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June 30, 2006
Spirit Orb
I suppose if I were of strong conviction in a religious sense, and Catholic as well, I might see this as the face of Mary in an orb. I know that she shows herself to many believers around the world, and in the most unusual places.
I am glad that I wasn’t photographing a taco, or some grungy wall in the city bus station. Of course, I love tacos and many of the goodies that fill them, as long as they are vegetarian in nature. They really have nothing in common with a dirty wall in the bus station, but both are related in their oddness for the Virgin’s face to appear in.
At first, I never thought of who’s face so much as, “Wow, that looks like a face in this orb!” It definitely appears to be that of a woman, and she does seem to be a bit similar in her mood to that of the mournful face that many artists have given her.
When I first noticed this, I decided to keep the photo and just put it aside for a few days. I felt excited as if a miracle just documented itself in front of me, and yet, something quieted me.
Miracles do happen every day, and probably at every moment. Seeing them is another issue, and sometimes I feel completely dense to what is going on around me.
I am already excited that the orbs appear in my home... and now this with a clear face. I know that many believe dust or bugs cause these orbs, with some sort of weird light reflection. Perhaps there is something to this, but in truth, I have experimented with time of day and flash or no flash, and without failure, I can stand and take the pictures back to back, in the same position and get totally different results. And yes, my house has it’s share of dust... more than enough to make any skeptic happy.
If dust were the reason, then why, in the same conditions, same place and time do they sometimes appear, and sometimes, not at all? Certainly dust continues to flow.
I think to myself, if this was the Holy Virgin Mary actually trying to make contact with me, which seems more than a little unlikely, how would she appreciate being reduced to dust?
I know that these orbs are more than that. Sometimes a camera can see what we cannot see. What they are... perhaps energy is the word some people would be most comfortable with. I think I would step out further and say, probably spirit energy.
I do appreciate the woman showing herself in this way, whoever she may be. I am honored and hope to be able to stay open to this communication.
Posted by kay at 04:54 PM | Comments (0)
June 25, 2006
Keep Dreaming
There are times when we become more aware of how our dreams can bring us very profound information. We may get a feeling of dejavoux, or perhaps, be in the middle of some task in our day, when a piece of some dream we had the night before pops into our head. We take a moment and wonder, ‘what does that mean?’ , and often laugh at how odd the circumstances were.
For quite a while I have not really remembered much about what I dream...so I think. Occasionally I have very small sections of something much more detailed, come into my memory. I would try to focus on this unusal piece, and still, wake up forgetting even this. Before this seeming blockage started happening, I would write my dreams down when I awoke in the night, or at the very least, put down key words that might bring back the dream upon awakening.
Lately, at the suggestion of a friend, I have concentrated on asking for more clarity, before I fall asleep. I try to be specific, feeling slightly silly and absolutely amazed in the same moment. It seems to be working, but as always, dreams have their own language and I must become more practiced at understanding what is being shown to me.
As far as not remembering, I think we always process in our sub conscience mind, but we aren’t always aware of what took place in our conscience existence. Our brains seem to be so large and mysterious in their capacity, that processing can easily be accomplished in one part, while the another part is on vacation.
It has been said that the dream world is the reality and that our everyday lives are the dream. I like to think of the dreams as guidance.... perhaps even divine in nature. After all, aren’t we all part of the divine plan, with God in every particle of existence?
The Native Americans knew well the importance of dreams. They understood that the dream language is the universal language of truth, and that this is a sacred gift. Knowing this can only allow one to see beyond what we think our capacity of seeing is.
Dreams seem to hold a precious key to vision. With vision there is no need for greed or violence... only love.
One of my friends (who is probably one of the best dreamers in the universe) printed and distributed to her friends this phrase after it was given to her in a dream:
“The Love of All Moments!”
A message, clearly coming from a higher source that is for all of us to see. I hope to keep dreaming.
Posted by kay at 04:47 PM | Comments (0)
June 18, 2006
Exposure
Sometimes we sabotage ourselves, throwing something into our own path, sort of speak. It is usually a fear of what the outcome might be, if we allow the flow to happen.
In my case, I am aware that some of my fears surface at the oddest times. Right when I am looking to reach a higher goal or a more active intent in my pursuits.
