I will dive down into the depth of the ocean, hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless.

First ray of light, Face Rock, Bandon, Oregon.

 

“I dive down into the depth of the ocean of forms,

hoping to gain the perfect pearl of the formless”

 

---------Ocean of Forms, Rabindranath Tagore

 

It was just fantastic to wake up to a scene like this. The morning was windy and when we arrived at the beach shortly before sunrise, there were already a few photographers working the scene. When I saw the first ray of light brightening up Face Rock, I kept thinking this was just out of this world! It was so surreal and I was simply awestruck!

 

When I finished shooting the morning session at the beach, I noticed the entire front element of my camera lens was covered with mist. I was not sure how long it had been there, but I did remember not cleaning my lens the night before. Oh well…….

 

Please visit My Website

 

בְּרֵאשִׁית, בָּרָא אֱלֹהִים, אֵת הַשָּׁמַיִם, וְאֵת הָאָרֶץ. ב וְהָאָרֶץ, הָיְתָה תֹהוּ וָבֹהוּ, וְחֹשֶׁךְ, עַל-פְּנֵי תְהוֹם; וְרוּחַ אֱלֹהִים, מְרַחֶפֶת עַל-פְּנֵי הַמָּיִם. ג וַיֹּאמֶר אֱלֹהִים, יְהִי אוֹר; וַיְהִי-אוֹר. ד וַיַּרְא אֱלֹהִים אֶת-הָאוֹר, כִּי-טוֹב; וַיַּבְדֵּל אֱלֹהִים, בֵּין הָאוֹר וּבֵין הַחֹשֶׁךְ. ה וַיִּקְרָא אֱלֹהִים לָאוֹר יוֹם, וְלַחֹשֶׁךְ קָרָא לָיְלָה; וַיְהִי-עֶרֶב וַיְהִי-בֹקֶר, יוֹם אֶחָד.

Genesis

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. 2Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

3And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. 4God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. 5God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day.

Big Bang should be modeled as a phase change: the moment when an amorphous, formless universe analogous to liquid water cooled and suddenly crystallized to form four-dimensional space-time, analogous to ice.

We are again on the hills above Titchwell, looking out to the North Sea. I doubt if this picture will interest many people, but to me it suggests the particular feeling I have about this coast - that it is less a place than a state: Elusive, formless, open yet mysterious, never explaining itself.

 

I was unsure what lens I had used here - but a protractor and a satellite picture resolved any doubt :) One reads various opinions about the Zuiko lenses - I have nothing but praise for this wonderful 35mm and the equally excellent 50mm f1.4. I have certainly never encountered better SLR lenses.

 

Above Titchwell, Norfolk. Olympus OM-2n, Zuiko f2.8 35mm, Kodak T-Max 400, Orange Filter.

 

Elementals often descend into the earth in a relatively formless state leaving only an atmosphere streaked here and there by fine lines of magnetism. To see these spirits requires at least etheric sight or preferably higher forms of psychic vision.

 

denniscordell.zenfolio.com

 

also:

 

www.elephantjournal.com/2020/12/some-notes-on-nature-spir...

Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming, USA

 

Canon EOS 5D Mark IV

Canon EF 16-35 f/2.8 II USM

Wearing anything?

(I am)

 

Read about this night at sophielynne1.blogspot.com/2013/05/formless.html

  

Borobudur Indonesia

The monument is both a shrine to the Lord Buddha and a place for Buddhist pilgrimage. The journey for pilgrims begins at the base of the monument and follows a path around the monument and ascends to the top through three levels symbolic of Buddhist cosmology: Kāmadhātu (the world of desire), Rupadhatu (the world of forms) and Arupadhatu (the world of formlessness). The design of Borobudur took the form of a step pyramid.

The monument guides pilgrims through an extensive system of stairways and corridors with 1,460 narrative relief panels on the walls and the balustrades.

Into a strange new world, into the after

All your tears might find you've fallen too far

Take another look, take another ride

Can't we make them leave the hate behind

 

And I still believe in nothing

Will we ever see the shape of tomorrow?

 

Into the empty storm, into the formless loss of hope,

Where we can forget the game

 

And I still believe in nothing

Will we ever see the cure for our sorrow

 

Nothing is sacred when no one is saved

Nothing's forever so count your days

Nothing is final and no one is real

Pray for tomorrow and find you're empty still

 

Nothing

 

Song: Believe in Nothing

By: All That Remains

Album: Overcome

Song 2 Day 2 of 30 Songs in 30 Days

 

I give up after 2 days....I quit!!

