Archive for the ‘PENNY FOR MY THOUGHTS’ Category

the art of improvisation

Saturday, February 13th, 2010

THE ART OF IMPROVISATION

Two albums I find myself listening to almost compulsively are Paris/London – Testament and the sublime La Scala, jazz piano by the master of improvisation, Keith Jarrett. From waterfall to abstract, every note is profoundly transformational, as it proceeds to seep into the fabric of my own work. The random and chasing La Scala Part 2 lends itself perfectly to increasingly abstract improvised creative moments with a brush, with achingly romantic sections that pull every heart string. The art-jazz influence is not new, but continues to be a great inspiration.
YouTube hosts some great footage of live Jarrett, as well as the documentary, The Art Of Improvisation. While watching this fascinating overview of Jarrett & The Trio speaking about their approach to making music, the parallels to certain forms of art creation and abstract painting, in terms of  process, are striking.
What is also notable is the legendary telepathic ability that operates between Jarrett, DeJohnette and Peacock, that allows them to synchronize during improvised sets; it is impossible to not be inspired by art creation of such mastery.

‘There’s never been a time when improvisation was given the respect that it deserved. By the virtue of the holistic quality of it, it takes everything to do it, it takes real time, no editing possible, it takes your nervous system to be on alert for every possible thing, in a way that cannot be said for any other kind of music.

One of the biggest fallacies I think in art circles, and in music circles maybe, when people talk about it, is that music comes from music… It’s like saying babies come from babies, that it’s not true, it isn’t what happens, music is the result of a process that the musician goes through, especially if he’s creating it on the spot.’ Keith Jarrett

‘What we do as a trio is, is we have a canvas in front of us, and you know intuitively this goes, and the thought process and the intuitive process all happen in that one action.’ Jack DeJohnette

‘First the music enters us, and if the music enters you then you’ve not have to worry so much about what to play, the music is telling you what to play… you just ride along, flow through it… when we are playing something in time and we get a lock, that’s not us! I mean how is that possible? How can that happen?’ Gary Peacock

Exerts borrowed from the documentary Keith Jarrett – The Art Of Improvisation

Blu & David Ellis

Tuesday, December 29th, 2009

PRESS PLAY

One of my favourite YouTube vids this year, check it out…

Blu & David Ellis, YouTube

~

intelligent design ~ comment

Monday, December 28th, 2009

In reference to the Kryon exert from The Great Scientific Bias (Vlog: Intelligent Design), a few things struck me;

Φ The idea of twin energies, or polarities in the middle of our galaxy, reminds me of the spiraling yin~yang symbol… I’m not a believer in coincidence.

Φ The concept that every galaxy is connected to every other via its center further reminds me of a Buddhist concept describing all life everywhere strung together like a string of beads.

Φ I had a dream some years ago of tentatively observing Palestinian trucks driving through the center of Israel in celebration, with sprayed-on messages of peace daubed across the vehicles in Arabic script. While the atmosphere still remained delicate, the dream presented images of the beginning of lasting peace. This dream has begun to make more sense in the light of Kryon’s information with regard to the potentials for peace on earth; ‘as go the Jews, goes the earth’.

Φ Kryon’s concept of the Wild Card is an important one, expecting the unexpected. Our traditional concept of time is linear, because it is the way that we have been experiencing it, and yet the reality may be that we exist in ‘folded space-time’. The significance being that as we shift into a quantum way of being, we may well have a clearer sense of future potentials, and the ability to jump folds to tweak the past and present for an outcome that is in greater alignment with our personal journeys. This would give us enhanced creative control over our experiences while incarnate, potentially making miracles an everyday phenomena.

V


pigeon enlightenment

Monday, December 28th, 2009

Pigeon Enlightenment 2009 by Vesna Milinkovic

This morning in Finsbury Park while running off Christmas, I passed the same guy (I’m calling him Frank) still polishing his very shiny black car and joyfully blasting tunes from his car stereo. Really makes me smile. I also ran passed a woman in a black cloak trying to enlighten a pigeon by repeating ‘Spirit’ to the bird. I think the pigeon was on the verge of an awakening.

