Sunday, September 28, 2008

Letting Go

This painting from 30 years ago had no real title until this morning.
The original questions centered around "is it a game, or is it more serious than a game?", "who came in through the window and threw down the switchblade into the still life?", "did they bring the window with them, or was the window already there?"

And the answer to those questions today is - "who cares". The new title is "Letting Go".

Overlooking the "misdeads" of another, perhaps a coworker, perhaps someone else, has unexpected reward. There is a bit of zen-like feeling in not judging the offending event and not discussing it with others so as to not stir up the negative energy. When negative energy is stirred, it doesn't just move the energy around like house dust, it magnifies and increases the energy in some quantum way (entirely unexplained). By leaving the energy go, it disipates more quickly and I return to "normal" (what is normal by the way) sooner rather than later. The event and the energy of the event try to trick the mind into believing that talking about it will make the energy go away, but it makes the energy live and expand instead. Letting go is the quickest path to "normal" and the more efficient approach to making suure that more events don't get spawned like a new hurricane out in the ocean just waiting to come to shore and create even more devestation. By just experiencing the event, not judging it as good or bad, and then moving on, I can let the universe as a whole act instead of me acting individually. The whole universe is much better at finding balance and equilibrium than me on my own. In fact, a single part cannot balance on its own. The reality is, we don't exist as a single part.

My image from 30 years ago took on new meaning this morning to me, regardless whether the energy was 30 years old or 3 days old.

Thursday, September 11, 2008


What's the first thing to happen when looking at this picture? You see the label and immediately know that the black and white image is of bananas. What would happen without the label? Maybe labels can be helpful to sort things out and understand, but many times labels just make the picture less clear. How often do we label and judge the fruit we interact with every day instead of just investigating?