This morning, after I painted the gray sky in the east, I noticed that I felt the impression of what I had painted in the cells of my body– not the sunrise sky itself, but what I had painted. I could see that doing the painting has fortified me in my own body.

Within the light that out of the world-wide heights

Would stream with power toward the soul,

May certainty of cosmic thinking

Arise to solve the soul’s enigmas–

And focusing on its mighty rays,

Awaken love in human hearts.

— Rudolf Steiner

“My Salvation” is my expression of an icon. I have been exploring this imagery for some time now. The ability to take an extensive story and put into one image intrigues me. This story is of a spirited being that has a deep connection to the people of the past and the environment around them. The spirit of this being is full of life, hope and wisdom and is sharing that with the world. Each ray has the potential to impact others. Basswood, Copper, Fur, Feathers, Acrylic and Stain. March 2014

— Drew Michael

But if you do know what is taught by plants and weather, you are in on the gossip and can feel truly more at home. The sum of a field’s forces becomes what we call very loosely the ‘spirit of the place.’ To know the spirit of a place is to realize that you are a part of a part and that the whole is made of parts, each of which is a whole. You start with the part you are whole in.

–by Gary Snyder

I went to McGinley’s for the Irish session on Sunday and followed the steps shown on the journal page. This is what came up when I just let the pen move. I drew the woman standing on the ground, and then thought, “I’ll draw some clouds.” The “clouds” became the other figure. I have thoughts about it, but I am not attaching to them. Just letting things simmer and evolve.

“Ask the Fuchsias”

Out of the ruined houses
nettles leap barking like wolves,
defensive and territorial,
full of contained aggression.

The ash trees sigh and whisper quietly;
new comers they,
a green roof rising from the roofless parlour.

People lived here and left the year I was born.
They took their livestock and their roof with them.

The ash trees are too young to remember.
They know nothing of Death yet.
They could ask the fuchsias: they know.

© mike absalom

I am painting a series of sunrises…

As I begin the sunrise series of watercolors, I see that not only will I be recording each unique sunrise. I will also be recording my relationship with the sunrise, as well as my increasing knowledge of working with the watercolors. Today’s experience was much lighter and more spontaneous than yesterday’s. And I am happy with both.

I have been observing sunrise for several years, as a meditation. This series has grown out of that.

I am palpably sensing the impression of the sunrise I painted in my eyes. I have sensation in my eyes, a gentle, tender sensation. And in my mind’s eye, this sensation is one with the painting that I just did.

THE SOUL LIKE THE MOON

The soul, like the moon,
is new, and always new again.

And I have seen the ocean
continuously creating.

Since I scoured my mind
and my body, I too, Lalla,
am new, each moment new.

My teacher told me one thing.
Live in the soul.

When that was so,
I began to go naked,
and dance.

~ Lalla

The poem is from Naked Song (transl. by Coleman Barks). Lalla Ded (1320–1392) was a Kashmiri mystic. She wrote many devotional and mystic poems, expressing her longing for the Divine.

Last evening I attended the induction ceremonies for the Alaska Women’s Hall of Fame at Wilda Marston Theater. I allowed the pen to “do it’s thing,”  and this is what happened. It seems to be the form of an indigenous women composed of lots of people; she also has children on her back. This month I am working on bringing forth the voice of the land through drawing. I got some “tips” as I did this, which I wrote on the page. At the end, I experienced the emerald sparkling energy, which I feel is coming from Ireland. I’ll be patient about interpreting this and just continue to “do” it. Scary.