V


happy birthday

Thursday, December 24th, 2009

Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday Mr.President
Happy Birthday to you

X

Gomez~style crimbo

Thursday, December 24th, 2009

Barbara Ana Gomez, illustrator extraordinaire, thanks Barbara!

Merry Christmas by Barbara Ana Gomez

lifequake

Friday, December 18th, 2009

"Anyone feel that power surge?"

"Anyone feel that power surge?"

Like many of us around the UK this morning, I woke up to snow flakes fluttering past my window and a view that’s whiter than usual. There’s an air of optimism that arrives with snow which prompts reflection, and we are in that time of year already with only two weeks left of 2009.
This has been a tough year. Now there’s an understatement. It’s been a tough year for everyone I know, in every conceivable way. 2009 carries 11 energy, the energy of illumination, of dismantling. This is the year that shook our foundations with might, and we now look about us to survey the rubble. Some things were so out of kilter they were begging to be pulled down, just breath gently and it collapses before our very eyes. Other things have taken something a little stronger on the Richter scale, and we’ve all felt it’s vibrations. Organizations, jobs and relationships are the three big ones that have taken a hammering this year.
If you’ve surfed through it all, wondering what all the fuss is about, it’s probably because you’re one of those rare individuals that follows your heart; you were already in the right place, at the right time. The rest of us? Well, there’s a sliding scale of carnage, from a mere graze to outright destruction. The pain we experience is conversely proportional to how much of our truth we have been living over the past few months and years. If you’re in victim mode, know one thing, it ain’t over. However, if you’re asking the right questions of yourself, and taking responsibility for what you have created in your life, rest assured that help is on it’s way, and the cavalry will appear from the most unexpected places, and in the most magical of ways. The more in harmony we are with our own personal truth, the easier the ride.
In the meantime, let your hair down, relax, we’ve made it through another year in one piece… kinda. Know that 2010, energetically speaking, is one of divine organization; in layman’s terms we are receiving a divine helping hand to re-organize our lives in such a way that will bring us a greater feeling of joy and fulfillment. Do yourself a favour if you haven’t done so already, get consciously co-creating. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, google it, read about it, put it into practice; conscious co-creation… it’s time to take responsibility for our own happiness.

V

The Virgin of Green Lanes Finsbury Park

Saturday, December 12th, 2009

I was the archetypal reluctant Londoner up until fairly recently. I moved from the 22mph Yorkshire Dales to 122mph London around this time five years ago (feels like yesterday). After renting a shoebox in Islington for two years, my Converse were seeking better value per square feet, so I found myself moving to the Green Lanes area of Finsbury Park. Anyone who is familiar with Islington knows that there is little necessity to venture any further, it’s fairly self-sufficient. However, the danger is that one can spend their entire life in this compact chi-chi environment and lose all perspective of the broader context of London.
It is an extraordinary privilege to live by a park, especially in this metropolis. I’m positive that having doorstep access to green space has saved me from dropping the odd marble. In the course of five years I’ve taken time out to stroll through as many of London’s park’s as possible, and yet I still love Finsbury Park above all others. It’s trees are phenomenal, and in springtime the park explodes with cherry blossom the likes of which I’ve never seen anywhere else. There is a natural easy magic in Finsbury, it doesn’t need to try hard to be a great park.
Green Lanes (according to Wiki) is possibly the longest road in London, so I can’t speak for it’s entire stretch, however the area adjacent to the park is choca with authentic Greek and Turkish deli’s, cafés and eateries. The food options are seriously mind-boggling and it’s possible to eat like a siroche na dache as my mum would say; an orphan at a feast, for a fiver. It took me a while to really appreciate my local habitat, it’s a radical adjustment from the manicure of Islington High Street, but I wouldn’t trade it for all the chi in London. There is an authenticity to Green Lanes Finsbury Park, the love of which gravitates to the heart by some mystical force of osmosis, and sets up camp.
At the back end of this summer, I spotted one female artist strolling barefoot along the Ashram, canvas in one hand, fag in the other. It made me smile; this area has become a magnet for all types of artists and musicians, which I was oblivious to when I first arrived; from Stokie’s artist studios to Finsbury Park’s warehouses, Green Lanes is fast becoming the new frontier for London’s creative edge. There is a palpable feel-good buzz factor in the area, and it’s on the increase. Houses that were begging for TLC are receiving much-needed make-overs; the Ashram is certainly looking tidier than it was even a year ago.
Hoxton and Spitalfields have experienced their own brand of radical regeneration, however, there is a double-edge sword of pretension that creeps in like poison ivy; the ‘too cool for school’ syndrome kicks in which thus negates the original authenticity that makes an area so coveted in the first place. Green Lanes Finsbury Park is relaxed to horizontal; there are less obvious foot-holds for the developers, and with a pumping east-European artery, she is more likely to keep her virginity in tact. Either that, or we may have to invest in a chastity belt.

