Thursday 21: If one could live permanently in Self, we´d be physically dead. The trick is to bring some of the utter certainty and wholeness in those fleeting moments in to the constant consciousness. In rather a roundabout way, I would like to bring back that unshakeable artistic certainty I feel, especially when I see paintings by technically incredibly talented artists, and then make the major mistake of comparing.
Akiane Kramarik, for example, is astonishingly talented. Her realistic paintings are, she says, God talking to her, and I do not doubt it for a second. To have such skill with paints, in covering a large canvas and her use of light would be praiseworthy enough. But in someone so very young, it must be God-given. Can you hear a `yet´?
The `yet´ is that they do not actually move me spiritually. They seem like photographs, expertly copied. While I can but wish for similar talents, it is often abstract colours and the finest lines that tune me in to higher realms, whether my own or others.
A country is its people. England today is a bit of a mishmash with newcomers vying for cultural control. Mark you they´d need to wrest it from the Scots first! Whatever happened to when in Rome?
America on the other hand seems to have a very clear cut culture. On the one hand, friendly and seemingly spiritual; on the other, there remains an inherent racism that seems contrary from such a patchwork of people. Why else the constant references to Barack Obama´s colour?
Then there are the God-botherers and fundamental Christians who think nothing of invading other countries for the most unspiritual of reasons. And if they are not invading them and dragging along their poodles (like the UK), they interfere on a global scale. Most odd. Most paradoxical.
I was thinking that again, watching the House of Saddam last night. He might have been wicked by our standards, but what on earth are we by theirs?
PS The tune du jour was actually two. The morning one was about love, something about when you least expect it. But, as s*d´s law would have it, having monopolised my mind all morning, it is now in some remote mental filing cabinet, replaced by Nothing Ever Happens by Del Amitri. The Divine Inside is definitely having a laugh with that one.
Maybe the first one too?
