of our own nature

into universe of myth & magic

*

the future is coming for us

*

the absurdity of fear and the fear of absurdity

Wednesday
Nov032021

Blindness

"We are like the spider. We weave our life and then move along in it. We are like the dreamer who dreams and then lives in the dream. This is true for the entire universe."

- Upanishad

 

Curious beginnings determine her artistic sense of formless form, coloring stories of her village, the other world.

Cutting, planting, harvesting completes slow rhythm of life. Her skill shines with every new expression. Her heart sings.

Her simple direct feeling is all sensation.

Art enables her this beauty. She describes what she draws. She creates what she sees. Her words fly through forests with resplendent peacocks, birds of paradise.

A blind conversation developed a through line. Turn a blind eye.

Blindness listened. Blindness heard muted laughter before intuition gestured pink floating word worlds.

Laughter danced with exhaled attachment.

Blindness danced through late yellow faltering light / penetrating bamboo leaves spreading themselves over banana baskets impaled on swinging posts.

A bike bell rang. A young Lao girl sat quiet watching the Vietnamese girl do her toenails. Cutting, and trimming, lemon / lime soak, cuticles, translucent before applying a silver hued glossy glean. Nail by nail.

Blindness solved the mystery of sight crying tears of silence.

A van labeled UNIVERSE filled with blank faced white Europeans trapped behind glass holding rampant desires and scared expectations on laps turned into a blind alley.

They fidgeted with uncomfortable languages floating into ear canals assaulting long painful strides navigating yesterday’s regrets / tomorrow’s fear / today’s dead lines.

Blindness practiced Tai-chi with precision.

Blindness exchanged blue ink for a dark shade of green.

A handheld hair dryer waved hot air over a shampooed head. Mirrors whispered empty secrets.

Elements of silence said farewell.

Eyes investigated decompression while swallowing fresh yogurt with peach slices near afternoon’s languishing empty promises intent on making it new day by day.

Explanations have to end somewhere.

In her village, the other world, the one she never left, Blindness threaded new beginnings on her loom of time feeling pressure and tightness between notes.

Sunlight dressed saliva beads blending a weave, texture and design, saying hello Beauty.

Beauty has no tongue.

Weaving A Life V1

Weaving A Life (Volume 1) by [Timothy Leonard]

 

Monday
Nov012021

her chance

Bursa, Turkey

the woman on the metro

with a burned leg - you remember her clearly
how she sat after dragging her bad leg

into the compartment
this image of her
alone
cold
scared
in pain
how did it happen? why is she alone?
on a cold night in a flimsy sweater

her skin below the knee
running to her ankle
all burned away
exposing blood red lines

her abstract expression
her sacred scared distracted face
watching night fly past windows
where blue televisions and children eye each other

how she kept going
on the metro past a stop
where the expensive private hospital on a Roman
hill gleamed its extensive intensive pensive care
ward and her treatment was delayed
forgotten useless
here

because she is poor
so she stayed in her seat
anxious now feeling her pain
wondering where she would go
where she would end up this night

as a stranger studied her anxious passive 
expression feeling burns, violent burns
inside sensations fire and heat
nerve impulses darting through

along sensory
channels where signals blocked by
neurotransmitters shut down
her chance

Tuesday
Oct202020

Dancing Stars

Haiku waves flow music
Winter seas

Sensation dreams
Birds sing
Passage islands horizon clouds moon
Ink sketch free air

Quality life nature laughter
Impermanence sand castles

Language of water sand patterns
Poem play
Primitive art



Waves say hello to dawn light
Easy coast sand castles

Draw dream day

Smiling Zen
At The Green House Effect a Wish Fairy wears a jade green tooth on a golden chain.
Her brown hair curls at nape.
She looks like a pixie however she is a fairy.

After hearing a visiting wizard say, “This is the first time I've seen someone make a latte with foam," she said, “Make a wish it’s your first time.”

