Undulating Waters

Arch No.21 - 2022

 

The undulating waters,
Endless in depth and breadth—
Here before us,
Before birth and death—
Sailing timelessly
Across infinite horizons—
Finding invisible solitude,
Strength and friendship
Amidst countless waves of Life.

MS22

Non-Local Movement No.9 - With Concept

Non-Local Movement No.9 - 2022

 

Non-Local Movement No.9

What can you do without energy?
Energy flow is health. Health is wholeness. Mental illness is a product of fragmentation, separation, isolation—the more concentrated, the worse. What is holistic mentality? Thought is always fragmented—it's inherent in its very nature—so a reality based on thought will always lead to confusion and suffering. This leaves a different field of the mind, a field different from thought (which will use orderly, practical thought, but is not driven blindly by thought). This is the subject of inspiration for this series of sculptures. Is there a "movement" or force from the intelligible realm (non-dualistic, "heart intelligence"), from an hypostasis, an underlying, unmanifested substance?

This piece, the 9th in the series, uses multidirectional motion, both in the material and its absence (absence being a dualistic and therefore unreal idea), to metaphorically and conceptually suggest the notion of a non-local field of motion or force, the recognition of which will complete the search for wholeness in the mind.

Fear and Love

Swept along the

Current of darkness

 

Blindly grasping

At illusory forms 

 

The distant laughter

Ensures one of light

 

Light yet to be seen

In this tunnel of fear.

 

That loving grace

Felt deeply within,

 

Is working without

In equal part

 

Where desire hasn't place

One silently retreats.

 

In quiet surrender

Arms fitfully flail

 

The laughter louder,

It's an inner sound.

 

The inaudible light

A dawning without start

 

Forgotten smiles pulled wide

With atrophied freshness

 

Gasping for air

Now pure and clear

 

Eyes open, heart too,

The rising sun does emerge

 

Changing threatening rivers

Into nurturing lakes

 

Replacing fear with love

And death with life.

 

MS22

Fragments

 

Fragments

 

Raking up the scattered fragments of neglected memories like soggy leaves left to freeze in the wet and cold coastal winter—

Melancholic events suspended by invisible strings dangling above a crib like a baby's mobile, hardly moving—

The numbness from incessant stories told and retold with slight variation over weeks, years and centuries; a reminder of our simple motives and carnal desires—

Dimly glowing through the deep fog, the torch of humanity, never ceasing to twist and dance in the endless evening of the past—

Towards the fire we look, like ancestral cave dwellers; without thought the mind is quiet, focused and awake. We thirst for simple peace amidst the threat of neighbours; no time for dread or waiting in vain, for now is the only now, the eternal now, the now of centuries before and of centuries to come. The love impregnates the dirty faces.

 

MS22

Fire

 

Fire,

Always there

Even when unlit;

The dim embers,

Weakened by neglect

Yet haunting in potential—

The fear of the distant future,

Incessantly nibbling at Peace,

Yet in itself, non-existent

Aside from its dreamy landscape

Of threatening horrors—

The home of the heart,

Our first and only Love,

Doth remain with all

In invisible strength

And timeless energy,

The light of presence

Amidst the dark,

The cold.

MS22

The Curving Plane

 

Swept away

By fantastic stories

Fuelled by real passions

And tormented psyches—

 

Off to the land of

Deluded realities

And false guidance—

 

But yonder,

Yet again,

The sun doth rise,

The fiery lighthouse

Dawns on the curving plane,

(The sphere of continuity),

The bountiful rock

Of uncountable yesterdays.

A full breath of lush air

Does impregnate the night

And release the day

Of its natural charms and perfumes,

Its atmospheric gift to Mother,

Its strings and fields of oneness.

 

MS22

Counting the Days

 

Counting the Days

The fierce wind

Like the wrath of the Anemoi

Tears through the place

In powerful surges

Disrupting the dirt and dust

And the stagnant memories

Of yesteryear—

The unknown forces

Acting within us,

Awakened by those without us,

Send us scurrying

Into our dark holes of hibernation

Where unbeknownst to us

We maintain and nourish

The agony and misery of humanity—

Yet, we may once again find that spark,

That candle light, dim yet vibrant

Which will guide us into the rays of sun,

Shining down on a land and ocean

Of boundless Life,

Illuminating a sky of vast potential

And ethereal inspiration

Moving the entire earth

To glow and dance,

To breathe and pulse

On the endless day

Of days we need not count.

MS22