Surfing with Wind

[O Donna]

Seems I find too much joy in ART

What seems like only moments ago (last post) – Infinite silence/ infinite harmony

I seek to send a message beyond this noise

Perfect Harmony is how pure spirit communicates.

The human ear only detects Imperfect harmony, which is to say, noise.

Within and beyond the disharmonic is perfect harmony (sound of silence)

Often what is conveyed by the words, “read between the lines”.

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=u9Dg-g7t2l4

(Back to regularly scheduled silence)




Side Note:

There is a certain kind of infinite joy found WITH imperfection:

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=prUYzLJ_4KM

[O Donna]

Everyone is 'enlightened'; difference, one of night and day.



The following is but an analogy as imperfect as it may be:

Lowest Enlightenment


Imagine being born (earliest memories) with Virtual Reality headset more powerful then what is known today. Imaging VR equipment that overrode every sense you had and substituted them with a simulation. Not only that but everyone or nearly everyone you ever meet also had similar equipment since earliest memories. That would be a damn convincing ‘reality’ if the capability existed.







Highest Enlightenment

Nearly complete removal of the above equipment. There are many analogies reported in literature that explain it better, a favorite: Allegory of the Cave

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=K2P4WO1_Hrg

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=B8HfzCR5BeI

A favorite version of song, the joy on their faces are contagious.


Glimpse of oneness here….

But I have seen the same
I know the shame in your defeat

A Familiar journey….

I know my call despite my faults
And despite my growing fears

As Bill Hicks said best

"Is this real, or is this just a ride?" And other people have remembered, and they come back to us, they say: "Hey, don't worry, don't be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride." ... and we kill those people.

(In the digital age there are far more ways to "kill those people" than ever before)

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=a5hFMy4pTrs

[O Donna]

Auto Mated





Which is which and who is who








Auto Mated
Auto: Ancient Greek αὐτο- (auto-, “self-”).
Mated: fitted together or interlocked; marriage, wedding





Kids are getting married earlier and earlier. Two common queried question on google: Should a 2-year-old and should a 5-year-old have a phone? Which suggest parents consider it.






Learning about technology and its ‘dark’ side while using technology to do it. Talk about playing with FIRE!

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=fPLWz5x60hk

She's living in a world and it's on fire
Filled with catastrophe, but she knows she can fly away

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=ethr2rCglTw

Heroin has nothing over the….FEELING of being fully alive!

Met irony and it is I
It’s no wonder there is this ‘crazy wisdom’ surrounding conscious life.




Automation is something else.

[O Donna]

Meta play
Featured on the Infinite Diversion Console (IDC)
So good, you will lose yourself. Guilty pleasure or your money back.



Play: New Game

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=Sk8QzckJvUI

Play a god (god mode/ hero) (white side)


Play meta play
Play Devil (standard mode/ villain)(black side)

Play meta play

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=-1F7vaNP9w0

Play a god (god mode/ hero) (white side)


Play meta play
Play Devil (standard mode/ villain)(black side)




Play meta play ……………







Warning: May invoke FEELINGS of lost and found.

[O Donna]

Easily worth pointing to (again):

Such a powerful story (read between the lines/ look harder) of who you are.

The Lion King | Remember Who You Are

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=hKQLKlHf2gI

Rafiki: Look down there.
Simba: [looks into a pond of water] That's not my father. That's just my reflection (thought, musing, image, persona).
Rafiki: No, look harder.
[he touches the water; as it ripples, Simba's reflection changes to that of Mufasa]
Rafiki: You see? He lives in you.
Mufasa: [from above] Simba.
Simba: Father?
[Simba sees his father's spirit in the sky]
Mufasa: Simba, you have forgotten me.
Simba: No. How could I?
Mufasa: You have forgotten who you are, and so forgotten me. Look inside yourself, Simba. You are more than what you have become. You must take your place in the Circle of Life. {Greatest Enlightenment}
Simba: How can I go back? I'm not who I used to be.
Mufasa: Remember who you are. You are my son, and the one true King. Remember who you are.

(my added words highlighted in blue)

Stay open. Who knows. Lightning could strike.

