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A Blank Piece of Paper January 11, 2016

Posted by Yvonne in Dynamics of Resistance, Indirect Approach.
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She sat before a blank piece of paper. A creative writing project was to be turned in. Something was bothering her. It was blocking her. She tried to think of beautifully creative scenes, wonderful people and fantastic lives of story-book characters. The need and want to write something beautiful throbbed within her, but was overruled by the drudgery of her everyday life. It was told her, “Write of what you know.” She felt void like a deep empty cavern and wondered of what it was she knew.

Her mind set itself wandering about the bottom, at the deepest part of the canyon that she pictured as her soul. At first it stood stricken at the narrowness of the place. It crawled forward, fearful of what it might run into, but eager as it was always about something unknown. Her mind stumbled in the beginning. It gathered courage and gaped as it found that the narrow cavern her mind had once perceived expanded to enormous proportions as it walked.

As her mind rambled along through her soul, it observed many wonderful things. Some were new and others, so ancient they were nearly impossible to discern from the stone walls of the canyon.

As her mind wandered it began to feel at home as it adjusted to the shadow cast by some unseen projection, for the cliffs appeared to vanish. Presently, her mind felt itself so engrossed by the things it perceived that it quite forgot what it had come to do.

Numerous memories inhabited the canyon. Flashes of countless days spent lying on a patch of grass sat latent within a grove of lifeless trees that had lost the fruit of innocence. A pool of water held the cherished reflection of a life once dreamed of. Occasionally her mind came upon a bud plucked from the earth before it had the chance to blossom. These flowers were those of compassion and tenderness. The truth invaded her mind. She knew that she did not allow herself to be compassionate and at that moment she learned compassion. She felt relieved. Her mind rubbed it’s eyes as a small ray illuminated the now endless soul.

As it walked, her mind learned, and the rays grew. She knew, and she knew that she knew. She experienced great joy in the satisfaction she found. She realized that her soul was not merely a deep empty cavern, but discovered the realistic nature of it. She learned that her soul was indeed a meadow of ever unfolding beautiful scenes, wonderful memories, and fantastic storybook characters. She did not have to pretend; she wrote of what she knew – how all this came about, before a blank piece of paper.

Note: This I wrote in 8th grade English class with Mrs. Tarpinian. It seems particularly apropos these days.


Magic Fortune September 7, 2013

Posted by Yvonne in beginner blogger, Continuity of Source, Dynamics of Resistance, Indirect Approach, Word in Action.
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Recently I did a collage of Chinese fortunes I’d found when helping a friend clear his home before moving years ago … and just sent it to him.

And he asked me why I did it.

I think they might have been in a basket in the kitchen or something, and just struck me as a collection … so I saved them and had intended to get them to him some day. I mean, he saved them so, they must have been important …

Why don’t we just read a fortune and then toss it? Sometimes, we read them aloud to our dinner partners, end with “… in bed!”, compare, have a good laugh … and leave them at the Chinese restaurant or toss them along with the take-out boxes.

But if there’s something in it, we keep them. Hope? Wonder? Perhaps an avoidance of the potential dire consequences should we fail to honor their oriental magic, fueled by the mystery of how this particular message could have come to us at this particular time and place … the trick our brain does to make it seem the “perfect message for me right now” … and those are the ones we keep. The magic ones.

As I look around, I’ve got a few I can point to right off … among the collection of items forming the centerpiece on my dining room table: “You will soon be visited by an old friend”. Taped to my drawing table at an angle where only I can see them and only when I’m actually sitting in the chair: “Don’t underestimate yourself. Your social skills are needed by others at this time.” (that one came with startup #2 of 4) and “You will receive unexpected support over the next week. Accept graciously.” I’m sure there are others lurking in my many books, jewelry drawer, kitchen and glove box.

And he asked me why I did return them? Well, obviously, It was because of the magic.

To return the magic that had surely been important at a time and place. I’m not sure if it still holds, but I gotta say, putting together the collage and then selecting the images to fill in did seem like the weaving together of powerful threads he had surely gathered, however done – whether jokingly during dinner parties, a lone night with late take-out, or purposely brought home from social outings of one type or another.

So that’s why I did it.

And now I’m wondering what other fortunes I have stashed here and there which are quietly doing their work … put in motion by an inner impetus stimulated into resonance with the universe.

Lopsided Notion February 11, 2010

Posted by Yvonne in Drawings, Dynamics of Resistance.
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some notions are lop-sided, but beautiful none-the-less.

Lopsided Notion

Even a lack of evidence of some kind of notion of “perfection” is it’s own beauty.

I have a dear friend who has been a fine artist for more than 60 years. Spending time with him I realized that the term “self-expression” is redundant: there’s no self with out expression and there’s no expression without self.

