When the Why Dies

Unique yet universal, I believe we are all absolutely worthy of being emotionally and psychologically validated when we experience painful life events. Delving into uncharted present mindedness, the process of writing this unfolds. Life is very interesting to me because it is often so altered that my curiosity cannot contain all "why" questions and the infinite array of dichotomous rationalizations as answers. Wrapped up in the jagged illusions of this dimension we are called to process by sowing and reaping. And as an artist I find it relevant to not only speak from my experience, but to speak for the collective experience of the whole. That is the Contemporary art theme for a Biennale I was nominated to attend in Italy.

My experiences have loudly taught me about losses and gains and pleasures and pains. For me, the big "void" causative to our biological growl is the factor following the fall... perhaps no more, no less. Intuitive and emotional enhancement is my freedom and right "to lift up mine eyes and see the heavens in first hand awe." It was and sometimes continues to be through my failures, shames, regrets, and disenheartenments that a mode of soul shakes off the webbings of my void...likened to a calm catalyst creating the key insight of lifted eyes, ever responding to the wonders beheld...by faith alone, alone with the alone, yet in the midst, in the center, where perfect comfort exists seeking to express ever diligently. Once I quivered into the near frozen, yet socially comforting, waters of superstitious delusional doctrines. I was somewhat happy to fit into a notch of the social microorganism.

Yet this predisposed an inflexible variance with my other brother otherness. The letter of word held rabidly to the stench of an 'us and them' mentality that may be seen as always falling short, as an ever-falling Babylon, as a dividing station, as an invalid delusion to accepting being less than our best; thus implied was the absolute necessity of a social macro-organism, an end to such egocentric means. Ultimately, the letter, the touchstone, the faith factor, the pointing finger, the raft of deliverance, revealed to my heart: you can now be, and that is enough, already, open...Come forth; yet again and again, now after now, moment merged into moment, the here of now and the now of here! And as one inspiring seer wrote, ever-so-helpful-2-me, while embracing the pain of my only sons death, in my darkest time of overwhelm, "A broken heart is an open heart...and an open heart contains the whole universe." May we ever-so-gently open.

Gentle people, writers in and for our global village, spawned of our great planet, now ever-newly made manifest, the toxic media portrays dismal orchestrations, in a mode of thrusts and lusts and apocalyptic probabilities...self against self, nation against nation. What a grand scheme illusion, yet very real and all so tangible. We are all members of equal stature when the "why" dies and resonant answers to the how and what manifest perfect paths to where we have always been: from the image of the image as.

I myself have been labeled terminally ill and have the prognosis of minus ten years. I still am and will continue to be after the shell of this embodiment turns once again back to the dust...reemerging, in the name of the need for expansion in paradoxical micro macro play through the one original breath...the One becomes the many, the many the one.

Gentle people, the most common elementary component of what I call self, in my perspective and experience of what that true self represents, is the innate predisposition to escape our loneliness by seeking connectivity to appreciable otherness. The potential inertia post-follow of the fall is the fallacy of lack within a universe that wishes on high to respond to our every virtue via the path of least resistance. The veil has been rent, the seals broken. The pre-manifest is in natural jest to express our highest esteem by reflecting that image unto us through otherness.

But how after the follow of the fall? "Why" will never do. Its implications are endless because our minds are ever so uniquely wired to attempt to make sense out of the world-even the sense of nonsence. Of which, I myself, am adept. Yet I know this. Is not any sense better than nonsense? Ah, a question of why! What is nonsense? Is it not an act of not being able to see around the contagions of eye specks and boulders of which we have contained and grasped in our comfort zones? What is one to do to stretch these zones and embrace our highest collective envisioning and interest? There is no known why in direct concert with the interactions of our innate seeded creativity largely lying low in limbo. Was it not near forgotten save beauty, inspiration and healing? These are our rightly endowed gifts to utilize in awakening all that is was and shall ever be. I cannot not not be, therefore I am. To be or not to be is the "why" problem.

Voices within this resonance ring true in us each, through our own constructs, through our own special touchstones. That sacredness comes through the process of seeing the sacred in all externals. What an order, yet the flashpoint of our survival must have this gateway process on high for all eyes to see. There is no need of why. Why is the wind of the written letter ever-falling short of the perfect language in the eternal center from which we are all made manifest.

Herein lies in the most sacred center of I am-ness: Purpose and meaning in the universe express through life: the rose the thorn, the smile the tear, the crest the trough, the ebb the flow, the left and the right. I see the paradoxical rhythms that gives birth to the curious mysterious life embodiments here, on our fragile planet, ever-beckoning us "to love, learn, and remember."

The follow of the fall is at hand, as well, deliverance into the new orchestration. I re-realize my heartstrings still sing songs through me and to me, by slipping through time in this way for you. My perfect reflection is all that you are, all that you do, and all that you touch. All things are ever-already added. Can anything really be given or taken away? I think No. Only illusion has the ploys of giving and taking away-the roots of stigma and want, of wishing and waiting, of loving and hating, of healing and killing, of vanity and realizations...likened to a the concept of absolute ignorance being divine wisdom. Do we not need to forget in order to remember? What is said to foster remembrance? How was it said to manifest? I can see no "why" within carnal limitation. It just is.

The river begins to flow once again, more fully, evermore invoked...coming as the collective calm, calling coming forth...now in unprecedented mass. There is no lack, no nothing but our predisposition to escape loneliness. The Tangents of the mind caressed by a perfect circle innately know the all-embracing, the God force source singing to and through all creation. There is no why. Why is the backbone of illusion, the root of delusion, and the rationale of mass murder. All that we experience, whether consciously manifested or unconsciously manifested is in direct accordance with our consciousness. I am a believer in what I accept as the law: "As above, so below...on earth as it is in Heaven." When this is implemented the beckoning light delivers many to the sacred center, back into the garden, where we have truly always been, where we could not not be...we had only forgotten.

Clinging to or rejecting causations creates repeated reaping episodes until dissipated embraced and reframed as resolved. Then freedom from incident reoccurrence via many guises and masks breaks the final seal of this grand illusion, this drama, as we know it. Release, is not likened to the "original journey to the greener side of the river while fruitlessly clinging to the raft, or worshiping the point finger and missing where it is pointing. To not resist change, to not constrict comfort zones, and to not not allow the sharing of our common self through this "looking glass self" enigma is a wonderful journey.

I probably come across as kind of raw and fragmented, but I wanted to participate. I want to thank you each for sharing in such real key unadulterated ways...the coin flips for us all, so creative and inspiring, and, also, I like the synaptic shock waves as they go tickling my finger tips when I read; and if not for writing, then for art or through most any fruitious medium.

What can I do to help comfort our global village? The pen over the sword...the voice over the pen.