I forget these ‘fears’, or tend to think they no longer bother me, and then something comes along that I start to procrastinate about. I come up with excuses and reasons why I need to do this or that other thing now, looking any other direction, but straight into the face of what calls to me.
It is often subtle, and hides behind a mask created to give it another illusion.
Looking into my own reflection, I see that I am afraid of rejection; of others judging me to not be good enough. I have managed to trick myself into thinking that I may not be up to the task, when this is not really the issue. I am as good as who I am.... simply put. What others see is their personal ability, not my inability to be who I am or what I do.
I can rationalize this, but I can quickly find myself trying to stay afloat in the ‘approval of others’ pool. When I fall into this pattern, I set myself up for failure.
As an artist, I put my work out in front of others, and often, in front of those who are given the titles to officially judge what we artists do. This is a great part of my reason for having issue with the rationalization of self judgment.
If you wish to have your art out there, you must be put into this realm of judging, in some way or another. It could be a museum curator, a gallery owner, a judge in a juried competition, an art critic, an art consultant, art patrons, your friends and fellow artists, a well meaning relative, or the guy who mows your lawn. The point is, the very nature of being an artist is about being scrutinized, and sometimes in the most uncomfortable ways.
Some people will say it is a fear of success. Maybe there is some of this element inside of the space of rejection. Perhaps it comes down to not feeling lovable?
Well, one can hardly expect a complete stranger who looks at your art, as a candidate for judging how lovable you are, but I suppose I can see how some people harshly judge themselves in this way. That is too painful to imagine.
I think, no matter who we are, or what we do, we are there in front of others, and always vulnerable to their judgment. It makes no difference that I am an artist, when I see it in this way.
I know I must focus on the best part of who I am, and what I do.... my art. How anyone sees it or feels it will never be in my control, and that is naturally a good thing. I am learning to be comfortable with this, but not without some waves.
One thing that comes to the surface, is how I see others. I am also capable of judging, and I know that when I cast this aside, I feel a weight has been lifted.
I will continue to put my art out there for others to see, and hopefully... enjoy. That is worth all the possible discomforts.
Posted by kay at 09:42 AM | Comments (0)
June 09, 2006
Perspective & Inspiration
Breathing with a deeper sense of calm, I am aware that even a small break from our every day life is of the greatest value. A step away... a new perspective.
As an artist, I know well the advantage of looking at something from another angle.... or at least, I should. It is easy, however, to get caught up in some kind of frantic pace and begin to loose the ability of vision.
I was able to take a ‘mini’ vacation recently, which consisted of six very full days with a close friend, and yes, my mother-in-law, who just happens to be an Anthropologist, which is one among her many other amazing talents.
This trip was her idea, and when she invited me to join her, I was more than willing. As she did all of the driving, I was able to allow myself the shear pleasure of escaping any deadlines or time issues. We just played most of the trip as it came to us, even though there was an initial plan to see these ancient Missions, which we did take in with great enthusiasm and pleasure.
As we both stepped back in our own individual ways to view these beautiful places, we tried to grasp what life was like for these people who lived here so long ago. Her knowledge well surpasses mine on this issue, obviously, so it made for a very interesting educational experience. More than this, I began to sense something that is perhaps far deeper than any knowledge of history could bring, and I feel certain that she sensed this too.
It was a stepping out of my timeline, for a bit. A small piece of someone else’s residual life experience that somehow transferred itself into our realm. Perhaps a spirit in visitation who left their Earthly Life during an epidemic that killed so many nearly 250 years ago. Those would likely be the Indians who lived and worked to make these Missions what they were, and what they have become.
All one has to do is just sit and breathe, taking in the essence of the area. Slow down and pause to hear something, or smell something that might help you travel on the vale between two worlds, even if it is to just get a slight glimpse. You cannot help but come away a bit changed. The perspective has shifted.
I found myself fixed on those people who were buried in some areas now considered sacred merely by their Native American heritage. What is this familiarity I have found? Why are they calling to me, and why am I so comforted by this?
As I continue to explore this part of my being that is so drawn to these people, my art will not escape the influence. Seemingly having a life of it’s own, I let it come through me with pleasure.
I love what I do.
Posted by kay at 10:52 PM | Comments (0)