“My heart is not captured easily. I am
disinterested in small talk,
disillusioned with love, and too focused
on my dreams and aspirations to
lend anybody my attention for long.
But if we make that connection,
if you find your way into my heart,
God, I will fall for you like gravity has
let go of the earth.”
Painting by Enki Bilal
The forest comforts me
I fall back on her branches
and she envelops me
when everything else fails
she is there solid and rooted
impassive although
infinite in her love
hiding in her boughs
with the tailed ones
the mother of all mothers
heals me
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly, and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story. Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love – for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you from misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Poem by Dylan Thomas
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
I live in the 12th house
Where the echoes are as vivid as dreams
Echoes of victory
reminding me
that nothing is forever but the dream.
Fool yourself once, fool yourself twice
It doesn’t matter.
The last step before relinquishing the body
is not for the faint of hearts.
You do not wonder here
You surrender.
All the bad decision summoned as an offering
An offering to the bad spirits who resides here.
Beyond the frontiers of the mundane,
beyond the frontiers of the known.
Contemplating nothingness
Decadence of the unconscious
and all that it entails.
Echoes of victory
are but a dream to remind you
that nothing is forever but the dream.
Power is useless in the 12th house
The light is dim, there is no path.
We go within and we go without.
Listening to the echoes, fooled once, fooled twice
It doesn’t matter.
In a house without owners
dining on solitude and wine.
Away from prying eyes
Praying
Drinking
Praying
Undoing
FULL MOON IN PISCES-SATURDAY AUGUST 29 2015 @ 2:35 PM EDT.
This weekend’s full moon makes me think of the boat builder who finally gets to bring his boat on the ocean to see how it will sail. What happens once he goes out and launches his boat on the big open waters? Well first of all, there is an element of surrendering. After the work is done, each step carefully followed: stem. keel, moulds, battens, timbers, and planking, the builder is relying on his faith. Faith in his work, faith in the techniques used and the knowledge passed down from generations. Something else is at work here, and even though the boat builder is a skilled artisan, ultimately once he puts his boat on the water it doesn’t matter how much he knows about buoyancy because the ocean has the last word.
How does an object of art comes to be born?
It starts with a flash of insight, a vague image, a sensation of the shape to come. Inspiration, like the ocean has its own will. It is not controlled easily and in order for the artist to create, he must surrender to the process. The role of the artist is to translate the vision into form. We all have access to the realm of the intangible through our imagination, at night through dreams or through artificial paradise. But to bring back these visions and put them into forms takes a lot of hard work!
Sometime you look at a painting and you say: ”I could of totally painted that!” Why is this artist getting praise for something that is seamingly so easy to do?
Well the answer is simple: Because he did it and not you. He took the vision and brought it into form. It’s a very simple idea but the hardest step, because it takes practice. To materialise, to pull out the dream, out of the void and make something tangible you need to do it often. To be good at something you need to do it every day. In order to actually materialise the vision, you must try and try again, day after day until it becomes like a second nature. Until you become a passage for the dream to pass through. Until you become the voice for the soul of the world, a translator of the intangible: that is the role of the artist.
I really like this quote from Terence McKenna:
“The creative act is a letting down of the net of human imagination into the ocean of chaos on which we are suspended, and the attempt to bring out of it ideas.”
This weekend’s full moon is illuminating the paradox between our imagination and reality. Between what we would like our life to be and the daily rituals we do to get there. What you do, day after day and how it shapes your destiny. The master piece is your life and the balance between surrendering to it and shaping it takes skills. You don’t want to be a total control freak, but you also know that drifting aimlessly is a sure way to feel sorry for yourself. Go with the flow but where is the flow going?
God is in the details expresses the idea that whatever one does should be done thoroughly. When you pay attention to the details, the whole becomes a masterpiece. What you do with your days, how you fill them, the work, the habits, the rituals is how you shape your life.
So what are you creating?
★
Go to the spring where the fairy lives
Fill your cup with the magical waters
and sing with them in praise of the absolute
And when you come back to the city
where the cynical man dwells
remember the song that filled you with joy
and sing it.
Let your instinctual shadows
Turn into the words that
you whisper
in your morning prayers
A ritual offering to your fears
Let the darkness seep through
And witness how it becomes wind
Let it be
a stepping stone
a work in progress
a servant without chains
Enter the wild places within you
Like you enter the forest
Humble and open
without apologies
You are the hunter
and you are the prey
There is no perfection
And that in itself is
perfect
Surrender your mind
To the universal visions.
Dream speaks
a language that can only be understood
with sensations.
There is a smoke screen between your awareness and the truth.
Go to music and let the message settle in other ways
Prayers at dawn and love for breakfast.
Keeping the ideal in your minds eyes
A spiritual renewal for the unallocated soul
A daily offering to continuity
Standing at the edge – there is no ending
Only bliss
Man of this earth,
Your hands are busy crafting, shaping ideas into forms
Touching wood, feeling for perfection
Turning romance into a work in progress
Your habits becomes an hymn
Whisper in my ear, your to-do list,
messages from the gods.
A healthy dose of fresh air, makes you a careful lover.
The Sun is setting, you make a fire
with your hands, you shape tomorrow.
There is a lot of work to be done
and you will rise with the Sun
birds chirping and all.
9th House 