V

second attention

Tuesday, December 8th, 2009

…we all inhabit more than one level of reality at the same time.

First attention organizes the surface of life; second attention organizes the deeper levels. Intuition and wisdom both grow out of second attention and therefore cannot be compared to ordinary thinking… A gut feeling is as close to the oracle of Delphi as many people are going to get. That we can bypass reason to gain insight is certainly true. Intuition involves no cogitation or working through. Like lightening, it flashes across the mind, carrying with it a sense of rightness that defies explanation.

The big question is how we can learn to trust second attention… Once you start identifying with the knower – that part of yourself that is intuitive, wise, and perfectly at home in the quantum world – then God assumes a new shape. He turns from all-powerful to all-knowing… You will never trust your intuition until you identify with it. Self-esteem enters here. At the earlier stages of inner growth, a person is esteemed who belongs to the group and upholds its values. If the knower within tries to object, he is stifled. Intuition actually becomes an enemy, because it has a nasty habit of saying things you aren’t supposed to hear.

“You will know a lot about human motivation once you realize one thing: ninety-nine percent of humanity spends ninety-nine percent of their time trying to avoid painful truths.”

A person who has arrived at stage four long ago gave up group values. The enticements of war, competition, the stock market, fame, and wealth have faded. Being stranded in isolation is not a good fate, however, and so the knower within comes to the rescue. He provides a new source of self-esteem based upon things that cannot be known any other way… the emptiness of outward life is rendered irrelevant because a new voyage has commenced. The wise are not sitting around contemplating how wise they are; they are flying through space and time, guided on a soul journey that nothing can impede. The hunger to be alone… comes from sheer suspense. The person cannot wait to find out what comes next in the unfolding of the soul’s drama… Someone who still felt burdened with guilt and shame, however, would never embark on the voyage. You don’t have to be perfect to try to reach the angels, but you do have to be able to live with yourself and keep your own company for long stretches of time…

The disciple could also have no idea of the excitement felt by the master, because from the outside there is no sign… God leaves no traces in the material world… you find yourself fascinated with God, not because you need protection or comfort, but because you are a hunter after his quarry. The chase is all the more challenging when the prey leaves no tracks in the snow.
…fate becomes a pressing. The person has experienced enough instances when “an invisible hand” must be at work. The instances may be small, but there is no turning away from them.
After paying enough attention (always the key word) you begin to see that events form patterns; you see that they also hold lessons or messages or signs – the outer world somehow is trying to communicate – and then you see that these outer events are actually symbols for inner events… Wisdom consists of being comfortable with certainty and uncertainty… life is spontaneous, yet it has a plan; events come as a surprise, yet they have inexorable logic. Strangely, wisdom often arrives only after thinking is over. Instead of turning a situation over from every angle, one arrives at a point where simplicity dawns. In the presence of a wise person one can feel an interior calm, alive and breathing its own atmosphere, that needs no outside validation. The ups and downs of existence are all one. The New Testament calls this “the peace that passes understanding,” because it goes beyond thinking – no amount of mental churning will get you there.
…a state where all love is included in one love. Such an aim is hard to achieve, and most people don’t even see it’s value… Since infancy we have all gained security from having one mother, one father, our own friends, one spouse, a family of our own; this sense of attachment reflects a lifelong need for support… the whole support structure melts away – the person is left to get support internally, from the self. Self-acceptance becomes the way to God… It isn’t a cold, heartless detachment but a kind of expansion that no longer needs to distinguish between me and you, yours and mine, what I want and what you want. Such dualities make perfect sense to the ego, yet… the goal is to get beyond boundaries. If that involves giving up the old support systems, the person willingly pays the price. The soul journey is guided by an inner passion that demands its own fulfillment.