I figured this would be easy till I realized most my music is about death, violence, political upheaval, social unrest, Satan, and well...you get the idea....It's kind of difficult to do a picture about a song where 5 men beat another to death with a hammer...

View large.

A tribute to my favorite poet, ROBERT SERVICE.

Until i get to the Yukon this small

Irish mountain will have to suffice,

The Law of the Yukon

This is the law of the Yukon, and ever she makes it plain:

"Send not your foolish and feeble; send me your strong and your sane --

Strong for the red rage of battle; sane for I harry them sore;

Send me men girt for the combat, men who are grit to the core;

Swift as the panther in triumph, fierce as the bear in defeat,

Sired of a bulldog parent, steeled in the furnace heat.

Send me the best of your breeding, lend me your chosen ones;

Them will I take to my bosom, them will I call my sons;

Them will I gild with my treasure, them will I glut with my meat;

But the others -- the misfits, the failures -- I trample under my feet.

Dissolute, damned and despairful, crippled and palsied and slain,

Ye would send me the spawn of your gutters -- Go! take back your spawn again.

 

"Wild and wide are my borders, stern as death is my sway;

From my ruthless throne I have ruled alone for a million years and a day;

Hugging my mighty treasure, waiting for man to come,

Till he swept like a turbid torrent, and after him swept -- the scum.

The pallid pimp of the dead-line, the enervate of the pen,

One by one I weeded them out, for all that I sought was -- Men.

One by one I dismayed them, frighting them sore with my glooms;

One by one I betrayed them unto my manifold dooms.

Drowned them like rats in my rivers, starved them like curs on my plains,

Rotted the flesh that was left them, poisoned the blood in their veins;

Burst with my winter upon them, searing forever their sight,

Lashed them with fungus-white faces, whimpering wild in the night;

 

Staggering blind through the storm-whirl, stumbling mad through the snow,

Frozen stiff in the ice-pack, brittle and bent like a bow;

Featureless, formless, forsaken, scented by wolves in their flight,

Left for the wind to make music through ribs that are glittering white;

Gnawing the black crust of failure, searching the pit of despair,

Crooking the toe in the trigger, trying to patter a prayer;

Going outside with an escort, raving with lips all afoam,

Writing a cheque for a million, driveling feebly of home;

Lost like a louse in the burning. . .or else in the tented town

Seeking a drunkard's solace, sinking and sinking down;

Steeped in the slime at the bottom, dead to a decent world,

Lost 'mid the human flotsam, far on the frontier hurled;

In the camp at the bend of the river, with its dozen saloons aglare,

Its gambling dens ariot, its gramophones all ablare;

Crimped with the crimes of a city, sin-ridden and bridled with lies,

In the hush of my mountained vastness, in the flush of my midnight skies.

Plague-spots, yet tools of my purpose, so natheless I suffer them thrive,

Crushing my Weak in their clutches, that only my Strong may survive.

 

"But the others, the men of my mettle, the men who would 'stablish my fame

Unto its ultimate issue, winning me honor, not shame;

Searching my uttermost valleys, fighting each step as they go,

Shooting the wrath of my rapids, scaling my ramparts of snow;

Ripping the guts of my mountains, looting the beds of my creeks,

Them will I take to my bosom, and speak as a mother speaks.

I am the land that listens, I am the land that broods;

Steeped in eternal beauty, crystalline waters and woods.

Long have I waited lonely, shunned as a thing accurst,

Monstrous, moody, pathetic, the last of the lands and the first;

Visioning camp-fires at twilight, sad with a longing forlorn,

Feeling my womb o'er-pregnant with the seed of cities unborn.

Wild and wide are my borders, stern as death is my sway,

And I wait for the men who will win me -- and I will not be won in a day;

And I will not be won by weaklings, subtle, suave and mild,

But by men with the hearts of vikings, and the simple faith of a child;

Desperate, strong and resistless, unthrottled by fear or defeat,

Them will I gild with my treasure, them will I glut with my meat.

 

"Lofty I stand from each sister land, patient and wearily wise,

With the weight of a world of sadness in my quiet, passionless eyes;

Dreaming alone of a people, dreaming alone of a day,

When men shall not rape my riches, and curse me and go away;

Making a bawd of my bounty, fouling the hand that gave --

Till I rise in my wrath and I sweep on their path and I stamp them into a grave.

Dreaming of men who will bless me, of women esteeming me good,

Of children born in my borders of radiant motherhood,

Of cities leaping to stature, of fame like a flag unfurled,

As I pour the tide of my riches in the eager lap of the world."

 

This is the Law of the Yukon, that only the Strong shall thrive;

That surely the Weak shall perish, and only the Fit survive.