- Meet Joe Black (1998)

[O Donna]

Life hidden in every story even before the cover is opened and every paged is turned.
Truth, hidden in every lie but lie will never tell. It will look to tell but that tell will be a lie if truth told.
Mind will reveal its complexities but holds back the most critical without which it is nothing, nothing at all.
In a writer’s greatest failure is its greatest creation. Imperfection. Only the reader can perfect it. Not so much with an edit but with life itself.
Have you ever witnessed a reader discovering something in an author’s work they never intended as written? Words, it seems, take on a life of their own. (Life takes on words?)

Release these words, forget them forever, pick some as if they were dirty dishes to wash or ....... just do the dishes.

“If while washing dishes, we think only of the cup of tea that awaits us, thus hurrying to get the dishes out of the way as if they were a nuisance, then we are not “washing the dishes to wash the dishes.” What’s more, we are not alive during the time we are washing the dishes. In fact we are completely incapable of realizing the miracle of life while standing at the sink. If we can’t wash the dishes, the chances are we won’t be able to drink our tea either. While drinking the cup of tea, we will only be thinking of other things, barely aware of the cup in our hands. Thus we are sucked away into the future—and we are incapable of actually living one minute of life.”

― Thich Nhat Hanh, The Miracle of Mindfulness: An Introduction to the Practice of Meditation

[Wind]

Are you your role and story?







"We are oft to blame in this,
‘Tis too much proved – that with devotion’s visage
And pious action we do sugar o’er The devil himself."

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=aGbkIv7aKds

"And thus I clothe my naked villainy

With odd old ends stol'n out of holy writ;

And seem a saint, when most I play the devil."


Now where did I see this story before? Ah yes, I think I might remember now.

"In 2032, the world is in turmoil, with the United States fractured as a result of prolonged second civil war and a pandemic of the "St. Mary's Virus" that ravaged the UK and Europe 14 years earlier."

"The end result, the true genius of the plan, was the FEAR."

It doesn't apply to just one single event though.

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=YqRgwoe668M

[O Donna]

Alice at the looking glass





Alice stood at the looking glass and wondered...



“What will it be like to be (on) the other side?”






“On the other side, what will be?”





“What would it be like to be on the other side?” ………..

“The deeper I go into myself the more I realize that I am my own enemy.”
— Floriano Martins

Enemy, prideful even in defeat.
Crazy diamond

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=cWGE9Gi0bB0

Well, you wore out your welcome with random precision
Rode on the steel breeze
Come on, you raver, you seer of visions
Come on, you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine

[O Donna]

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=XeaO7D7jB1A

I told you
That we could fly
'Cause we all have wings
But some of us don't know why

Yet some of us know and still choose to walk, beauty all around. A hybrid of sorts, a high wire act. A walking on sunshine.

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=vGZhMIXH62M

Admittedly, after walking for some time, a level of amnesia can set in.
That is why we are here for each other, to remind that we ALL have wings.

[Wind]

Posted by Wind (here)
Are you your role and story?

To identify with the story (of separation) and role. Or how much? That is the question.

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=sP4Nc_HE2F8

Nothing wrong with identifying with your role as it seems that's how this game is intended to be for the most part. We pick and choose our garments or role and then "enjoy" the Earthly show with all of it's madness and drama. If we didn't forget what we are then there would be absolutely no point to this drama. Everyone loves a surprise because you don't know what's going to happen. Every adventure requires the joy of discovery and the possibility of getting lost. There are pleasures and thrills to be found and risks, danger... None of it is truly lasting though, because anything illusory can't be lasting. It only appears to be real just like light rays shine from the projector to the silver screen and we see a moving picture, a movie which can move us in many ways. Not only do we watch that, we become part of it.

It's all light, sound, mathematics, vibration.

A fundamental force which is Love binds it all together.

What is real can only last. Love is real. Consciousness is.

However, realizing what you truly are is quite important. Consciousness for lack of a better word, life eternal. The story of a person can be full of tragedy and suffering, to identify with that or not? Surely there is joy, beauty and love to be found too, but the thing about life is that there always has to be the opposite experience too. You can't have joy without pain, nor can you have ease without dis-ease. People want to say that they want to "be happy", but it's not something you can catch and keep to yourself. It comes and goes.

Our true nature is joy and happiness, but once that is realized there isn't really any person left to claim that they have found happiness. All there is just laughter, just like a child's laugh. "Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven."

The Kingdom of Heaven isn't here or there, it's within you. How often do we see it?

"Do you define yourself as a victim of the world or as the world?"

