“the river is moving is moving and i am still i am still. the challenge of the seeker is not to be separate from that you seek. and sometimes as kdot said you have to stand still stand still and let what you seek catch up to you.”
stand still stand still. difficult. every single cell vibrates with the anticipation of movement movement. every single atom. every single frequency. every single. but to stand still. in it all. and wait. we are here. we are the past. we are the future. it is all the same. we stand in it. some of it fades away and some of it catches up. all while we stand. and tremble in not-knowing. and quiver with suspense.
there are small pieces, corners, smidges of david’s paintings that stand out for me. a slice of color or pattern, the morsel, like THE SHADOW OF DIVISION, catches my eye. no less than the painting in its entirety, just differently.
earth interrupted IV and the words he penned on the canvas: let what you seek catch up to you…stand still, stand still… earth, suspended in the midst of a color palette.
the people of this good earth – ever-seekers…surrounded by color…choices…in a moving river…vulnerable…standing still…rotating, rotating. are we mindful?
this good earth – this fragile fragmented globe…its colors…its rivers…its steadiness…its rotation…its vulnerability. are we mindful?
my sweet momma used to love to walk in the rain. matter of fact, she adored it. my poppo? not so much. but my momma would revel in it; she said it made her hair curly, which, for her, was a good thing.
we have gotten caught in the rain numerous times while out hiking. soft, gentle rain or even downpours. on the trail it just adds to the fun. the rain also makes MY hair curly, much to my chagrin. but d loves it that way….he must also love rag mops. (now, as an aside, i googled “rag mop” to make sure you would understand which kind of mop i was talking about and found this great old song. listen if you have time.)
there must be a time you were standing in the rain and everything slowed down, even the raindrops. it all became slow motion and life was about that very second, breathing in sweet-rain-dewy-air.
this morsel of a painting SLOW MOTION RAIN, soft and somewhat abstract, reminds me of those moments. slow motion rain is a little piece of EARTH INTERRUPTED IV.
reverse threading 