There are no victims.
Everything is well ordered; things happen as they should.
Random events are guided by a higher wisdom.
Chaos is an illusion; there is total order to all events.
Nothing happens without a reason.

Deepak Chopra, an exert from Stage Four, How To Know God

To quote The Pretenders classic, Spiritual High, ‘a state of independence shall be…’. This exert from Deepak Chopra’s How To Know God illustrates humanity’s greatest challenge, if we are to evolve to the next ordained state of being. We stand poised at the edge of this particular cliff, in a time of profound change, we are in fear of letting go of all that we have known. Apollinaire’s words seem especially poignant;

Come to the edge
We can’t. We are afraid.
Come to the edge.
We can’t. We will fall!

Come to the edge.

And they came.
And he pushed them.

And they flew.

Guillaume Apollinaire


At the entrance to the oracle chamber at Delphi is an inscription:

Know Thyself

We all have the ability to fly, and I don’t just mean you, or me, I mean all of us. The only requirement is that we simply choose to do so.

V

E=mc2

Tuesday, December 1st, 2009

There’s a great little book by Paul Arden, Whatever you Think, Think The Opposite.

So I applied that to Einstein’s theory of relativity: √mc = E

Conclusion: get to the root of the matter & release a load of energy.

E=mc2 by Vesna Milinkovic

Genius.

V

E=mc2

by Vesna Milinkovic © 2009

spiritual art

Friday, November 6th, 2009

Concerning The

Spiritual

In Art

Why spiritual art?
Why not just art?
You’re weird aren’t you… you’re one of those?

Back in early 2000 and something, I did a couple years of undergraduate study in philosophy with The Open University. I was really excited about it. I experienced an amazing first year exploring The Human Situation, and my second year was a focus on the field I love the most… art.
What could possibly go wrong?

Music Conducted In The Rain

Music Conducted In The Rain

I was really organised, mind-maps at the ready, prepping from word go for my end of year exam.
While almost having completed the course, I spent one evening reviewing my notes. In doing so, I became aware of feeling intensely frustrated; I realised that I didn’t believe in any of the information I was willingly committing to memory.

When it came to exploring the question What Is Art?, nothing I had been instructed to read came even close to tapping the truth. At the time, I couldn’t quite grasp what the truth might look like… but I knew it was out there, like space… another frontier, hopefully not so final. This particular realisation came as a bit of a blow at the time, which presented me with a dilemma. Do I memorise utterly useless information and outdated concepts for the sake of passing my second year, or do I quit now before I do any lasting damage to my synapses?
I decided that encouraging my ability to think for myself was more important, and so I defiantly boycotted the exam.

While I continued to read the odd bit of Bertrand Russell, my imagination was being gently captivated by the metaphysics section of the book store. One mind-bending book led to another, which would thus lead to another five, and so on, multiplying like rabbits on Viagra. Years later, my home resembles some strange landscape of totem stalagmites, made entirely of books, depositing in obscure places, and in alternate subject layers of art and spirituality.
A good friend and Demartini practitioner said to me ‘ten minutes in a persons home and I’ll tell them exactly what their life purpose is.’

Well. It took me a little longer than ten minutes. Try ten years.

I now realise that the frontier had come to me; a precipitated truth in the shape of book deposits. The concept of spirituality in art was now dripping upwards from my book totems and slowly crystallizing between my ears.

Synchronously, in the summer of 2006, Tate Modern exhibited The Path To Abstraction, an impressive collection of 80 Kandinsky works charting his journey through The Blue Rider group and Bauhaus periods. The Tate describes Wassily Kandinsky as;

‘a modernist master’ who ‘began to conceive of painting as an alternative pathway to spiritual reality… In abstraction, Kandinsky felt that he had discovered a spiritual reality which was more powerful for not being tied to the outside world – an alternative music for the senses.’

Swallows In My Dreams

Swallows In My Dreams

This was one art exhibition I felt compelled to visit. Even so, it was yet another two years before I read Kandinsky’s seminal work, Concerning The Spiritual In Art. The artist explores concepts of inner resonance or vibration of the soul as spiritual experience, facilitated by art, specifically the cause and effect of painting and colour on the soul.

