100103 03:13
As constellated stars singing in their courses
we are similitude suffering the events of our lives as
pearls strung together necklaces significant the polarity
towards our true purpose in the sands of time hours treasured
souls bourne conscious precious discovered six sided snow flakes unique
received immortal love bestowed by the beloved.
<“ 05:11>
What I wrote above, if it be a poem, it is not my authorship, but an attempt to translate a dream into comprehensible symbol.
Visual representations of the numinous mark the earth from the beginning of time, before time was accountable.
We, collectively, have passed the point of no return in our efforts to deface the earth from existence and ourselves along in consequence. I write for neither myself, or God, but for you to know that there is a future beyond death. In that future gender, age, race and creed are meaningless since there is only Truth and God and God is Love.
For the gift of consciousness there is no purpose save to save yourself from adoration of things instead of life.
There are many avenues of approach, all lead to the end in God’s intention of life given freely to us. God’s absolute genius is in giving us free will. Those who I saw as enemies of myself and all life, remain mirrors of myself at various ages, stages, fears and thirst for safety. I give all discernment to God’s decision for me and all life. In that, I am tranquil with the inevitable. Fully conscious that death is not the issue, yet the time and manor of dying slowly is for some a terror, but for me, I am now aware that I began to die at birth.
I longed to escape the trials, sorrows, agony of life lived in the tyranny of those with authority over me, my day, hour, minute never known in safety, security or sanity.
God neither kills, nor enslaves anyone, or anything--we do.
I do not consider myself wise, nor do I consider myself, at any point, worthy of the Love of God freely given us. But of you, dear reader, I love your life and suggest that you love it as well, and as of greater value than all the money in the world. Chose wisely since you have nothing more valuable than your love freely spent.
Monday, January 4, 2010
. . . love affair with light called photography
100103 08:53
Regarding my continuing love affair with light called photography. The technical aspects have become more accessible than ever before in the history of the art, craft and technology. And they are swiftly becoming more so.
The objective of recording light--by any means--is just fine where it is for me for now. All my ambitions to be, as dad suggested, “rich and famous,” have fallen by the wayside.
I failed his agenda for want of the courage to seek the attention of the authorities judging the worth of my output, product or intentions. Such accomplishments that I have had, have no evidence now; the negatives, prints and slides lost, destroyed or abandoned.
The monolithic potential of Photoshop CS4 was too intimidating and held my ambitions outside in the cold for fear of my failure in using it, was the final proof, I was actually “too stupid to get in out of the rain.” And too well remembered and rehearsed, “You have diarrhea of the mouth!” I was devastated and only now recall he was referring to my curiosity about everything.
As for the various formats, and brand names, I have used professionally, to moderate, never paying for the privilege of ownership, income--is a source of acute embarrassment now.
Above and beyond this consideration, I have always favored what I call “toy” cameras; more accurately defined as ‘amateur.’ The potential theft while working in the impoverished ecology and infrastructure of our society dictated that I use what I could afford to lose.
My final determination is that photography has been kind to me and made my life possible outside the precincts of my self-isolation. A--not uncommon--profile for many photographers; professional or amateur.
Inherent in the medium, is a miraculous ability to make of the final image, with or without the rigors of classical discipline and training of, or implied in, all the arts--a cultural icon. Simply the attention paid to the least object, subject or event can move from record to memorial of important truths for all of us. From cartoon to mural in an instant.
If i am touched by grace, as I believe we all are, then the symbiosis is plain. All mediums are irrelevant since the message remains: worthy or unworthy of our attention. Ignore the song in you heart at you peril.
Some are generous in theft to fill their void--an abyss.
Our Parent receives our humble gestures of love. . . . ignoring all else?
Regarding my continuing love affair with light called photography. The technical aspects have become more accessible than ever before in the history of the art, craft and technology. And they are swiftly becoming more so.
The objective of recording light--by any means--is just fine where it is for me for now. All my ambitions to be, as dad suggested, “rich and famous,” have fallen by the wayside.
I failed his agenda for want of the courage to seek the attention of the authorities judging the worth of my output, product or intentions. Such accomplishments that I have had, have no evidence now; the negatives, prints and slides lost, destroyed or abandoned.
The monolithic potential of Photoshop CS4 was too intimidating and held my ambitions outside in the cold for fear of my failure in using it, was the final proof, I was actually “too stupid to get in out of the rain.” And too well remembered and rehearsed, “You have diarrhea of the mouth!” I was devastated and only now recall he was referring to my curiosity about everything.
As for the various formats, and brand names, I have used professionally, to moderate, never paying for the privilege of ownership, income--is a source of acute embarrassment now.
Above and beyond this consideration, I have always favored what I call “toy” cameras; more accurately defined as ‘amateur.’ The potential theft while working in the impoverished ecology and infrastructure of our society dictated that I use what I could afford to lose.
