The WriteNetwork for Passionate Writers
Brush Strokes
I am a mountain
My words, my sounds are from my beloved
I am a painting
My beloved is my painter
Did you think these are my words?
They are sounds
Which come after the key turns the lock.
The great poet and mystic Rumi wrote those words in 1247. The story of Rumi’s life is an interesting one to say the least. It is filled with human drama as well as a mystical tone that fascinates anyone who studies his work. When I continue to read his vast collection of thoughts, time as I normally experience it disappears. I feel like his words were just written and he’s sitting next to me pointing out different thought and expressions.
My vision as a painter is to become the painting. Rumi became a painting immersed in awareness. If I can blend my thoughts of physical self with the consciousness of a mountain, which has different aspects of consciousness living above and below the surface of it, I’m moving a step closer to becoming a painting. I’m not just the exquisite trees with branches and leaves that reach for the sun, I am the roots that drink from the spring of cosmic energy that constantly move and change in expanded awareness.
As a mountain I experience the unity of consciousness in unique manifestations, each a whole fragment of a layer of consciousness. I’m home for plants, insects, animals and rocks, all expressing action in the physical shape of consciousness. My thoughts are connected to their energy and I live through their expansion and fulfillment. I become the painter and the painting on one canvas of my existence.
I accept my self as a work in progress. I am the key that turns the lock as I continue to flower and expand in the essence of consciousness. Everything and everyone I experience is connected to me, all present to add another color to my painting. I can accept or reject different colors and change the dimension of my painting. I paint the mountain; I paint the painting and I find a self dripping in brush strokes of sounds from the words of my painter. My painter continues to paint as I expand on another canvas and become not just one mountain but the Alps and the Andes of conscious awareness.
www.shortsleeves.net
http://halmanogue.blogspot.com/
My words, my sounds are from my beloved
I am a painting
My beloved is my painter
Did you think these are my words?
They are sounds
Which come after the key turns the lock.
The great poet and mystic Rumi wrote those words in 1247. The story of Rumi’s life is an interesting one to say the least. It is filled with human drama as well as a mystical tone that fascinates anyone who studies his work. When I continue to read his vast collection of thoughts, time as I normally experience it disappears. I feel like his words were just written and he’s sitting next to me pointing out different thought and expressions.
My vision as a painter is to become the painting. Rumi became a painting immersed in awareness. If I can blend my thoughts of physical self with the consciousness of a mountain, which has different aspects of consciousness living above and below the surface of it, I’m moving a step closer to becoming a painting. I’m not just the exquisite trees with branches and leaves that reach for the sun, I am the roots that drink from the spring of cosmic energy that constantly move and change in expanded awareness.
As a mountain I experience the unity of consciousness in unique manifestations, each a whole fragment of a layer of consciousness. I’m home for plants, insects, animals and rocks, all expressing action in the physical shape of consciousness. My thoughts are connected to their energy and I live through their expansion and fulfillment. I become the painter and the painting on one canvas of my existence.
I accept my self as a work in progress. I am the key that turns the lock as I continue to flower and expand in the essence of consciousness. Everything and everyone I experience is connected to me, all present to add another color to my painting. I can accept or reject different colors and change the dimension of my painting. I paint the mountain; I paint the painting and I find a self dripping in brush strokes of sounds from the words of my painter. My painter continues to paint as I expand on another canvas and become not just one mountain but the Alps and the Andes of conscious awareness.
www.shortsleeves.net
http://halmanogue.blogspot.com/
Comment
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Comment by PeeJay on July 16, 2009 at 7:18pm -
I'd go dancing with you anytime my friend!
xoxoxo,
PeeJay
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Comment by Hal Manogue on July 16, 2009 at 6:54pm -
Thanks PeeJay. I appreciate your thoughts and support. It seems we're dancing in cyberspace at the moment!
Love,
Hal
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Comment by PeeJay on July 16, 2009 at 6:52pm
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You are wonderful with words. I can only hope to be a tenth of what you put into writing! Bravo my friend. You are wonderful!
xoxoxo,
PeeJay
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