It began to dawn on me that art and spirituality, within the current context of western culture, generally appear to be presented to us with an inference of mutual exclusivity. Mixing the two feels very much taboo. While there has been a renaissance in mind body spirit associated subjects in the past decade, there seems to be a black hole when it comes to serious exploration of the spiritual within art. This only serves to highlight, not only the significance of Kandinsky’s work, but the courage it must have taken to propose such theories, especially in a time devoid of the spiritual awakening we are now experiencing.

The spiritual in art is a part of every indigenous culture, indeed the indigenous Way is one of Spirit which guides every aspect of life, and is therefore inseparable from their higher forms of expression. This is not a new concept, this is an ancient practice that has been marginalised (as have the indigenous) in the race for egoic power. However, times are a changing, the feminine principle is making her presence felt, we are in the throws of rediscovering our spiritual roots once again. This is the early train to recovery, destination: Spirit.

Michelangelo is quoted as having said ‘the true work of art is but a shadow of the divine perfection.’ This implies a creativity that strives for such perfection. Our creations can only ever be a reflection of our true state. It is impossible to escape the reality of what we have created for ourselves thus far, and yet it is entirely possible, critical even, that we take responsibility for our creations. Only then can we truly expect to elevate ourselves from mere struggle for survival. It is in the striving, the creative process, that we reach for a better version of ourselves. It is time that we recognise, openly acknowledge, and celebrate the relationship between art and spirituality, contrary to what society would have us believe, as inseparable. Like Picasso once said, ‘God is really only another artist.’

V

Jonathan Livingston Seagull

Thursday, November 5th, 2009

Jonathan Livingston SeagullThe saying goes that when the student is ready, the teacher appears. My latest teacher is a bird that goes by the name of Jonathan Livingston Seagull.

‘…it is right for a gull to fly, that freedom is the very nature of his being, that whatever stands against that freedom must be set aside, be it ritual or superstition or limitation in any form.
“Set aside,” came a voice from the multitude, “even if it be the Law of the Flock?”
“The only true law is that which leads to freedom,” Jonathan said. “There is no other.”

…the most important thing in living was to reach out and touch perfection in that which they most loved to do, and that was to fly.’ Jonathan Livingston Seagull cover

Someone very clever said to me recently, we have to fly, don’t we?

Yes, I believe we do.

V

Jonathan Livingston Seagull is a book by Richard Bach. First published in 1970, the cover illustration has really stood the test of time, as have the interior images, photographed by Russell Munson… deceivingly simple in their beauty. This little book is a treasure.

In Formation, Jonathan Livingston Seagull


paintings on canvas

Wednesday, November 4th, 2009

The Musician,

The Butcher,

The Weaver,

and the Two Miserable Bastards

I have a story for you.

Solka was the town’s musician. Once a month, everyone would gather in the market place to celebrate life by dancing the night away, where Solka would provide the music. It was customary for the penultimate tune to be a Solka special, a brand new composition, which became increasingly experimental by the month and would generally receive mixed reviews;

‘Solka, that was terrible, you ruined my night, I think you should have your ears waxed!’ cried the Cobbler.

‘Yeh Solka, da woz well dodgy, yu gettin worz a’ dis, no bette, stik to old ones mayte,’ said the Tailor.

The Butcher raised her hands in the air, ‘hey, don’t be beatin’ up on the guy! Solka… don’t listen to them, they talk rubbish all night, I think you’re new song is great… I love it.’ The Butcher consults the Weaver, ‘it’s great stuff, right?’

PLAY ME!

PLAY ME!

They all turn to the Weaver, who shrugs, ‘I don’t know nothin’ bout music man, leave me alone.’

Solka would take a silent swig from his beer while grinning from ear to ear. This would vex the Tailor no end, ‘I don kno wat yu smile at yu bastar, but yu makin mi earz bleed!’, at which point the Tailor would take a sharp dig in the ribs from the Butcher.

And so it went, every month, every year, and every decade, until all the townsfolk had passed, including Solka the Musician.
Once the last of them had passed, they all gathered on the other side of the veil for a celebration of their lives lived. Solka joined the crowd, beer in hand, of course.

