It Would Not Matter Tomorrow

It Would Not Matter Tomorrow

At least that is how he chose to bear and grin the anger, and the sadness that was exposed on his face. Everything took time to heal and somethings never healed at all. Snapped bones and disease he knew about, but the fragmented emotions they receded to a location that his ancestors called the soul. And to Caleb that was still mysterious.

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All we know now about these emotions is that they hide in the body until they can not hide. In time they become a disease that language recognizes, and from the beginning, they are a story, a narrative that forms what we call life–the force of being alive.
Maybe the genome for feelings will be discovered. Freud had hoped that chemistry would dismantle our need for neurosis, but neither Westinghouse, nor General Electric has provided much to go on.
One hundred and thirty years ago these dreams-things were the promise of charlatans. I am not sure much has changed. The more I can live with death the more I can live out my consciousness to its fullest.
………………………………………
Darkness is not sweet. You can not pretty-up a red-winged hawk flying away with a five pound Yorkie in its claws. But, shit happens. And when you are through watching that gruesome image fly away, a dear friend calls to say she is beginning treatment for lung cancer. And, did you know the boy that is maimed for life when his motorcycle slid off the road. He hit a patch of salt and sanding from winter. “No”, “he was not wearing a helmet.”

Where does healing come in? What exactly can be healed? Is it ever the mind and not the body, or ever the body and not the mind?
Essentially there are two elements that might concern us: one is light and the other is darkness. They are analogous to being awake and being asleep, to being conscious and being unconscious.
Someplace between these two polarities, we practice something called “falling ill” and “becoming well”. We exist on a plane between these extremities. The healing arts and sciences attempt to move energy along this loading line. When you fall ill you struggle to pick yourself up–this is the process of healing.

If I can help you with this process I am attempting to practice a healing scheme. I am going to use my emotions, whatever they are to understand you. And in the process of attempting to understand you, we might make a connection, a transference of energy between us. This fusion of energy might be just the additional guide that you need to discover your way back from the darkness and toward the light.
Nothing might change. But the transference of energy is felt and recognizable as a process. Guidance does not come from another’s knowing. Guidance is simply additional energy to light the way.
Good friends know this as Love

 

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st augustine, nostalgia is sad

st augustine has been a mixed blessing this year, but then again what has not been a mixed blessing as i ramble through my memories.  i might be leaving this place soon and i find myself not ready.  the winter has been chilly, the moon is waning and lyla died.

loss and letting-go is bearing down on me.  i feel it as exaggerated gravity.  a kind of electrically exaggerated gravity.  something that is both weighty and profound. let me illustrate it with a few images:

black and purple 2  as well as the pressure and the heightened sensitivity, there is a growing awareness that this 3rd phase of life will make the bumpy past seem smooth in comparison.  i could be wrong and i would gladly be wrong but it does seem to me that tragedy prevails at the end.  even if it was a comic ride for most of life, the end might be a relief–at best.

in any event, it has been a ghostly season.

ghostly winterit feels like mardi gras with no ash-wednesday.  don’t take this wrong–i like dark.  to paraphrase leonard, “you want it darker, turn off the light.”

turner stormto paraphrase leonard, “you want it darker, turn off the light.”

February 2nd, 2018

Wabi-Sabi: the artful dodger

There is a Japanese Art called:  Wabi-Sabi

     “According to Japanese legend, a young man named Sen no Rikyu sought to learn the elaborate set of customs known as the Way of Tea. He went to tea-master Takeeno Joo, who tested the younger man by asking him to tend the garden. Rikyu cleaned up debris and raked the ground until it was perfect, then scrutinized the immaculate garden. Before presenting his work to the master, he shook a cherry tree, causing a few flowers to spill randomly onto the ground.