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=7blUYJm6i-c

"Mankind is engaged in an eternal quest for that “something else” he hopes will bring him happiness, complete and unending. For those individual souls who have sought and found God, the search is over: He is that Something Else." ~ Paramahansa Yogananda

And you're That! Did you forget?

[O Donna]

This comes from That
That comes from This



Mirror, Personification of The Grand Illusion

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=K_MzJ1hqCNY

And deep inside we're all the same.

*Ego concedes*

And still the wheel turns. Wheels within wheels.

“Liar, lawyer, mirror show me. What’s the difference?”
— Maynard James Keenan

Master-Student. Difference?

[O Donna]

Know thyself

Seeking an answer without deception returns only a partial answer (How fitting):
Do not know who/ what I am but I do know what I am not.
Alas the limitation of conscious-ness.
Can I fully know? Not in (so) many words.

Sure is a beautiful night.

“To point at the moon a finger is needed, but woe to those who take the finger for the moon...”
— D.T. Suzuki

There are plot twists and then there is THE twist.

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=QDGprGUreOc

Without a plot twist or three, life would be a monopoly....errr.....monotony.

Something has to break up the collective yawn.

[Wind]

Life is just like a rollercoaster ride.

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=nXpB1rixnPQ

[O Donna]

And how you suffered for your sanity

*Swirls* *Swirls* *Swirls* *Swirls* *Swirls* *Swirls* *Swirls* *Swirls* *Swirls*

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=G7Dt9ziemYA

Thought experience is somewhat as Vincent saw of the world.
Nothing comes out straight. Swirls within swirls. Every word, every letter turns.







Swirling thought begets swirling words received in turn.
Seeing the world so differently, a large curse (monochrome), turns a larger gift (celestial dance).
If not for unseen steading hand, there would be nothing worth painting.

[Wind]

People talk a lot and often it's just empty blabbering. The mind has thoughts or should I say thoughts have the mind and people go along with them, not even always knowing where those thoughts come from or thinking that those thoughts are theirs. "People don't have ideas, ideas have people." ~ Carl Jung

I like language and words, especially the English one even though it's not my first nor even second language. Yet it too fails short to convey things and meanings, but sometimes it gets the job done. People forget words, but not how you made them feel. Art like music or pictures can do that much better though. Van Gogh was good with art and words and I relate to his work and words, he was having the life of an artist with not much to his name. Certainly no glory or fame, until after his death. He used to write letters to his beloved brother Theo. Theo had always been sickly and prone to ailments, but after Vincent’s death, his health deteriorated extremely rapidly indeed and not long after Vincent he died too. I've copied some of my favorite parts from Vincent's letter(s) as I relate to what he says.

"Dear Theo,

Now I must trouble you with certain abstract matters, hoping that you will listen to them patiently. I am a man of passions, capable of and given to doing more or less outrageous things for which I sometimes feel a little sorry. Every so often I say or do something too hastily, when it would have been better to have shown a little more patience. Other people also act rashly at times, I think.

This being the case, what can be done about it? Should I consider myself a dangerous person, unfit for anything? I think not. Rather, every means should be tried to put these very passions to good effect.

To mention just one by way of an example, I have a more or less irresistible passion for books and the constant need to improve my mind, to study if you like, just as I have a need to eat bread. You will understand that. When I lived in other surroundings, surroundings full of pictures and works of art, I conceived a violent, almost fanatical passion for those surroundings, as you know. And I do not regret that, and even now, far from home, I often feel homesick for the land of pictures.

Well, today I am no longer in those surroundings, yet they say that what is known as the soul never dies but lives on for ever, continuing to seek for ever and again.

So instead of succumbing to my homesickness I told myself: your land, your fatherland, is all around. So instead of giving in to despair I chose active melancholy, in so far as I was capable of activity, in other words I chose the kind of melancholy that hopes, that strives and that seeks, in preference to the melancholy that despairs numbly and in distress.

What is true is that I have at times earned my own crust of bread, and at other times a friend has given it to me out of the goodness of his heart. I have lived whatever way I could, for better or for worse, taking things just as they came. It is true that I have forfeited the trust of various people, it is true that my financial affairs are in a sorry state, it is true that the future looks rather bleak, it is true that I might have done better, it is true that I have wasted time when it comes to earning a living, it is true that my studies are in a fairly lamentable and appalling state, and that my needs are greater, infinitely greater than my resources. But does that mean going downhill and doing nothing?