‘Solka!’ exclaimed the Butcher, ‘what you doing here with us, you should be up there playing your music?’

‘I thought I’d take a break and celebrate with you guys instead.’ Solka smiled sweetly.

The Cobbler and the Tailor looked at one another, and then at Solka, ‘no bein’ funni mayte bu’ probly bette chance of decen’ muzik from de angels right?’ said the Tailor.

‘Christ!’ exclaimed the Butcher, ‘you just can’t give the guy a break, can you, not even now?!’

Solka laughed, while re-directing their gaze to the angel musician who was right on time. The music started playing, and everyone jumped to their feet to dance. There was more love and laughter in the air that night than ever before, it was a great celebration.

‘Ang on a mini,’ exclaimed the Tailor, ’somthin’ wrong wid de muzic!’

The Butcher grabbed Solka’s arm, ‘oh my God Solka, the angels are playing your tunes!’

The Cobbler turned to Solka, ‘ok sunny, how much did you slip the angel?’

‘I always knu yu wer dodgy bastar Solka,’ said the Tailor.

‘You guys can just shut the hell up, because look, everyone is having an amazing time, including me… and the only miserable bastards here are you two!’ exclaimed the Butcher.

‘Well, I no care de angels pley yor staff Solka, iz still shit… wid capitol T!’ said the Tailor.

‘Are you ever gonna talk Solka, or are we faced with your grin for eternity?’ asked the Cobbler.

‘It’s not ‘my‘ shit guys, never was. I just listened carefully to what the angels were playing, and did my best to play it back to you, that’s all.’ said Solka. The Butcher gave Solka’s arm another squeeze.

The Cobbler turned to the Tailor, ‘it kinda grows on you…’

The Tailor turned to the Weaver and asked, ‘and yu, I supowz yu think iza fantaztik az well?’

The Weaver shrugs, ‘hey, like I said before, I don’t know nothin’ bout music man, leave me alone.’

From that day on, the Cobbler and the Butcher would always turn up to Solka’s gigs, and dance the night away.
The Weaver, well… he decided it was time to get educated, he’s now in music school, and loving it. He has a particular passion for bass guitar.
As for the Tailor, he eventually became one of Solka’s biggest fan’s, and now runs his fan club.

Δ

When I stand at the canvas, I never quite know what is about to take place. No matter how much planning, the work tends to do its own thing… if I’m lucky… if I’m listening… really carefully.

V




original art

Tuesday, November 3rd, 2009

Ever So Slightly Unconventional Ånarchic Tendencies…

Å

The Awakening

PUSH MY BUTTON, I DARE YOU

To suggest that artists are an-archê, or without-sovereignty would be misleading; artists are sovereign alright, self-sovereign. What true artist stands poised at the canvas and thinks to themselves, how can I be original today? I’ll tell you… none. The artist is The Unconventional Anarchist, recognising no other master but herself, who begins from her core and works her way out to the current misnomer of reality. The very fact that she stands at a canvas at all, is testament to an independent spirit. She doesn’t give a stuff how her work is, or will ever be perceived, it would be missing the entire point of the process. To quote sculptor Louise Nevelson, ‘the very nature of creation is not a performing glory on the outside, it’s a painful, difficult search within.’
Think about the essence of how we are; creativity is innate, primordial and necessary to the survival and prosperity of the human spirit. But why? What is it that we are searching for exactly? Scientists, sociologists, psychologists, spend endless amounts of time and resource excavating how and what we are, but who is digging on who we are? The metaphysicians, thats who. The artist is the private metaphysician and alchemist rolled in one, excavating the soul by means of blending matter that happens to be at our disposal. The gold we are working to manifest must reflect us, all of us, an infinite number of facets and dimensions of who we truly are. This is no job for the feint hearted, especially in today’s material world. Everywhere we go, we are told what to do, watch, buy, appreciate, get angry about, how to behave and think, even how, when and who to love. We’ve allowed this state of play to continue at the cost of our spiritual integrity.

So what does being original really mean in the context of art, and society’s value system de rigueur? How about an independent mind, body and spirit? So when the true artist stands at the canvas, she asks ‘who am I now’, knowing full well that the answer morphs as a consequence of asking the question itself.

