...or not

Resonant: Having a lasting presence or effect; enduring. Strongly reminiscent; evocative.
Enigma: A person or thing that is mysterious, puzzling, or difficult to understand.

Some things you might find here: Paintings; drawings; abstract and representational; sketches; doodles; photos; thoughts on art and its processes, my influences; thoughts on meditation and so-called "spiritual" teachings, non duality, Taoism, Zen, etc., and teahers/sages like Chuang Tzu, Lao Tzu, Krishnamurti (both), Wei Wu Wei (Terence Gray), Galen Sharp, Steven Norquist, Eckhart Tolle, Ramana Maharshi, etc.... and doG knows what else, really...

No sidebar because I like to post big pictures. Lists and whatnot are at the bottom.

Saturday, April 11, 2015

R mode


Sans Barn, 3.5x5.0" ballpoint in sketchpad

Sometimes I'm amazed by how little difference (none, exactly) it makes what thoughts are going through my head when I get to the point of putting pen (pencil, whatever) to paper. All that jibber-jabber goes out to the edge somewhere - I still know they're there, but - for the duration my conscious focus fills with shapes, lines, textures... How can I put it into words? The drawing is what I was thinking.
They used to call it "R Mode," (don't know if "they" still do) because it's the type of mentation characterized by more activity in the right hemisphere of the brain than in the left. Best I recollect, some controversy arose over just how physically lateralized this activity turned out to be, each of us being different and all. All I do know is, when I'm "in it," speech and all its worries are somewhere else.
Kinda like Frederick Franck said in The Zen of Seeing, "It establishes an island of silence, an oasis of undivided attention, an environment to recover in..."

Oh yeah, regarding the title of this little sketch: When I first looked up on this little hill and thought, "Draw it!" there was a barn. I put it off because it was late summer and all the foliage was so thick I couldn't get the view I wanted. I resolved to come back in winter, when the trees were bare. Too cold, my car heater wasn't working. "Spring," I thought, and when I finally got around to it, they'd razed the damn barn. Cue laughter at self, procrastination. So today the sun was just right and they've put up one of those orange construction site fences that caught the light so bright, it was like it was mocking me for missing the barn. So I put it in the drawing, that whitish bar across the whole top of the hill there.


Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Overlooking the Overlook, Wishing Well, Crowley's Ridge State Park


"It isn't easy. Nobody has ever done it consistently. Those who try
hardest, scare it off into the woods. Those who turn their backs and
saunter along, whistling softly between their teeth, hear it treading
quietly behind them, lured by a carefully acquired disdain.
 We are of course speaking of The Muse.
 The Feeding of the Muse seems to me to be the continual running after
loves, the checking of these loves against one's present and future
needs, the moving on from simple textures to more complex ones, from
naive ones to more informed ones, from nonintellectual to intellectual
ones. Nothing is ever lost. If you have moved over vast territories and
dared to love silly things, you will have learned even from the most
primitive items collected and put aside in your life. From an ever-
roaming curiosity in all the arts, from bad radio to good theatre, from
nursery rhyme to symphony, from jungle compound to Kafka's Castle, there
is basic excellence to be winnowed out, truths found, kept, savored, and
used on some later day. To be a child of one's time is to do all these
 - Ray Bradbury (via http://whiskeyriver.blogspot.com)


Saturday, April 4, 2015

What is aware of this...?

I awe of the reality
of awareness
the least thing
is a miracle
Dogs barking