Both Hands raised, gnarled and twisted like branches of an old apple tree she holds them steady, radiating an abundant blessing. Her love Is palatable, tender fruitfulness and motherly strength, her beauty continues to give life and blessing. Her trueness, her secure naked soul unhindered by youth or vanity, her giving; pure and free flowing. Stripped by the love she gives, nourished by the spirit within, she’s fully blossomed wise and radiant, full and rooted. In the shade an warmth, all beneath her branches grow in blessing… ~Edward Donato 2017
I see better with my hands I sense better by touch, like following the lines left by the original sculptor I feel her intention, his love, strength and desire. As my hand slowly passes over I feel the subtle temperatures and texture, the contour and variations. I feel the weaknesses the vulnerabilities, the fractures and scars. I feel the perfection the strength and power. I appreciate it all and can sense the wisdom and balance achieved by the creator…With my hand I am not deceived by shadow or lens, I feel the energy pass trough my fingers directly to my heart.
Deep underwater the pressure squeezes my entire being, a faint light flickers above, my feet are bound in seaweed and grass, my arms burn with exertion as I force myself toward that shimmer, my lungs are screaming for air as I clench my mouth and jaw shut resisting the unrelenting urge to breath in. With each stoke of my weakening arms the light expands, drawing from that light and almost as if it was pulling me I stroke again and again. Now only feet from that summit, that edge, I desperately covet. The closer I get the more my body supplicates for that life giving air, to be freed from that murky hypothermic water of bondage. Fire now burning within, my head crests and then explodes out of that wretchedness, my mouth unbolts with force as that sacred breath floods my lungs, my body lightens as that air brings me buoyant! Empowered I reach down and rip those shackles from my feet, the moon illuminates the shore her reflection becomes a path as I swim to life…
Saturated and engulfed in divine light my sight became no longer necessary, intense heat and intense cold were felt but no pain then my feeling vanished, hearing the universal sound ring though me I no longer heard, tasting & smelling the charge of source I melded into oneness, no longer a singular experience but the One.
Paper to love our currency must transform, bringing true abundance and wealth.
Aggression in our action and tongue we smelt burning away the impurities revealing the truth which is our fear, Sitting with fear, with true compassion, courage and strength will transmute the venom to true medicine.
Bars and arsenals will melt into art of freedom and peace.
When you receive something made by me you not only behold an object crafted by the hands I employ, you receive a part of me, a part of my history, my experience, my relationships, triumphs and failures. All these underlying bits that make up a deeper part of the structure of the physical object you now have are invisible, silently resting within and around it. Those precious weekends spent with my late eldest brother as he quenched my thirst to learn; sharing the mysteries of welding and leading me into understanding. The endless household projects my mother asked and allowed me to do which unknowingly lead me to a deeper understanding of not only the task but myself, teaching me the much needed virtues of seeing things through to completion, knowing there is a way to resolve all issues and the trust a courage to face my fears. The invisible I-beams of love and constant “positive energy” my grandmother told me she was always sending me that also make their way into my work. The finesse taught by the dear man who took me under his wing and shared his wisdom and love like I was a son and of who I considered my father. So much is part of our lives, and flavors what we do, so much is unseen and unknown from the outside like vast oceans under which lay an entire world. When you behold anything made by another imagine these things, appreciate not only the hands, mouth, or mind that created them but the ocean of others (your self included) that all contributed a piece of themselves too. Do good!
Cool and damp I lie content in darkness when I am shaken and loosened from the constant embrace I was in, a warm light pours over me. I feel myself being lifted, I hear a sound, a calming and gentle sound. I feel pressure and squeezing, I feel my being change with each constriction of those two warm beings. Again I hear that calming sound as I listen intently and in appreciation for its rhythmic and low vibration like the rumble of thunder as it fades and penetrates. I feel my self becoming warm and loose as I am massaged continuously. There begins, a sensation of form of order about myself, once again I hear that gentle sound now though the rhythmic sound begins to be understood with each warming touch and softening kneed I hear thanks, and adoration, now completely submissive and pliable I hear love, I realize this is all focused at me saturating me with its very energy. My spirt now awakened I hear “what form shall you take precious earth?” As I am massaged and folded an odd desire possesses my spirit, an urge, an inner questioning, never before felt, never before asked, an exhilaration of possibility fill my essence! Thoughts of many different forms flood through me as I envision all the beauty I’ve seen. There is one form that begs from within to be realized and as soon as I acknowledged it without any attempt to communicate it I feel the warm hands that brought me out of the Earth begin to shape me as if connected to my consciousness.
Drawing this morning when a voice spoke to me. As I rubbed the eraser across an unneeded line the voice spoke, “It is the same in life”. I continued with my sketch thinking about this comment. The same in life? I thought. Erasing? The voice said “yes”, “the letting go of the unneeded elements”. “As you move through life you pick up many things along the way from relationships and habits to material objects” “Each thing connects to your life” the voice said. “Similar to your drawing you need these things to anchor the next line, the next step, into the next stage of your development and experience”.
Of course I thought! Not only do the removal of lines reveal the intended beauty or subject, they also bring clarity, even discovery! Little thought is paid and there is even an excitement while drawing and removing stray lines to see your vision. So should it be with life. As we gather things along the way we should understand their impermanence, not in a disrespectful, selfish, or consuming way but in reverence and appreciation knowing that each piece is helping to create the whole. The issue is with attachment and the abilty to let go, welcoming change, clearer vision, and a deeper understanding of who this person is that you have the pleasure of being. Letting these lines go and clearing the page of life of all the unnecessary fragments and clutter allows for clarity.
I then thought, what lines, what fragments of my life should be let go of? How do I know? The voice said “Step back”. Step Back? Ive heard that before, my art instructor use to tell me that a lot! “Eddie step back from your work!” “your getting too focused on that one area”.
How do I step back from a life I’m in was the next obvious question. “You do it all the time Eddie” said the now seemingly resident voice in my head. “You use to be really good at it when you were a young man!” it continued.
Just as making it a point to step back from your work allows clearer vision and perspective so does making time to meditate and be thankful for the many wonderful things and moments in your life. With consistent practice your vision becomes clearer, the mind more still and a sense of knowing is unveiled.
Maybe it’s not stepping back so much as its stepping in, in regards to life. The important thing is to not carry it all, to allow the beauty that is your life to radiate unmuted.
I placed the paper grocery bag containing a jar of peanut butter and jelly in the bed of my old pickup truck. As I pulled out on to the road, leaving the parking lot of the market I heard the jars rumbling about like a pair of rambunctious children set free! I looked in the mirror and sure enough there they were playfully rolling about…