Art and Zen

Survival

I might live another thirty years.  Will that be enough time to ... do nothing.

A talk on Ted suggests that doing nothing for ten minutes a day, otherwise known as meditation, is good for the mind.  We are no longer present in the world, he says, and we miss out on ... I forget what. 

"Now" is underrated, he says, juggling three red balls.  Doing nothing doesn't change anything that happens to us, he admits.

I wonder if sitting in front of the television counts.  One can spend ten minutes flipping channels. 

Anyway...  I can't juggle. 

I can't knock the theory though.  I realise now that drawing did not spring from innate creativity. I never thought of my drawings as anything more than doodles. It served the same purpose as juggling three red balls. One can draw and observe the most predominant thoughts at the same time.  One can even speak and watch movies at the same time. My creative periods fell into the blocks of time fraught with predominantly untoward thoughts.  It subdued my ego's demand for reaction.

Is the sum of man the action he takes to observe and then subdue his worrying thoughts?  Happy is the man who chooses an action that produces something which others think they need.  Are artists not all tortured souls?  Is work not art?  The engineer, the scientist, the doctor, the plumber ... All work is art for whatever it is we choose to do, there's an art to it.

Moving on

A bedroom scene. Relationship.  Hello my lovely.  Don't speak to me. I'm still processing the last thing you did.  But, I did this new thing. For you! Oh, really?  Yes.  Oh, that's wonderful. Joy. Smiles and then kisses.  No nakedness. No raunchy sex.  None of that. 

Is this a test? Jason Bourne asked.
"It's all a test," Man with clipboard said.

Global Front

Once you get onto the street, you get to stay on the street.  Ask any street person. 

Just a Thought

A boy gets a horse. Everyone says that is wonderful.  The Zen master says, "We'll see."
The boy falls off the horse and breaks his leg. Everyone says that's just terrible. The Zen master says, "We'll see."

Mr Hoffman's character, Gus, in Charlie Wilson's war.

Oddness.

Survival

I don't know how to make a fire without matches.
I don't know if I can make a fire with matches. 
I don't know how to collect water from dew.
I can't even grow pumpkins successfully. 
Right now cooking pumpkin is a challenge. 
I do know that vinegar and baking soda saves the pot.

Strange news.

The house has been over run with ants for a while - since Christmas I think.  First little black sugar ants are. They came earlier than Christmas, but they didn't make too much noise.

I put sugar on the windowsill. Then I found out a big lump in a new packet of sugar and left it on the windowsill.  The little black ants did their best, but the lump is still there. .

Then millions of red ants arrived. They took over the black ants' sugar lump and just about anything else if I didn't remember to put it away in a sealed container. About ten black ants ventured into the spice cupboard.  I left them alone.  No harm.

Last night I burned my vegetables as usual.  I put the remains on a plate and thought I could still eat that.  Not too tasty.  I forgot to remove the plate from the counter.

Would you believe that there were no ants feasting on the remains this morning?  Okay.  It was not too tasty. 

I left the sugar bowl on the counter too.  No ants. 

The lump of sugar on the windowsill has not one ant on it.  The ants have departed. 

Why did they come? Why did they leave?

On the global front.

The leaders in Peru, Egypt and the Ukraine resigned and disappeared over night.

Just a thought.

Do we have enough plumbers?

Love and Light, my lovelies.

When I am 64

I sometimes press "Next Blog"  which is both pleasing and a tad uncomfortable. 

Why can't I write nice little blogs with recipes or how to make pretty valentine tree arrangements with glued on sweets that say "I love you" ?

I know!  I know!  It's because I am not 24/34/54 anymore.  I remember being creative then. 

I did have fun with glue and paper and sweets even.  Made a Christmas tree from a bit of old aloe and the decorations with ... whatever and glitter once.

Next year.  When I am 64.  If I remember.

The Fan

I felt in the right place, if I can put it like that, at the right time. 

One easily is not.

It's like leaping between the wings of a giant fan. 
Whoosh - Whoosh !

You can be too scared,
Too eager and 
Miscalculate. 

It's a proper blessing when space and time play nicely. 
You get to fall in love, with your soul, all over again.

Love and Light

The Hawk

At this time ...

Shaken on the sidewalk,
soul floating like a lost hawk
high on fume and fairy tale
bewildered by the very scale.
Past glories seem small now;
Future victories, shallow.

At this time ...

Tired of feeling so lost.
Weary of the last post.
We will not die of death today.
We still have so much to say.
Lost hawks found home in the shade
I dug the weeds out with my spade.


The distance between the last line of the first verse, and the first line of the second, is only a day.
The distance between first lines of both verses, however, is more than a year.

The Light has broken through.

What happened?  Yesterday my teacher called and he said:  "I will pray for you."

Love and Light my Lovelies.