I believe that authenticity matters; hiding who we are stifles growth opportunities for the individual and collective. So in this blog I write about all things that genuinely fascinate me: art, spirituality, the puzzles of personhood--and their ongoing interplay. For some, learning the artist's thoughts contaminates the experience of the art, and I respect that. It might be best to avoid this blog and visit only my gallery pages. Personally I can't get enough of the stories, ideas, and people behind art, so this blog is most appropriate for an audience similarly curious and open-minded, and who won't take offense at challenging perspectives and taboo topics. It's especially for those who are aware they're undergoing a spiritual awakening and seek to feel less alone in that process. I wouldn't be at this better place in my life if it weren't for the wayshowers I found online who helped me understand what was happening to me and to the world, and I hope to pay it forward by doing the same for others on the awakening path.
you weren't born with them fully formed, you know, no dorsal petals damp and molded to fetal folds you were in, but they are with you within: waiting, pale and aching to sail like sprouts seeking sun which, by the way,
They said, avoid They said don't fly too close take the middle path, my dear it's safe it's clear so you did so you sat so bored before the blackboard as They harnessed you in feathered wax yet as rays slid between blinds you could read between lines: every time a (school) bell rings, an angel gets their wings (clipped) and still your own true two bore upward drilling through layers of fascia and fascism, scapula and scorn you've learned to live torn from the inside do you know why Icarus fell, wracked with sorrow? can't you see, child, his wings were borrowed from bee and bird? haven't you heard a feather's only fetter when false? those swelling bruises on your back someday will crack as regiments of fine filament in one hustling rush thrash through flesh and flash into iridescent crescents humming, warming in the sun Come closer sings that sphere of siren fire as you rise to the skies there is nothing to fear in joy of flight or threat of sear for child, know this: the cosmos can only kneel to the true, to the real - Jennifer Thangavelu Comments are closed.
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