Euphrosene Labon

According to a law of internet marketing, this should be either an art blog or one to promote my books. It´s neither - and it´s both. My art, in all its forms, and my books, are extensions of my inner life. I suppose it doesn´t hurt to repeat this from time to time - as I do - as I have no intention of creating one just for one or t´other. This is an all-round package - art, educational books and Wise El’s Big Thoughts.

The last couple of days have been spent revisiting my business plan - or rather my art tasks which became a revised business plan. And what a lot there is to do.

I managed to mess up Poppy´s birthday card which she now won´t get in time (apart from an e-card version). Am currently gearing up mentally to re-draw the whole thing. And the draft for an Easter card has a manic-looking bunny (see corner).

Happiness is when I paint loosely, freely, almost in an abstract way, and people see what I see and BUY. Soon.

Meanwhile: Are all children really born innocent? If cellular memory is viable, or indeed reincarnation, then logically (in spiritual terms) the soul would not be a totally clean slate.

I currently subscribe to the spiritual idea of different circuits being switched on (or off). It would be horrendous to be reborn with appalling memories. It would immediately negatively impact a fresh life. That said, there would be undercurrents; attractions to people and places; affinities or repulsions. But it would also give credence to the idea that some children are born with less good natures.

Having worked as a housemother in three children´s homes, I know children can be very devious and manipulative. In one home, I had to lock the door as one child had taken to leaving lit candles under the bed.

From this distance, I wonder why the senior house parents didn´t just removed the matches and candles. Being behind a locked door would not be much fun if the blasted home had burned down!

But it was a short-stay home so she wasn´t around for long. Maybe not evil, but there were examples of even worse behaviour - and one cannot always blame the parents. Many of us have had a troubled upbringing without going out and killing another sentient.

If you really want to depress yourself, read this article.

Art is informed by the life we lead, by our thoughts, experiences and desires.
Euphrosene Labon Mind Body Spirit Artist Author Writer
For examples of my art please visit my gallery.

art blog, Wise El’s Big Thoughts, business plan, cellular memory, reincarnation

Ego and ‘ego’: fame, if not fortune, whether from blogging or higher up the sleb scale, could just be a cry to be heard, to feel there is some meaning to one´s life. Creating is one way, I suppose.

Parents create children to give their lives meaning; artists, authors, musicians - the obvious; businessmen, their
organisations. But what of the poor saps without any of these obvious blessings, skills or talents?

That stream of unfinished thought was from Monday. Yesterday, I went on a flower painting course, and discovered I could draw but not paint the blessed things in watercolour. With a bit of effort, and more learning, I probably would be able to but I couldn´t bear to look at yesterday´s efforts so they got ripped up - in the class.

It got me wondering why I saved my equally pathetic results from the portrait class (see corner) and, having seen M again, I dug them out. Because she still appeared to think I took hers, part of me really did wonder if I had.

Nope. No sign of them at all chez moi. The only oeuvres are my own. But I don´t think that´s going to stop her feeling I spirited them away.

Meanwhile, faithful readers will remember I have mentioned a few times how, even at a very early age, I had ideas which were dismissed as `scientifically impossible´. Some are now being accepted as plausible: consciousness in all sentients, even at microbe level; life on the Sun and so on. The latter is more open to possibility as scientists have found life underground that thrives in horrendously hot temperatures.

So where did my knowledge come from? At around 10, I was certainly not reading metaphysical tomes. Why did I always seem to have a profound belief in the interlinked consciousness of all life … but not as it is generally known?

Last week, I ordered some books by Swami Prabhupada from Amazon.

Reading Life Comes From Life, I could only nod in recognition, although Prabhupada quotes the Vedas which I have never read from cover to cover - and certainly had not even glanced at in my earlier life. So it´s back to wondering precisely where this information comes from, and why just some not all.

Euphrosene Labon Mind Body Spirit Artist Author Writer

Euphrosene´s Gallery of Contemporary Spiritual Art & Cartoons

consciousness, Prabhupada

Wed 8: It´s one of life´s curiosities that I was born on Groundhog Day. I seem to endure repeats on many levels - including why write a blog or indeed why anyone would read it. Well, to repeat myself (again!), I write it because it is a diary of my spiritual journey.

I suppose people read it for a wealth of different reasons. It´s not too dissimilar to a column and those journalists often get paid vast amounts for their maunderings. And did you know diaries sell well? Even those of long dead unknowns.

People empathise or are curious. Maybe there is even a kind of sharing in being alive - especially in the early hours when sleep eludes? Who knows.

The people who get mentioned have had an impact in some way. They can be people in positions of influence or power, those who have `close´ ties, or simply those with a fleeting presence. (See comment re cold callers!)

My mother had a huge influence on my life in many ways, some good, some less so: the fact I am single, and likely to remain so; my metaphysical beliefs; keeping my spiritual ideas hidden for fear of being thought mentally ill as well…

She knew I wrote about her and liked reading my writings even if she disagreed. Prior to moving to the nursing home, she often rang to ask me to send her more - although, in her final days, she was too tired to read them.

I have been taken to task about calling her Ma (my affectionate nickname for her - she was only Mum if I was cross with her) and for thinking aloud about her dying and how I felt. Yet this is supposed to be an honest account and it would be dishonest to hide the fact that my soul was getting weary. As weary as I feel now with criticism without self-awareness.

By all means criticise - once you have looked in the mirror first. Dad used to say that (before Michael Jackson!).

The anger I felt earlier today, at the slights and putdowns has dissipated somewhat, but even after all this time I cannot fathom why they keep coming. Do I really have to show anger to make my point?

You know another reason I write this is to be heard. Because I do not often mention it, it seems to be alright for me to be interrupted, even in the middle of a sentence. If, however, I try to reclaim it, I am told to hang on or wait a minute. Not the slightest hint of self-awareness that they too interrupted!

Can anyone blame me for wanting to be heard?

On second thoughts, I am still angry. I dislike unfairness, just as I dislike greed and inconsideration. I may be guilty of many things, but none of those, so if they crop up in Other People, they will get a mention.

Like, for example, I sent emails to all with plenty of advance notice about sorting out the estate property, should others wish to join me. I did not receive a similar courtesy, being told after the event.

And, having asked again, a couple of weeks ago, I was told today - with tomorrow being the date chosen. Considerate? Hardly. Small wonder I feel the way I do.

PS I was actually looking forward to today. How wrong I was.

PPS If I don´t answer the `phone, it´s because I am getting ENDLESS cold calls ("No, Ma´am, I am calling from the market research department about…´) and it is seriously annoying. They are invariably foreign. They hide their telephone numbers (against the law in this country). And they NEVER ask if it is convenient to call - which it rarely is.

So now I tell them get lost. Not in those words.

Euphrosene Labon Mind Body Spirit Artist Author Writer

Buy my contemporary spiritual fine art and motivational cartoon posters at Imagekind!

Groundhog Day, write a blog, spiritual journey, cold callers, mother, metaphysical beliefs, Michael Jackson