And I must continue to follow the path I take now. If I do nothing, if I study nothing, if I cease searching, then, woe is me, I am lost. That is how I look at it - keep going, keep going come what may.

But what is your final goal, you may ask. That goal will become clearer, will emerge slowly but surely, much as the rough draught turns into a sketch, and the sketch into a painting through the serious work done on it, through the elaboration of the original vague idea and through the consolidation of the first fleeting and passing thought.

You should know that it is the same with evangelists as it is with artists. There is an old academic school, often odious and tyrannical, the `abomination of desolation', in short, men who dress, as it were, in a suit of steel armour, a cuirass, of prejudice and convention. When they are in charge, it is they who hand out the jobs and try, with much red tape, to keep them for their proteges and to exclude the man with an open mind.

Their God is like the God of Shakespeare's drunken Falstaff, “the inside of a church.” Indeed, by a strange coincidence, some evangelical (???) gentlemen have the same view of matters spiritual as that drunkard (which might surprise them somewhat were they capable of human emotion). But there is little fear that their blindness will ever turn into insight.

Now, if you can forgive someone for immersing himself in pictures, perhaps you will also grant that the love of books is as sacred as that of Rembrandt, indeed, I believe that the two complement each other.

I very much admire the portrait of a man by Fabritius that we stood looking at for a long time in the gallery in Haarlem one day when we took another walk together. Admittedly, I am as fond of Dickens's `Richard Cartone' [Sydney Carton] in his Paris & Londres in 1793 [A Tale of Two Cities], and I could point to other particularly gripping characters in other books with a more or less striking resemblance. And I think that Kent, a character in Shakespeare's “King Lear,” is as noble and distinguished a man as that figure by Th. de Keyser, though Kent and King Lear are reputed to have lived much earlier.

Let me stop there, but my God, how beautiful Shakespeare is, who else is as mysterious as he is; his language and method are like a brush trembling with excitement and ecstasy. But one must learn to read, just as one must learn to see and learn to live.

So please don't think that I am renouncing anything, I am reasonably faithful in my unfaithfulness and though I have changed, I am the same, and what preys on my mind is simply this one question: what am I good for, could I not be of service or use in some way, how can I become more knowledgeable and study some subject or other in depth? That is what keeps preying on my mind, you see, and then one feels imprisoned by poverty, barred from taking part in this or that project and all sorts of necessities are out of one's reach. As a result one cannot rid oneself of melancholy, one feels emptiness where there might have been friendship and sublime and genuine affection, and one feels dreadful disappointment gnawing at one's spiritual energy, fate seems to stand in the way of affection or one feels a wave of disgust welling up inside. And then one says “How long, my God!”

Well, that's how it is, can you tell what goes on within by looking at what happens without? There may be a great fire in our soul, but no one ever comes to warm himself by it, all that passers-by can see is a little smoke coming out of the chimney, and they walk on.

All right, then, what is to be done, should one tend that inward fire, turn to oneself for strength, wait patiently - yet with how much impatience! - wait, I say, for the moment when someone who wants to comes and sits down beside one's fire and perhaps stays on? Let him who believes in God await the moment that will sooner or later arrive.

In the same way I think that everything that is really good and beautiful, the inner, moral, spiritual and sublime beauty in men and their works, comes from God, and everything that is bad and evil in the works of men and in men is not from God, and God does not approve of it.

But I cannot help thinking that the best way of knowing God is to love many things. Love this friend, this person, this thing, whatever you like, and you will be on the right road to understanding Him better, that is what I keep telling myself. But you must love with a sublime, genuine, profound sympathy, with devotion, with intelligence, and you must try all the time to understand Him more, better and yet more. That will lead to God, that will lead to an unshakeable faith.

Try to grasp the essence of what the great artists, the serious masters, say in their masterpieces, and you will again find God in them. One man has written or said it in a book, another in a painting. Just read the Bible and the Gospel, that will start you thinking, thinking about many things, thinking about everything, well then, think about many things, think about everything, that will lift your thoughts above the humdrum despite yourself. We know how to read, so let us read!

