The Feeling

The feeling is a complicated one. It is negative, and yet it is positive. It is its own paradox. It is a black hole, pulling me in, and yet it is a source of energy.

I adore, I crave the feeling, but at the same time, I hate and want nothing to do with it.

It is brilliant and warm, yet can be so dark and cold. The moments of warmth grow a little more each day, the cold retreating.

I crave it a little more each day, pulling my self toward the daylight from the dark confines of myself. I get so close, but each time, the ground is pulled away from under my feet, and I slide back down the rocky slope.

It is a feeling I want to cling to, something that tells me with every passing moment that I’m not alone. I have someone waiting for me, just as I’m waiting for her, looking toward the horizon with each step I take. I will find her, someday, somewhere. I will find her again.

The feeling is love.

My latest, as yet untitled collection for my September ‘09 solo show!

This is my latest collection, for my second solo, that too in under a year!

The theme behind this series is an exploration of the human mind, in its parts – the brain and the consciousness that creates and retains memories – and its entirety – the mind as its own entity.

The show will be from the 19th – 25th September 2009! more details soon!

More of my artwork!

A Midnight Farewell

And thus I bid thee farewell, a good night, angel. Sleep well and dream of things wonderful. Rest assured that you are being watched over, and are protected. Good night and farewell love, and thank you.

Thank you my closest companions, my angels. You know who you are and I love each one of you.

The Room

I try to breathe,

but there is no air.

I reach out with my fingers,

but there is nothing to touch.

I scream, I shout,

but no sound escapes me.

And yet, I am happy.

I am in a place in my mind,

where there is nothing.

It is a room that is bare,

wherein my body ceases to be.

And yet, I am happy.

Only I exist,

alone with myself.

There is a chair for me to sit on,

but i continue standing.

I cannot take the seat,

until I have answered the questions for the day.

And yet I am happy.

Because here,

I am what I am.

Not what the world wants me to be,

not what I want to be for the world.

Thus, I am happy.

The Force

The Force is everywhere, it is within us, it is in everything around us. It is in the air we breathe, it is present between one and all.

This is, in essence, what Jedi Master Yoda once told Luke Skywalker.

The Force may be something spoken of in one of the biggest movie sagas in human cinema history, but it seen as a reality by many, including me.

We may be laughed at, but we care not. Everything is energy, this energy we call the Force. True, most of us cannot lift objects with our minds or by pointing a finger, yet we understand that there is an energy between us and the object, and that by forcing it move, it will not. We must ask it to move, have it will itself to induce the motion. But this can only be done when we let our minds remove the human conception of imposed will on anything else. The human condition prevents our mind from doing so, leaving the powers we see in the movies on the silver screen, and not in our hands.

The Force is strong with some, they can have a variety of powers that we can see. Some have stronger intuition, others have the power to speak in the right manner in the right situation. Some are far more agile than others, some have quicker, if not pre-meditated reflexes. Some people can simply be peaceful in times of stress, and make correct decisions.

The ways of the Force, just like the concept of God, are not fully understood, making them just as mysterious. Having faith, just like religion, is very important, though the walker of the path of the Force must have faith in himself alone. He must be conscious and confident of himself, and his ablities. Most importantly, he should be willing to learn.

The universe has an infinite amount of things to teach us, but we will, in all probability, be unable to learn a majority of it. Perhaps we could, though with our current understanding of the universe, it seems unlikely.

The ways of the Force tell us that we may interact with those who have passed, but under two conditions. One, the person who wishes to make contact should know and respect the steps in creating this interaction. Two, the spirits one chooses to call upon should themselves be willing to show their spectral presence. In our regular human parlance, we refer to people who can speak to spirits as Mystics and the like.

Meditation is a major part of the ways of the Force. It is a way to centre oneself, and also to learn. Learning will only be successful when one can unlearn what has been learned. This does not mean reversing the information chain one has received. It means applying what one has learned in a way that would deem it further unalterable, or open to amendment. A complete truth, one could call it. Meditation also helps the body heal. When the posture is correct, and breathing slowed, the increased blood flow and oxygen will allow the nerves and muscles to heal, communicate and gain vital energy. Meditation aids in concentration. When the self is at one with the Force, he or she can see the world without opening the eyes. Relying on the Force to guide one increases ones chances of making the right decision, and in dire cases, saving ones life.

The ways of the Jedi state that any person who wishes to walk the path of the Jedi must observe celibacy and cannot be married. The ways of the Force do not have these requirements. The Force is an energy, it calls for balance in the universe, and if that means propogation of the species, it will ensure it.

I write about the Force not to glorify it, or to show how big a Star Wars fan I am. I write about it because I feel that I should. The ways of the Force make some kind of sense to me, and while I have covered very little about it here, I shall continue to follow the path the Force paves for me.

The universe is energy, just as we are. The Force too is an energy, and thus we are a part of the Force.

