dreams, Earthly voids & Spiritual quest

Sundog

Hyper-sleeping in diamond dust.
Above the dreaming pool
fingertips snaps,
bursting river feelings as
sudden swollen demands.
Let them permeate the earth.
Mother’s core contains all heaviness,
all sorrows and more seasoned scenarios.

Even though his voice
went into a vacuum void,
he was not confused in the darkness. Eventually the light passes through
pinhole dreams.

Daughter Colma, universal child
silently waits on the high hill.
Persistant to find her lover again.
Rising in the gloaming, out of clay, her love, shaped by the beam of fire.
Until summer days fill with ash,
and devotion,
goes beyond the river’s edge.
Swimming towards
the innerconnected horizon.
Up the arc of his haloed skin.
Willfully dripping prisms.

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Ceramics + Writing, Earthly voids & Spiritual quest

Blue Tara’s Violet Flames

The burning beacon of our blue mother star.
Her secret mantra like smoke rises in our wounded hearts; to cleanse all contempt and fears away.
She pulls us out of the deep sea’s sorrow and brings us back to shore.
She is the brazen warrior of radical acceptance towards transformative joyous love.
Her blue- violet blaze, is our guide and protector, for our spiritual arrival home.

These are photos of the progess and the finished shrine. This art piece was a real joy to make, and I’m inspired to do a Tara series now. It keeps me connected to what I would want to be one day. For we all can be like Tara/Bodhisattvas if our hearts are open to first self-compassion and then compassion for others that seek the path of self-surrender. Being comfortable in falling apart, to be held, and mended back into something beautiful.

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Art Illustration + Poems, Earthly voids & Spiritual quest

Rain-Starred Tara (Green Tara Mantra | Om Tare Tuttare Ture Soha)

She opens that samsara door

Her rain-stars wash out the darkness
She holds those divine violet flames,
to transmute these tired candles
into the sacred reassurance….
We have the way, as Tara, for stars wear no veils…

My drawing of a bodhisattva is a work in progress of a ceramic shrine. She looks like Green Tara with the greenish cast, but in the final painting she will be in her role as Blue Tara. I’m portraying
her in the process of enlightement/transmutation of breaking the samara’s cycle. In this context the nautilus being symbolic of the cycle. Her spiral chambers expansion of rebirths released by the violet flame or dharma completed. The expansion of spiritual energy only remaining. The nautilus for me, also symbolic of Tara as “The Mother of all Buddhas” and “She brings us to the shore.” The oleander around her breast is, “the feminine face of god ” and the blue lotus, of course meaning enlightenment.

The drawing
I call it: The transmutation of Nara Ana into Blue Tara

More info about Green Tara/Taras and the mantra: https://www.yowangdu.com/tibetan-buddhism/green-tara-mantra.html

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Earthly voids & Spiritual quest, Mental Health

Nacara

A ghost gaffs in my pearly bones,
to plant a splitting cellular rumor,
You piece of junk.
Burnt out as a string of lights.

At the ledge of my heart,
I sought magnificence of green aventurine, glowing room.
Where a child walked through,
a forest to a beach of silver sands
and sunstone shells.

As that child, I sat gathering seashells.
Preparing to build a bridge to mother’s lunar craters; to be engulfed, in a child’s mind a solacing embrace.
But the dawn always broke with the numbing morning antagonizing,
Your too late.

Nowadays, I’m aware of her nature,
as cold and distant. Only a mirror, to the warmth I desired, in my blacken nights.

But I know the spuns of iridescents are still within. And I can burrow in the empty chambers of the furled spiral.
Even if I tip on my side and sink into the depths of a cave in the ocean; my love will never runout, dear.
For some, like me, must contract the fragmented consciousness, to revive back into the ever spinning expansion.

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Earthly voids & Spiritual quest, Mental Health

Derailed…Is there time to heal?

82 lives, she told me.
I was told to go to therapy.
I sought a mystic instead.
Centuries of soul shape shifting,
I want to get off of this roller coaster,
With the rails rackety wack ruckus.
The thrills are gone.
A mother to too many,
now I’m empty as a paper shell.
When I finish unwinding my body,
I forget about myself and
heal for them
heal for them
Not for me
For them
For them
Survival now, I rather take to the streets.
I have many atoms of animal instincts.
How many veils and unveils before I disappear?
All thoses homes splattered on the ground, scraping at my souls.
Karin is right,
we are hungry before we are born.
Human gossamer threads of thoughts,
access forgotten to the obtainable unknown.
Well, I can no longer wait.

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Earthly voids & Spiritual quest

Ancient Cradle

Let us suspend our time together.
Provided the sun rays
will still touch this cracked orb;
Of disillusion of tightly webbings,
flushed in ambivalence.
Bring me back into memories that soar above what satisfies in the night.
We are bits of surreal between fossilized markings of an antique sculptured land.
We bleed out, suffuse our ideals
in rhythmic red.
Your perfect sound
meets my silent presence.
Throbbing in the wind
under the archway,
rocking back the night.

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Earthly voids & Spiritual quest, Uncategorized

Mystic, I Love YOU

The swaying of the train
Mind outta of body
Slipping away
While my head rest upon the cold
Windowpane
Siddhartha in lap
Thunderous tracks
Hypnotic regression
Patched up in chrysalis haven
Collapsed Samsara
My innermost is to dwell with YOU
A tree of fire
A curve of collarbone
A precious gossamer float
Enraptured always by the brazen words of Oberst
In the wavy moonlit movable waters
A secret want
A holiness to fingertips
YOU reveal my deficiency
My entirety, awaits in another expansion

Poem/Naomi Print/Vija Celmins/Music/Conor Oberst

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