A caged bird in spring knows perfectly well that there is some way in which he should be able to serve. He is well aware that there is something to be done, but he is unable to do it. What is it? He cannot quite remember, but then he gets a vague inkling and he says to himself, “The others are building their nests and hatching their young and bringing them up,” and then he bangs his head against the bars of the cage. But the cage does not give way and the bird is maddened by pain. “What a idler,” says another bird passing by - what an idler. Yet the prisoner lives and does not die. There are no outward signs of what is going on inside him; he is doing well, he is quite cheerful in the sunshine.

But then the season of the great migration arrives, an attack of melancholy. He has everything he needs, say the children who tend him in his cage - but he looks out, at the heavy thundery sky, and in his heart of hearts he rebels against his fate. I am caged, I am caged and you say I need nothing, you idiots! I have everything I need, indeed! Oh! please give me the freedom to be a bird like other birds!

A kind of idler of a person resembles that kind of idler of a bird. And people are often unable to do anything, imprisoned as they are in I don't know what kind of terrible, terrible, oh such terrible cage.

I do know that there is a release, the belated release. A justly or unjustly ruined reputation, poverty, disastrous circumstances, misfortune, they all turn you into a prisoner. You cannot always tell what keeps you confined, what immures you, what seems to bury you, and yet you can feel those elusive bars, railings, walls. Is all this illusion, imagination? I don't think so. And then one asks: My God! will it be for long, will it be for ever, will it be for eternity?

Do you know what makes the prison disappear? Every deep, genuine affection. Being friends, being brothers, loving, that is what opens the prison, with supreme power, by some magic force. Without these one stays dead. But whenever affection is revived, there life revives. Moreover, the prison is sometimes called prejudice, misunderstanding, fatal ignorance of one thing or another, suspicion, false modesty.

If only we try to live sincerely, it will go well with us, even though we are certain to experience real sorrow, and great disappointments, and also will probably commit great faults and do wrong things, but it certainly is true, that it is better to be high-spirited, even though one makes more mistakes, than to be narrow-minded and all too prudent. It is good to love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love, is well done.

What am I in the eyes of most people? A nonentity, an eccentric, or an unpleasant person — somebody who has no position in society and will never have; in short, the lowest of the low. All right, then — even if that were absolutely true, then I should one day like to show by my work what such an eccentric, such a nobody, has in his heart. That is my ambition, based less on resentment than on love in spite of everything, based more on a feeling of serenity than on passion.

Though I am often in the depths of misery, there is still calmness, pure harmony and music inside me. I see paintings or drawings in the poorest cottages, in the dirtiest corners. And my mind is driven towards these things with an irresistible momentum… Poetry surrounds us everywhere, but putting it on paper is, alas, not so easy as looking at it. I dream my painting, and then I paint my dream.

That God of the clergymen, He is for me as dead as a doornail. But am I an atheist for all that? The clergymen consider me as such — be it so; but I love, and how could I feel love if I did not live, and if others did not live, and then, if we live, there is something mysterious in that. Now call that God, or human nature or whatever you like, but there is something which I cannot define systematically, though it is very much alive and very real, and see, that is God, or as good as God.

To believe in God for me is to feel that there is a God, not a dead one, or a stuffed one, but a living one… When I have a terrible need of — shall I say the word — religion. Then I go out and paint the stars."

~ Yours, Vincent

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=O6EfuhX_3Dw

[O Donna]

No one sees Gold but Gold sees everything

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=5tN_KrbByRM

[Bluegreen]

St Jayne

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=Gsk5btL3t64

[O Donna]

Parody (Caricature) of a seed



Two ways caricature is born, grotesque/ attractive.
Both distort the seed in which it becomes more or less a plant (? weed ? rose).
Look at the plant; do you still see the seed?

Everything shown was once a seed and indeed, at its core, still a seed.
Perhaps the seed is a caricature of something else.
Alas, that is beyond the seed’s pay grade.
The seed has a growing suspicion that becoming a plant is a lateral ‘promotion’.






Good Cop AND Bad Cop (Lateral Promotion)

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=oohHQm3WhS4

The less I seek my source for some definitive
Closer I am to fine
-Indigo Girls

[Bluegreen]

St Johnny (baseball) – St Joey (glue) – St Dee Dee (dope)



Glad to see you go go go goodbye

Source: https://youtube.com/watch?v=5a-Ml5zpQHI

[Johnnycomelately]

YEAH! ~8D ~8D ~8D

Nice Friday night tune. ... And I like Cuba, except for Fidel being Justin’s dad. ~8(