MOODS
OLD DRAWINGS, NEW WAYS OF SEEING
I am subrenting/sharing a studio half an hour drive away in Utrecht. I am sorting
out my stored collected works of art.
Also, trying to see with new eyes, seeing archetypal theme’s/patterns reappearing.
Who am I ?
Tree-ing, seeking sanctuary, embodying a natural flow.
Am I “made of good wood?"
I have many faces, masking, unmasking. Torn apart and reassembled. Facing Destruction.
Daring to feel “it”, feeling my fears and tears. Be seen, and be held.
May the healing begin and never end.
What am I? A rose is a rose, is a rose?
Contracting and expanding light/Love.
Full-filling and falling at the same time.
I look in and I look out. Opening.
My I/me/mine becomes a living mirror, a window, a door. Calling in my soul. The Breath of life,
Seeking roots and divine guidance. Remembering I am a devine being. I am-ing.
Today (November 14 2024)
I looked at some of my drawings and writings (period 2017-2022). Delving into the lines, atomspheres, forms forming. Seeking for what they are telling me. What is their soul story?
Opening doors of perception. Receiving insights. Anchoring them in. Searching for timeless wisdom.
Tree-ing. See-ing. Hanging in there.
I live the seasons.
Fresh new greens sprout out. And there comes a time of shrinking, barren-ing and becoming a skeleton in the dark. Both beginnings and endings happen.
Not once, each year, again, and may be even more often, it is as if cycles in cycles are happening.
I feel deeply held by the earth. I am an earthling. And more. A receiving being. A receiver.
Of the ever-present Origin.
May be I am not so much “tree-ing”, as catching the wind.
Letting the wind blow through, inviting the birds to nest in, or fly above.
Emerald green, the heart within the heart can be fully felt.
I often seek refuge in nature. Living with the birds, the grasses, the sea, the sand, the shells.
Receiving and gathering seashells.
Shape shifting, sea creatures swimming, shells dropping and transforming. Showing their after glow.
Imagination as concentrated attention brings hidden wisdom to life. Interiority flows out.
Dying is a birthing, forming reforming, dissolving endlessly, on and on.
My head blows clear, the outer landscape opens wide inside.
Dark eyes turning inwards, and the breath softens and drips.
A great melting happens. A kiss deep in the abyss.This is not a drowning.
Obstacles like stones and hardrocks appear.
A great screaming wells up. The not yet melted wounds need to be spit out..
And I need to let the greening and growing do the work through me. Deeper and deeper. Leaf by leaf. Cellulair.
And I need to dance and lean. Letting the vitalizing and rising up begin from this deep trust within.
Dying to be me.
Me? Am i a vulcano, burning fire, or a wild sea? A colorful rainbow tree? A river of white light opens to the right. This not knowing is my path. A blanco path of Love/Light. Life is changing, on and on. And I open to move with changing on.
A timeless timeline, evolving. Blanco. Not-knowing.
Where am I going?
Tree-ing on.
This tree is growing and grounding. Embodying all moods and appearances. All possible emotions, joys and sadnesses. They come and go. Me/she is a wisdom holder. She is a treasure keeper. A feminine embodied spirit. Cut open, so everyone can see through.
Me/she is being seeded. With seeds of light. To nourish life. To be fully present. To give.