And so given this criteria, I ask you, how could the art be anything but original?

V

a walk in the dark

Sunday, November 1st, 2009

A Walk In The Dark

Last night, in the spirit of Halloween, I walked into the darkness of How It Is, the Miroslaw Balka installation at Tate Modern. Moving up the ramp and into the blackness, slowly placing one foot in front of the other, I was hyper-aware of the symbolic significance of this experience. Balka writes;

How shall I move forward? you might ask yourself, as you stand at the threshold, confronted by the darkness ahead. The unknown can be terrifying, especially if it is also without light. How you approach it is unique, as your first encounter with anything can only ever be as an individual. Staring ahead into the black void may make you wonder whether to move ahead at all.

entrance to the void

How It Is was inspired by the Samuel Beckett novel by the same name, published in 1964. Beckett conjures the image of a ‘man lying panting in the mud and dark murmuring his ‘life’ as he hears it obscurely uttered by a voice inside him… The noise of his panting fills his ears and it is only when this abates that he can catch and murmur forth a fragment of what is being stated within… It is in the third part that occurs the so-called voice ‘quaqua’, its interiorisation and murmuring forth when the panting stops. That is to say the ‘I’ is from the outset in the third part and the first and second, though stated as heard in the present, already over.’

The title How It Is, is a translation of the original French, Comment C’est, a play on words meaning to begin. So what is the character actually beginning? Could it be a new way of being?

HOW IT ISA contemporary version of the man crawling through self-imposed mud to finally emerge liberated, is the Guy Ritchie movie Revolver. The main character, Jason Green, finds himself committing to a journey that requires a heavy dose of faith only to be faced with the ultimate challenge of confronting his worst enemy in his most feared environment (a lift), his worst enemy being his very own ego. The lift, a perfect metaphor for spiritual elevation, cuts out in between floors, and Green is forced to face himself in total darkness. This is his purgatory, in which Green battles with personal demons, to emerge without fear, purified, with inner-strength to sink battle-ships.

Beckett’s I that is already over would appear to be the process of dismantling the ego in order to begin again in a new way, free from the mind-induced sufferings that plague us, most commonly rooted in fear. The problem is that not many of us are prepared to consciously confront our fears, and so life has a way of organising itself to make sure that we do. If it were without purpose, then we may be justified in our sense of victimhood, however, that would be to miss the entire point of life, the great transformer.HOW IT IS Balka How else does one expand emotionally and spiritually, other than to live out our experiences?
The most crippling of all is the fear of fear itself, the fear of living.
How many of us have lived in dread of a certain something, only to discover peace on the other side? How much time and energy do we waste worrying ourselves into an early grave? And can you imagine the possibilities if we were to drop our fears, by facing them head on, until they fall away like ash? Who could we be then?
Ceremonial darkness is an ancient shamanic tool for stalking the self, still being practised all over the world today, as a way of learning to see in the dark with our spirit self, rather than our often misguided senses, so that we may navigate through life from a position of self-knowing, and therefore truth. Darkness, for the Ancient Egyptians, was the The Hidden Place known as Amenta, a land between the earth and the heavens, whereby purification of the Self would be thorough and ruthless. This is a symbolic journey of transformation where the Self dies to the earthly world and is reborn conscious of its spiritual reality, ascending from the darkness, a creative spirit freed from the bondage of illusion.
Be Your Own Light In The Dark

The darkness, or void conjures in us the fear of the unknown, and as Balka states, it makes us wonder whether to move ahead at all. Why bother moving forward, I’m absolutely dandy where I am, right?
We can choose to stand still, but for how long? Over how many lifetimes? And at what cost too ourselves? Consider the effect of a dam on the river’s flow, where’s the freedom in that?

So here we stand, at the mouth of the void, in a year where dismantling the status quo seems to be the order of the day, how shall we move forward?

Be your own light in the darkness. Know that life springs eternal from the great void, there are new opportunities for us that we can’t quite make out from our current vantage point. Our approach is all important, we can either stand rooted to the spot in abject fear of the unknown, or we can choose to put our best foot forward with courage, in the knowledge that whatever we encounter, we will emerge a stronger, wiser, more spiritually-adjusted individual that knows no fear. Now that’s liberation.

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