So he did and they talked as the orange sun played with cumulus above the blue horizon of sea green. Everything sparkled, sky, sea, clouds and Wish Fairy.
Barefoot ground soft eyes slow pace
Flow

Dancing stars

Grow Your Soul

Friday
Dec012017

One Sunday Song - Ice Girl

Chapter 11.

cambodia is a funny place. ha, ha, ha.

what do you see, asked Leo.

i see a man carrying one red brick. he’s looking for a place to put it down. he is confused. he had no idea his day would involve carrying a brick AND making a decision. he needs a woman to tell him what do. this is rare because men, in his culture, are the boss and tell women what to do. they tell them to lie down and get ready for the big thing. he is confused about accepting loss forever. his wife wears the pants. she is the now.

i see an exuberant extraordinary solid particle cow patty land-mine in the middle of a red road. it’s a steaming green mountain.

it smells like an art project.

it will be discovered by a speeding SUV leaving a trace of aroma past sweeping weeping women. it will spread itself over olfactory landscapes.

it will create new tomorrows.

welcome to a new reality game show called

Watch Women Work

or evolution of the species and social organization (+-).

log on, log in, log the forest. yeah, yeah. i am mr. monosyllable, your crème-filled hostess cupcake for this week’s exciting program. yeah, yeah.

contestant #1. a housewife in a rural village. her task is sweeping dust into piles of dust outside her bamboo shack. she has all day to complete this arduous task. repeat. dust to dust. dawn to dusk. poetic ramifications in the theatre of the absurd.

contestant #2. a housewife. she has a house. she is a wife. she has 10 children. having children is her DUTY. sex for her is nothing but a DUTY. she is a duty free outlet. her price tag has expired. everything must go. many children gives her mother and extended family someone to love and play with and yell at. yelling at kids here is abNORMAL and healthy. it nurtures their self-esteem and neurotic stunted emotional prolonged adolescence with punctuation marks.

her husband sleeps. he loves sleeping, eating and making tool babies. he doesn’t have to carry them around for nine months and experience hormonal feelings. he sleeps forever dreaming of a hammock in a bamboo forest. their children are naked. they play with trash and sing a song, sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. they burn down the forest. fire is their funny game besides yelling and whining, feed me, feed me.

contestant #3. a housewife. she mills around without attention, focus, plan or direction. she teaches by example. she hopes lazy boys and girls grow up with initiative. she knows many won’t and don’t. she pounds an anvil all day. she is a worker, a tool of production in life’s assembly factory. a simple person, she spits out many well educated clever children. this is her duty.

contestant #4. a housewife. she works. her lazy adult son watches her. he is bored watching her. he stares at the long winding dirt road feasting his small beady soul window on dirt. his eyes are pure clean red dirt. she sweeps him into the river. swim, little fish. bye-bye baby, bye-bye. he floats away.

contestant #5. a housewife. she has a diamond in her mind. she is calm and focused. she exhales beauty, truth and love. she sings all day long.

pick one to emulate with incentive and initiative and win BIG prizes.

what’s the prize? a broom, a brick, an SUV smashing a green cow patty and a garish monster home shaped like a wedding cake surrounded by a moat, walls, silver barb wire and iridescent colored candles.

anything else?

a year’s subscription to your favorite illustrated color glossy advertising magazine: “Dreams, Lies, Wishes, Hopes, and Great Expectations While Driving a Blue Dismal Diesel Dump Truck Loaded with Ice Needing an Overhaul.”

cool prizes. let’s play.

Offstage Socrates said, my quest-ion is:

How do you live a good life?

Quest-ions gathered to discuss this.

destiny’s child disguised as a black and vermillion butterfly nurtured red and orange hibiscus above a wide flowing river.

see you next week on watch women work.

*

  Away from Ice Girl’s eyes new wet season life shimmered green rice paddies.

Beauty, creativity, dance, and music described sensations.

Sensations rested between an object and a concept.

  Stimuli engaged disquiet between notes.

  How do you manifest this waking dream, said Ice Girl.

  It’s all process with mindfulness said Leo.

Ice Girl in Banlung