It’s ALL art – every way you move, every thing you say, the way your foot goes out and touches the ground when you walk, the way one looks when they are just waiting in line … even the way you resist or ignore or make mis-takes in life – they are all still made. It’s all a creation, intentioned or not …

And I guess what I’m learning these days is about being willing to be the creator of a life, this life … looking at and seeing what’s happening, now I think : do i like that over here … or over there … or maybe not at all?

Choosing and consciously creating … and loving and welcoming it all, even the lop-sided ones. Then continuing to create … tuning, trying, practice and patience … till soon … who knows?

Go Bow September 30, 2009

Posted by Yvonne in Dynamics of Resistance.
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once she got her bow _ there was nothing could stop her!

Go Bow

Go Bow

This drawing started from the top: the figure started coming and I first noticed the hairbow. It wasn’t till it was done and I looked again that I saw the bow over her shoulder.

So this is about getting your equipment and having the strength to use it. Pulling a bow and holding it steady is actually quite a challenge. My uncle taught me in Golden Gate Park somewhere when I was a kid, maybe only 10 or 11 years old. Sometimes you keep the equipment over your shoulder, and sometimes it’s on your head and only looks like decoration – but adds something to your strength whether you or anyone knows it or not.

Color Complex – coming out as an artist September 27, 2009

Posted by Yvonne in Drawings, Dynamics of Resistance.
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when color showed up _ things began to get more complex.

Color Complex

Color Complex

So far, I’ve not been posting any of the backstory on these drawings so I’ve decided to start including such — maybe this is a bit of coming out of the closet as an artist.

Yesterday I spent the day with a bunch of artists visiting with Ruth Gendler at Kalliopeia Foundation’s lovely location in San Rafael.

This is the first time I ever went to an event as an artist. A bit shocking, I later realized.

[The Drawings started in Dec 2000, after I dropped in on a calligraphy class with Monica Dengo during a free weekend over at Fort Mason. More of that still unfolding story is here.]

So this piece showed up when we were in the last exercise of the workshop. We were exploring the themes of imagination and hands, and after awhile doodling along, I made the mistake of looking up from my work and noticed everyone else at the table was working in color.

For just a moment I had a “complex”. Then immediately looked back down, put pen to paper, and prayed urgently to have it be somehow magically dispelled. This drawing came to my rescue.

When I shared it with the group, there were sighs and chuckles of recognition from others, and Ruth said, “Sometimes it takes hours to make it that simple .. and you did so many!”

My dinner guest (a specialist in life cycle analysis and matrix math and an as-yet-in-the-closet painter) requested a copy too. So I framed it for him as he’s off to the airport this morning, and now I’m posting it in case there’s anyone else out there who is in danger of keeping a color complex.

Cleaning My Desk: 11 items or less! January 4, 2009

Posted by Yvonne in Dynamics of Resistance.
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Some years back, I cleaned my desk.

It was at the start of a new year.

After hours of diligent reviewing, judging, sorting, filing, resorting and tossing, I was amazed to find that there were just a few bits of paper — maybe 4 or 5 peices — with “important” notes with which I could not part, and which absolutely refused to be classified. They would not be reduced to Contacts, Inpirations, History, Ideas, Project files or whatever other divisions I’d chosen to hold that year’s upwelling of life.

Though I tried and tried, I could do nothing with them. Not even an “uncategorizable” was possible.


Everything Else, a Poem from Peru May 9, 2008

Posted by Yvonne in Continuity of Source, Dynamics of Resistance, Evolution of We, Indirect Approach.
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A poem written by a friend of mine last year during a two week spiritual retreat in Peru … now, for you.
Everything Else
By Brian McFadin
The way to live fully is to die fully in every moment.
Letting go, inhale the goddess that she may dance you drunk with music.
Everything else is just an illusion.
Carry forgiveness in your heart. Love, pray and let go.
All people are known for their magnificence and contribution.
Everything else is just romance.
Die to the siren songs of the mind to live new and free, giving nothing impeccably.
Stillness, the perfect gift.
Everything else is just resistance.
Listening is dying to give being.
Remaining dead, stay close to life whispering love songs in her ear.
Everything else is just hope.
Use your attachments as kindling to light a fire in the heart of mankind.
Take your trident and compass and trade them in for a pure and open heart.
Everything else is just intoxication.
Give thanks to god for the mystery and beauty of your brothers and sisters.
Bless, serve and open with him into the breast of the awesome and loving mother.
Everything else is just waiting in the dark.
Life has always already completely arrived,
and you can go only so far as you can bring everyone with you in your broken heart.
Everything else is just a nightmare.
You are an elder at home in the stars,
Prepared to die honorably as a warrior-sage.
I trust you.
Everything else is just blowing in the wind.