To this day, the Japanese revere Rikyu as one who understood to his very core a deep cultural thread known as wabi-sabi. Emerging in the 15th century as a reaction to the prevailing aesthetic of lavishness, ornamentation, and rich materials, wabi-sabi is the art of finding beauty in imperfection and profundity in earthiness, of revering authenticity above all. In Japan, the concept is now so deeply ingrained that it’s difficult to explain to Westerners; no direct translation exists.”*

imperfect dulling piano

I immediately loved the concept.  I thrive on imperfection.  In fact it is the domain name for this web-blog.  Imperfestionism means that I am more in touch with the process than I am with the out-come.  I love the freedom that being imperfect gives to my otherwise very clever and competitive ego.  At this point all that I know of Wabi-Sabi is that I like the little that I know about it.   I like to believe that I can take that phrase from another culture and create out of it what I want it to mean to me.

I want wabi-sabi to mean to me that i can learn to approach everything that I want both spiritually and materially from the perspective of desire. I want to be able to decide for myself what is in my best interest and what I want to do.  I want to let people, places and things (the nouns)  impact upon me; and I want to be able to generate a feeling of either I like that, or I do not like that in response to all the universe can throw at me in life.

Photography, philosophy and psychoanalysis have been among my deepest passions and i am proud to report to you that I do all of them imperfectly well.  Experimentation in the creative arts is enhanced by a lack of concern for what other have to say to us.  As the brush teaches you how to create a stroke, or how an instrument teaches you how to make a sound, or how a patient teaches you what he needs in order to effectively sing better; your soul learns to listen to your body that has often been drowned out by the sound of the perpetually boastful, arrogant and dysfunctional ego.

Imperfection and impermanence carry the same connotation as selfishness.  They all seem to be some kind of back-bone to American values.  Olympians must be strong, with stand pain, be dangerous and fearless and must win.  These qualities are not qualities that lead to the simple life–the life that is guided by joyful moods and happy events.

Wabi-Sabi is not a thing or a state that everyone will want.  Some people will choose competition and fame as the road to their happiness.  Others, the art folks who follow The Artist’s way, would not be able to thrive in a competitive environment.  For those souls, they must find a way to detach from the desire for perfection to be accepted, and attach to the desire to be accepted by your deeper self.

Meditation is a great example of wabi-sabi.  Who does it perfectly?  Meditation is beautiful in its imperfection.  That is one of the reason why people who do it return to it.  It works to re-align the body and the soul.  It search for the realignment  between are heart-felt desires and our ability to let ourselves want what we want.

I am glad that I found the word.  Wabi-Sabi is a new thing that I want to allow myself to have.

Below is a manifestation of selfish imperfection.  It is selfish because my interest is about this piece pleasing me. I wanted it to provide me with meditative moments, especially while in the process of creating it. Secondly  its impermanence is inherent.  Paper and card board to not exist forever.  The shelf-life of paper is relatively impermanent in geologic time.

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excerpt from a ransom blog

Images of Galleon in St. Augustine

Galleion

As I mentioned in the previous post, I pass by this 17th century Spanish War Ship each day that I cross from Anastasia Island to Cathedral Square.  I want to post a few more photo-impressionisms of this glorious work of art.  It is both beautiful and an architectural wonder.  Yet, we can not forget its purpose.  It was build to be a massively destructive war ship…so much for the fusion of desire and aggression.

But desire and aggression are not the issue this morning blog.  This ship is the center-fold.  Please enjoy a few more digitally crafted images of the Spanish Galleon.

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The above image is from a dictionary definition of Galleon, a ship built for war.  Don’t you just love the art of pen & ink.  I do, a precise, clean, black and white and grey rendition of the world.

Speaking of black & white this is a photo taken at sunset looking west over the town.

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Here she is, as if ready for a sun set cruise.  What must it have been like to live on one of these or to be and Oar-man on one of these.  The world must have appeared very small and dirty.  Yet with the sun setting on her bow, she looks pretty as a princess ready for a ball.

IMG_4358I could post more shots of this ship and when I board her to get a close up, I am sure that I will add details.