My final determination is that photography has been kind to me and made my life possible outside the precincts of my self-isolation. A--not uncommon--profile for many photographers; professional or amateur.
Inherent in the medium, is a miraculous ability to make of the final image, with or without the rigors of classical discipline and training of, or implied in, all the arts--a cultural icon. Simply the attention paid to the least object, subject or event can move from record to memorial of important truths for all of us. From cartoon to mural in an instant.
If i am touched by grace, as I believe we all are, then the symbiosis is plain. All mediums are irrelevant since the message remains: worthy or unworthy of our attention. Ignore the song in you heart at you peril.
Some are generous in theft to fill their void--an abyss.
Our Parent receives our humble gestures of love. . . . ignoring all else?
. . . that which is inherant . . . physics and spirit . . .
100104 00:15
There is nothing unique in me beyond that which is inherent in all life. Specific to life is a combination of physics and spirit; conscious to our species, what we call the family of mankind; in creation. All mountains eventually die becoming desert. I don’t know why I know this, I just do. And though, at my age, I am unable to climb them, mountains remain seen from above, my soul soars over them. Yet at other times lays dormant within the stone becoming sand.
I see, feel, intuit and think this experience in all life.
As I knew at the time of my daughters birth, witnessed, and at another time the life of my son, that they were to precede me in death.
I am momentarily conscious that I died both times yet remain alive. Why?
I fell asleep two hours ago and had a dream wherein I was debating the meaning of: antecedence, precedence and now.
Reincarnation makes me wild, the thought of it coupled with Karma drives me nearly insane. I love God to the extent, kind, degree and will that I accede my soul, as I know myself to have and be, without limit or condition. I revere this quality in others and respect the absence of it in others in equal measure. I can not parse nor triage myself further reductively.
Herein lays the end of what propelled me from my rest.
I may have appeared silent as a serpent asleep to my mother while she abused me. My conclusion is that instinctively I knew to cry, or otherwise protest, was pointless and may have caused her to murder me. Though she tore my heart out and castrated me, metaphorically, I remain alive. Why?
I have written in recent time, and previously, that the world will end. And I remain in prayer that my ‘prophecy’ is not self-fulfilling. I have experienced the death of others and myself witnessed internally and externally and want only to know the end of pain, suffering and death.
In my life I know myself alive, or saved, by Jesus who, in my estimate and esteem, was sacrificed to end all fear of death. My ‘fear’ of God describes better my consistent surprise and joy at God’s being real.
I have been randomly collecting quotes for the past several months. I know them better than the Bible which I can only now read with astonishment. I refuse to debate, or contest with anyone, on any basis, the truth of what I discovered upon awaking. I left yesterdays entries and collected quotes open in my word processor:
--Native American
"We have walked together in the shadow of a rainbow."
---Naomi Shihab Nye
"Before you know what kindness really is, you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment... Only kindness that raises its head from the crowd of the world to say 'it is I you have been looking for' and then goes with you everywhere, like a shadow or a friend."
--Nelson Mandela
"Money won't create success, the freedom to make it will."
I write to teach, to heal--myself and those who might read what I write. There is no fiction in my intent nor any motive to amuse.
There is nothing unique in me beyond that which is inherent in all life. Specific to life is a combination of physics and spirit; conscious to our species, what we call the family of mankind; in creation. All mountains eventually die becoming desert. I don’t know why I know this, I just do. And though, at my age, I am unable to climb them, mountains remain seen from above, my soul soars over them. Yet at other times lays dormant within the stone becoming sand.
I see, feel, intuit and think this experience in all life.
As I knew at the time of my daughters birth, witnessed, and at another time the life of my son, that they were to precede me in death.
I am momentarily conscious that I died both times yet remain alive. Why?
I fell asleep two hours ago and had a dream wherein I was debating the meaning of: antecedence, precedence and now.
Reincarnation makes me wild, the thought of it coupled with Karma drives me nearly insane. I love God to the extent, kind, degree and will that I accede my soul, as I know myself to have and be, without limit or condition. I revere this quality in others and respect the absence of it in others in equal measure. I can not parse nor triage myself further reductively.
Herein lays the end of what propelled me from my rest.
I may have appeared silent as a serpent asleep to my mother while she abused me. My conclusion is that instinctively I knew to cry, or otherwise protest, was pointless and may have caused her to murder me. Though she tore my heart out and castrated me, metaphorically, I remain alive. Why?
I have written in recent time, and previously, that the world will end. And I remain in prayer that my ‘prophecy’ is not self-fulfilling. I have experienced the death of others and myself witnessed internally and externally and want only to know the end of pain, suffering and death.
In my life I know myself alive, or saved, by Jesus who, in my estimate and esteem, was sacrificed to end all fear of death. My ‘fear’ of God describes better my consistent surprise and joy at God’s being real.
