Blueprint for Enlightenment II

Blueprint for Enlightenment II

ingredients: vintage book cover, vintage ephemera, woodblock prints, image transfer, Derwent Inktense watercolor pencil, vintage game pieces, metallic gel pen

I had lots of fun with this piece, just allowing myself to play with materials without giving much thought to what it all means.  I called it Blueprint for Enlightment II, mainly because the bright blue pencil I used reminds me of the color in a cyanotype/blueprint, and because the drawing is of the Tibetan Buddhist bodhisattva Avalokitesvara. He is often depicted woth 1000 arms and 11 heads, but I left off most of the arms as well as some of the heads in my version.


"According to Mahāyāna (Buddhist) doctrine, Avalokiteśvara is the bodhisattva (enlightened being) who has made a great vow to assist sentient beings in times of difficulty, and to postpone his own Buddhahood until he has assisted every sentient being in achieving Nirvana.... [The Chinese version of] this bodhisattva is variably depicted as male or female, and may also be referred to simply as Guanyin."  (Wikipedia)

"It is said that the personification of perfect Compassion, Avalokiteshvara (Guanyin) Bodhisattva (a great being who aspires to help all sentient beings be free of suffering before entering the bliss of Buddhahood), in the beginning of His/Her Bodhisattva career of helping sentient beings, vowed that "Should He ever become disheartened in saving sentient beings, may His body shatter into a thousand pieces." This might seem extreme, but it was symbolic of His overwhelming great Compassion and determination.

One day, while helping beings in a higher realm, He looked down into the hells which He had emptied through the teaching of the Dharma, and realised, to His dismay, that countless beings were still flooding into them. In a moment of exasperation, He became so disheartened that true to His vow, His body shattered in great agitation and despair. Despite this, He did not just give up — His consciousness beseeched the Buddhas for help. Of the Buddhas who came to aid Him, one was Amitabha Buddha, who became His Guru (personal teacher) Buddha. With the Buddha's miraculous powers, He attained a new form — one with a thousand helping hands of Compassion coupled with the eyes of Wisdom in each palm. With this, He renewed His vow to saving not just limited sentient beings, but all sentient beings."  (Buddhist Studies)

Searching for RoyGBiv: GREEN

I'm not feeling very wordy today, but let me just say that "GREEN" came around at the perfect time. 

After an extended period of WHITE...

and GRAY,

 GREEN is popping out all over at long last!

 The beautiful bright baby green of new leaves budding out...

 the soft bluish-green of lambs' ears peeking through the ground...

 the new shoots on a little pine tree, reaching for the sky...

 cattails and tiny water plants,

surrounded by freshly fallen petals...

and, as always, the fresh, soothing green of the Kinneyconnick Creek!




For even more GREEN adventures, check out the blogs of our Searching for RoyGBiv hostesses, Jennifer Coyne Qudeen and Julie Booth, where you'll find links to the greens of other Search participants!

Ephemeral

Often I am struck, and deeply touched, by how willing some people are to share their inner life with their blog readers. When I read posts such as Jude Hill's 'As a child I was very afraid', or Denise of grrl+dog's 'My Dad as a Voodoo Doll', I feel I have been given a gift.  A gift of trust. After all, how could you put yourself out there like that without a great amount of trust that someone would read it with an open mind, without making judgements? How can they trust that anyone is even interested in their most private, personal stories? These people, I think, are very brave.

I often feel that no one wants to know about my real feelings, as if even friends and family members are only thinking of what they want to say next instead of actually listening while I blather on. And this may well be the case. But sometimes I think that maybe I should try to be brave, especially when something happens in my life that makes it hard for me to carry on as normal. The death of someone very dear to me, who has always been there to love and support me since the day I was born, certainly qualifies as one of those events.

Ephemeral

ingredients: vintage book covers, vintage ephemera such as stamps, book pages and handwritten notebook pages, ribbon, lace, vintage game piece, monotype, stitching



I made this piece two days after my grandmother's funeral.  It seems that making art is my way of processing things.

About being brave - I'm not very good at it.


The Summer Day 
by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-- the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down--
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

Essence?

I finished this piece over a month ago, but have had some issues with getting things photographed due to my camera not working and the weather not cooperating (to say the least!). It's hard for me to describe what this piece is about, so I'll just say it's about essence. I was going to title it Between the Veils, but maybe Essence would be a better title.

ingredients: vintage book cover, pages, and spine; image transfer, drawing, collage, stitching, feathers, watercolor pencils



Bone
by Mary Oliver

1.

Understand, I am always trying to figure out

what the soul is,

and where hidden,

and what shape

and so, last week,

when I found on the beach

the ear bone

of a pilot whale that may have died

hundreds of years ago, I thought

maybe I was close

to discovering something

for the ear bone

2.

is the portion that lasts longest

in any of us, man or whale; shaped

like a squat spoon

with a pink scoop where

once, in the lively swimmer's head,

it joined its two sisters

in the house of hearing,

it was only

two inches long

and thought: the soul

might be like this

so hard, so necessary

3.

yet almost nothing.

Beside me

the gray sea

was opening and shutting its wave-doors,

unfolding over and over

its time-ridiculing roar;

I looked but I couldn't see anything

through its dark-knit glare;

yet don't we all know, the golden sand

is there at the bottom,

though our eyes have never seen it,

nor can our hands ever catch it

4.

lest we would sift it down

into fractions, and facts

certainties

and what the soul is, also

I believe I will never quite know.

Though I play at the edges of knowing,

truly I know

our part is not knowing,

but looking, and touching, and loving,

which is the way I walked on,

softly,

through the pale-pink morning light.

RoYELLOWgbiv

It's hard to believe it's the third Thursday of the month already!  Though I've been anxiously waiting for signs of Spring - which I'm beginning to see, though none are yellow - time still seems to fly by.  Paradoxical, isn't it? Coincidentally, in fact, I believe today is the first day of Spring, also known as the Vernal equinox, when the sun crosses the plane of the equator, making night and day approximately the same length all over the earth. Here are a couple of graphics for you (sorry, not yellow):

Since I'm not seeing much yellow in my surroundings right now, I thought I'd start with some of my favorite flower photos from Glacier National Park, in the northwest corner of Montana.

Oh, yes, it's a glorious place!



Next, a selection of  some of my older pieces of art that prominantly feature yellow:

 Transformation 24

 Gateway

 Transformation 4

Icarus Reborn

And finally, here is what I'm dreaming of:

Head on over to Jennifer Coyne Qudeen's beautiful blog for more yellow!

Happy Spring (or Happy Fall, as the case my be), everyone!

Glimpses

Glimpses

ingredients: vintage book cover and spine; monotypes, ephemera, ribbon, stitching                 7.5 x 9.5 inches

I seem to remember
bright flashes
of clarity
I could almost touch
before they dissolved
tantalizing
ephemeral
pieces
of a forgotten dream
moving through time
then vanished

For Emma

For Emma

ingredients: vintage book cover, vintage lace, vintage book pages and ephemera, Derwent watercolor pencils, stitching

I found this written in a 100 year-old book:

Remember me when death shall close

These eyelids in their last repose

And when the wind doth gently wave

The grass that grows upon my grave

                                                   Emma K

I have no idea who Emma K. was, or what prompted her to pencil these words onto a page of this book.  But I tried to imagine her, anyway, and what she might have been like.  Maybe she loved butterflies, and lace.  Maybe she loved to sew.  Perhaps she read a book with a bitter-sweet ending, and it got her thinking.  She wanted to be remembered.  And so I made this for her, a girl I never knew, so we'll remember.