revelation

a dream of violence. it was as if i was teleported back to childhood, my mother & father in the stairwell of the apartment building we grew up in viciously fighting. my brother was mixed in there somehow, he was getting hurt. i could sense the vibrational atmosphere of my youth: emotional instability, financial difficulty, constant fighting. i had called the police & the dispatcher kept repeating back the wrong information. i was worried the police would go to a different house. i hoped they would arrive during the action, not when everything was already over, when it would seem like it never happened, where i would then be in danger of getting beaten for breaching our private world with other eyes seeing what really happened behind our doors.

i watched from the top of the stairs. saw mom get tossed around, her clothes torn, and they are still fighting; i could feel the energy behind it. my brother makes it out of the fray & to the room we shared with bunk beds. he was trying to complete some homework. he then shared with me that he had a girlfriend at school and he was hiding something from her, hiding his feelings. he created a whole other internet blog to write these feelings in and she found it, was upset about him not sharing with her. i understood the whole situation. i realize then the police never make it to our house.

i emerge from dreamstate (which feels almost like a memory) to a room with heavy stagnant air & a sky so thick with haze it is as though the weather was dreaming with me. i am stunned, remembering old feelings, how i grew up; the trauma & shock of these emotional rages i witnessed & was sometimes the center of. i fold myself over and surrender the images, the feelings, the tightness in my jaw. breathe in & let these tired black sticky feelings release.

to prepare myself for the day, i sound tone all my chakras, drink a coconut water/banana.spinach smoothie, apply khus oil to raise energy. i balance between allowing healing & taking action to ensure i am kept in a space i need to be to live life deeply & fully, lifted, bright.the dream comes right before i am to paint, so i know it is a messenger.

i come before my work. no one else can paint this painting or speak these words. the message:

i MAKE energy, i am a GENERATOR. a Source.

creation is desire, breath, reaching, fluids, timing, waiting.

creation is inevitable.

Creation Is.

as i paint and see images begin to greet me, i try & guess what they are. i ask the painting: "is that a tree?". it responds: "i don't know, is it?". i continue to paint and see that it is a tree. but then, it begins to feel like a mountain. i ask: "is this a mountain?" and after some strokes it becomes the visual to that word. but i feel heat, or maybe the color is a bit ashy. i ask: "is it a volcano?" and minutes later there are cracked lines in it pouring & spurting lava.

i Choose and it Is.

i remember the dream, early life, and breathe deep.
i choose and it is, even at a time it seemed i had no control

in this creation dimension i feel colors, touch them,
laugh with delight, shift shapes around finding
and feeling for the passion, charged up, reveling in
the revelation that i create destiny with each choice,
that if i lack anything, i can always make more & pour
it back into my life, makes shapes & name what i see,
heart-breath-vision-sound solidifying my feelings
wrapped around my thoughts. when the question is:
is this my life, is this my destiny? the answer is already
at the tips of my fingers.

and then, i see it.

source painting scrawlings: second day

i arrived early for painting assistant duties vibrating on a high from days of magic; emotional tidal waves of bliss, love and sensual peace shining through my eyes and working through my hands to set the space in order: water in the cups, floor swept, garbage out, meeting room spiffed, paint bottles shaken, both floors sage-smudged & channeled deep prayers that spun healing intentions into the space itself, touching all participants before their arrival with that intense sensation i held. i was effusive, smiling & motivated to spend a day in visual/spatial dimension.

then it all turned.

this is what happens when paintings need to grow: paper added with tape too sticky strong & ripping or bunching up in odd wads or catching before the pieces are lined up along the edges. needed to cut cardboard working surface with dull scissors for easier swapping of work spaces, moving canvases to make more room to spread. the labor was intensive and help was needed in many directions. a creeping foul feeling began to permeate my mood. i noticed it as a sharp contrast to how i began the day. irritation, frustration rising.

by noon, we had set ourselves in the Angel room to transmit a prayer to the waters of Fukushima, Japan at the behest of Dr. Emoto, who called for a worldwide water blessing on this day at 12pm in every time zone. i fell into this space deeply, felt a strong sensation of giving, sending healing and was pulled out of it by the ringing of a bell.

4 hours went by and i had hardly touched my painting. by the time i made it to my own station, i was reluctant to do anything to it. i saw it wanted to expand but after growing other paintings, it hurt to think of the tediousness of the task. i resisted. i moved some paint across the surface, but it was not at all fulfilling.

and then, i saw it. i saw how i treat myself, the thoughts overlayed upon the canvas of my awake state. that sometimes i give to others & when it's my turn to do for me, i am unmotivated, i lack the energy or will for it. i could clearly see my reactions to the activities of the day had nothing to do with what was happening in front of me. that i was flowing easy like a river, and suddenly hit a dam. it's obvious something is in the way inside, feeling myself strike against this barrier & jamming up my flow of good feelings. this is part of the Source painting process.

and this strange aversion to do for my own picture what i did for others all day could not abide. i looked around & saw everyone so engaged in their work since the cumbersome task of expanding the surface was accomplished. i avoided asking for help to allow them continued involvement with their images. i took my work off the wall & added more space to fill, taping & re-taping to get the bones of the painting as perfect as i could manage. whatever poison may have spit out in thoughts or feelings i consciously halted from feeding off of my attention.

being called for another task, i felt so weak i could not even sit up with my own power, sinking into my left hand as my right hand scribed a dialog process. when it was done, i came before my painting once more & filled the new sheets of paper with bluepurpleturquoise as fast as i could smear, binding it in continuity with the rest of the image.

i lacked energy so deeply i really thought i could die. i went into the Angel room & slept. i remember no sounds, no thoughts. i awoke when someone entered the room. painting time was over. everyone gathered into the room to check in. sitting up, i felt more like i did at the start of class, easily happy, nurtured, bright. that dam felt dismantled, that it took so much energy to do it and now that it was done i flowed again, touched that part of myself that needed help. i cheerfully relayed my day & was so grateful to have had the space to discover & mend this place within myself, grateful for the construct of this class to have brought it to my awareness: to give to myself so that i can give.

even though my painting hasn't reached a certain fullness of expression, i feel ready to dive in day 3 and give it everything i have to give. determined!