To all those who read this, I know you will have an opinion, and will be glad to hear from you. I ask you only not to see our belief in the Force as a joke, just as we do not see your belief in the religion or thinking of choice as a joke. We, the followers of the ways of the Force, are real people, and have real beliefs. Respect breeds peace. Let us be one.

May the Force be with you.

On Warriors and Friends.

We are born into a family. We cannot choose this family, though this notion has been challenged, with arguments that are plausible. We soon grow to an age where we choose who to include in our lives as our friends. These people are the family we know we can choose. These are people we hold close to our hearts, who we trust, and depend on in times unclear.

We love these people. Sometimes, this love, which in my opinion is nothing more than an energy, converts itself into a different form. The bonds are changed, at times made stronger, at times weaker.

This love, when it weakens the bond, can do so irreparably, causing it to break. That is when we begin to doubt ourselves. This is also the case when a relationship is formed without that strong friendship, or for that matter, enough knowledge about each other. At times the excitement of discovery dies out sooner than expected, else the habits and personality of the person disrupts the flow of good energy inside the person being troubled by it.

In either (or any such) case, one may doubt oneself. That is when one should realise that they are not alone. There is always that one person who is with them, in their knowledge or not.

When under stress, pressure, disdain, disappointment, sadness or any negative emotion, one must realise that he or she always has a Warrior and a Friend as guide, protector and comfort by their side.

There are those rare souls, who are kind, gentle, loving and humanly incomplete with an acceptance of that missing factor. These rare souls, or Special Ones, unknown to them, have an Army of Warriors and Friends. This Army may be spread out across the planet, with some Warriors and Friends close at hand, and others in distant lands. No matter where a Warrior and Friend is on the planet, living or not, is always in the heart, in the mind and in one’s shadow, there to be whatever he or she must be to protect the Special One.

In times of poor clarity and challenge of principle, a Special One, just like every one of the Wandering Souls on the planet must realise that they have, at the very least, one Warrior and Friend by their side.

They must realise that they are not alone. They have chosen their Warriors and Friends themselves.

They are not alone.

A Coloured Escape

Reds and yellows, whites and gold,

Surrounding and enlivening me as I walk through the field.

A joy, a freedom unlike any other,

Except maybe when we feel unconditional love from another.

Warm sunlight keeping wme warm, a cool breeze cooling me off,

The energy inside me growing, till into the sky I blast off.

Flying Across The Universe

I’m flying across the universe, hands outstretched,

I’m seeing things in a new light, bright and heated.

The stars call out to me, the planets beckoning,

Galaxies presenting sights unreal, simply breathtaking.

There is life everywhere I land,

Cultures and races extending a welcome hand.

The universe is full of love and energy,

Making my flight a journey and experience in synergy.

“Coo”

” It was just sitting there, staring at me with that one orange eye. Just staring. Shuffling its feathers as if getting ready to take off.”

He was terrified even as he recounted the fateful events of that day.

The day had begun in pretty normal fashion.

Wake up, yawn, stretch, hunt for his glasses, stumble over to the loo. Brush teeth, do business while reading the business section, bathe, then get dressed.

Off to work, the usual morning rush hour with its honking traffic and cross-lane swearing.

Reach work, find a spot a mile away from the parking lot entrance and trudge to the main building.

That’s where the ‘normal’ ended.

He felt like he was being watched, and not by the security cameras.

Someone, or something, was eyeing him.

Whoever it was, he, she or it, was not in the building. They were on the outside.

He began staring out the window of his cabin. All he saw was a pigeon. A lone bird fluttering about.

It saw him, turned and sped at him. At the last second it pulled up, barely hitting the glass.

He was already under the desk, shaking and white.

He’d seen this pigeon before. It flew around his neighbourhood very often, but he didn’t pay it much attention.

What in Heaven’s name was this bird flying around his office building, twenty miles away from home?

He checked for the bird, then ran to the bathroom on the opposite side of the building. He found no one in there, which was odd, considering it was a unisex loo and was usually occupied by chattering and gossiping women.

He walked into a random cubicle and locked the door, sitting down and trying to understand what was happening.

Just when he’d calmed down to a normal enough heart-rate, he heard a fluttering and flapping.

A coo.

Slowly, shaking, he looked up, jumping out of his skin at what he saw.

It was the pigeon.

An evil looking, one-orange-eyed bird with a glass tube stuck to its leg.

It shuffled its feathers, as if to take off. It cooed a little; to him, menacingly.

Slowly, he reached for the door, bursting through it at the last moment, startling the bird, allowing him to ‘escape’. (What his co-workers saw was him running for the exit stairs on the twenty-first floor, raving like a lunatic and flailing his arms as though being tickled by a hundred feathers.)

His boss was notified, and he was sent for evaluation when they found him, two days later in the park, hiding under a bridge.

” It was just staring, Doc. I was so scared. I keep seeing it everywhere I look now!”

The doctor looked up, turning his head to get a better look at him.

He looked up. His eyes grew to bulging. He screamed.

The doctor blinked his one orange eye slowly.

“Coo”.