I have been randomly collecting quotes for the past several months. I know them better than the Bible which I can only now read with astonishment. I refuse to debate, or contest with anyone, on any basis, the truth of what I discovered upon awaking. I left yesterdays entries and collected quotes open in my word processor:
--Native American
"We have walked together in the shadow of a rainbow."
---Naomi Shihab Nye
"Before you know what kindness really is, you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment... Only kindness that raises its head from the crowd of the world to say 'it is I you have been looking for' and then goes with you everywhere, like a shadow or a friend."
--Nelson Mandela
"Money won't create success, the freedom to make it will."
I write to teach, to heal--myself and those who might read what I write. There is no fiction in my intent nor any motive to amuse.
. . . by whom I am too easily seduced and too reverent.
100104 01:20
Many different ways/paths/directions I could go, at the moment, present themselves. It seems there are two components prevalent in our collective consciousness: terrorism/reaction, attack/reprisal.
If I love my enemy, as Jesus suggests, I know the enemy, as myself, and those who would kill me for knowing them. I think we are being held captive to our vanity; our power.
“Be innocent as a dove and wily as a fox.”
I know from my own greed to be loved the origins of avarice, addiction, compulsive/impulsive, loss of self-restraint; resulting in aberrant or ‘abnormal’ behavior.
The Great Prayer, called The Lords Prayer helps--but for me The Serenity Prayer is a my last resort.
<“ 02:25>
Derived from childhood teaching, I have long thought myself stupid, in both the medical and metaphorical sense. Additionally that my life was worthless and unworthy of love. To be self-educated is to be in love with knowledge and wisdom received as gift; any day celebrated in which it is received and acknowledged. Lazarus, as described in Chapter 11 of The Gospel of John, has fascinated me since first reading. This night I wandered through all the treads available on Wikipedia and was stunned by my discoveries.
Had i not been trained otherwise I would cry for the simple messages in The Sermon on The Mount. Jesus trumps everything, time and again. I believe myself inspired or lead to read.
If I am saved I tarry in disregard for myself. It is only for you, dear reader, if there be any, that I would touch your life and heal it. I cannot actually do anything that Jesus did but in my humiliation only suggest that you attend your life before losing it. Though I may die at any moment I am at peace that my life/soul/whatever I am, is safe.
I have often been wrong in my estimate and/or esteem of others, especially woman, for/by whom I am too easily seduced and too reverent.
But I remain virginal in my awe of the universe I see in all others.
Mother would occasionally say, “In life we must learn we are no more significant than a single grain of sand.” I am often humiliated to be so in the presence and awareness of God; and you.
Although the sensibility of human experience may, or may not, live upon this planet for one day, or a trillion years longer, my love is such that I cannot despise avarice though it destroy me/you/us. Least I kill myself in self-loathing.
Why are the best and brightest of our era selling us slavery, while eating our lives? Or merely celebrating making us redundant? A burden on their agenda.
Many different ways/paths/directions I could go, at the moment, present themselves. It seems there are two components prevalent in our collective consciousness: terrorism/reaction, attack/reprisal.
If I love my enemy, as Jesus suggests, I know the enemy, as myself, and those who would kill me for knowing them. I think we are being held captive to our vanity; our power.
“Be innocent as a dove and wily as a fox.”
I know from my own greed to be loved the origins of avarice, addiction, compulsive/impulsive, loss of self-restraint; resulting in aberrant or ‘abnormal’ behavior.
The Great Prayer, called The Lords Prayer helps--but for me The Serenity Prayer is a my last resort.
<“ 02:25>
Derived from childhood teaching, I have long thought myself stupid, in both the medical and metaphorical sense. Additionally that my life was worthless and unworthy of love. To be self-educated is to be in love with knowledge and wisdom received as gift; any day celebrated in which it is received and acknowledged. Lazarus, as described in Chapter 11 of The Gospel of John, has fascinated me since first reading. This night I wandered through all the treads available on Wikipedia and was stunned by my discoveries.
Had i not been trained otherwise I would cry for the simple messages in The Sermon on The Mount. Jesus trumps everything, time and again. I believe myself inspired or lead to read.
If I am saved I tarry in disregard for myself. It is only for you, dear reader, if there be any, that I would touch your life and heal it. I cannot actually do anything that Jesus did but in my humiliation only suggest that you attend your life before losing it. Though I may die at any moment I am at peace that my life/soul/whatever I am, is safe.
I have often been wrong in my estimate and/or esteem of others, especially woman, for/by whom I am too easily seduced and too reverent.
But I remain virginal in my awe of the universe I see in all others.
Mother would occasionally say, “In life we must learn we are no more significant than a single grain of sand.” I am often humiliated to be so in the presence and awareness of God; and you.
Although the sensibility of human experience may, or may not, live upon this planet for one day, or a trillion years longer, my love is such that I cannot despise avarice though it destroy me/you/us. Least I kill myself in self-loathing.
Why are the best and brightest of our era selling us slavery, while eating our lives? Or merely celebrating making us redundant? A burden on their agenda.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)