Dissolute, damned and despairful, crippled and palsied and slain,

This is the Will of the Yukon, -- Lo, how she makes it plain!

Do not use this image on websites, blogs or other media without my permission.

© All rights reserved.

A LINK TO MY GALLERY ON PBASE

www.pbase.com/edwarddullard

Empty your mind, be formless shapeless like water - Bruce Lee

 

The neat thing about drawing Aku is that he's technically a formless being, so nothing on him can really be oversized or out of proportion. He can be whatever the hell he wants. I made him resemble a broken tree since a tree is more or less what he is/where he came from.

The Inscription of Breath: When Darkness Unveils the Being

Like a heartbeat suspended in the timeless, a frozen moment where shadow and light merge in a fragile balance. The gaze, piercing yet imbued with an unspeakable softness, captures something beyond the visible—an echo of the soul, a whisper from the universe.

 

The hair escapes like an expanding wave, a living matter where each curl is a filament of thought, a fractal of memory suspended in time. Between the strands, the skin seems to be the last stronghold of the tangible before sinking into an obscure abstraction, a space where the body fades into the formless.

 

The intensity of the composition lies in this duality: the sharpness of a face that defies the surrounding blur, the anchoring in a gaze that both questions and reveals. It is a figure oscillating between embodiment and dissolution, between presence and disappearance.

 

This portrait is not merely an image; it is a breach in reality, a silhouette caught in dying light, a reflection of the invisible that now gazes back at us.

Week 5 /52

 

Shiva is the god of the yogis, self-controlled and celibate, while at the same time a lover of his spouse (Shakti). Lord Shiva is the destroyer of the world, following Brahma the creator and Vishnu the preserver, after which Brahma again creates the world and so on. Shiva is responsible for change both in the form of death and destruction and in the positive sense of destroying the ego, the false identification with the form. This also includes the shedding of old habits and attachments.

 

While of course many hindu deities are associated with different paths of yoga and meditation, in Shiva the art of meditation takes its most absolute form. In meditation, not only mind is stopped, everything is dropped. In deep meditation or samadhi, even the object of the meditation (like a mantra) is transformed into its formless essence, which is the essence of everything and everyone. Thus Shiva stands for letting go of everything in the world of forms. The path of Lord Shiva is the path of the ascetic yogi.

 

Tribute to Shiva

 

Production Assistant - Nádia Carvalho

Wardrobe - Glória Teixeira

Makeup - Bárbara Silva

Photography - Carlos Neto

 

[published on 1x.com]

For the wise one who has known Self by divining within himself, there is nothing other than Self to be known. Why?

Because since the ego which identifies the form of a body as `I' has perished, the wise one is the formless existence-consciousness. The one who has realized the Self knows he is the Self and that nothing, neither his body nor anything else, exists but the Self. To such a one what difference could the presence or absence of a body make?

 

It is false to speak of realization. What is there to realize? The real is as it is always. We are not creating anything new or achieving something which we did not have before. The illustration given in books is this. We dig a well and create a huge pit. The space in the pit or well has not been created by us. We have just removed the earth which was filling the space there. The space was there then and is also there now. Similarly we have simply to throw out all the age-long samskaras [innate tendencies] which are inside us. When all of them have been given up, the Self will shine alone.

 

Be as you are – The teachings of sri Ramana Maharishi

Hace algún tiempo, apareció en las pantallas de nuestras televisiones un spot publicitario de automóviles, producido por Álamo Films, que tuvo una gran repercusión. Este spot utilizó un fragmento de la llamada “entrevista secreta a Bruce Lee”, donde se muestra una mínima parte de sus enseñanzas.

Para Bruce Lee la vida era un proceso de autoanálisis lleno de retos y de crecimiento paso a paso. No hay que dejarse cegar por ella, no hay que copiar moldes anteriores por muy buenos que sean, ni aprender de memoria enseñanzas dogmáticas que nos alejan de la frescura y espontaneidad propia del ser humano.

 

“Vacía tu mente, sé amorfo, moldeable, como el agua. Si pones agua en una taza, se convierte en la taza; si pones agua en una botella, se convierte en la botella; si la pones en una tetera, se convierte en la tetera. El agua puede fluir o puede aplastar. Sé agua, Amigo mío, el agua que corre nunca se estanca, así es que hay que seguir fluyendo”.

  

Bruce Lee - Se agua, amigo mio

 

------------------------------------------- 0000000000000000000000000 ----------------------------------------

 

Some time ago, appeared on the screens of our television advertising spot a car produced by Alamo Films, which had a big impact. This spot used a fragment of the "secret interview with Bruce Lee", which shows a small part of his teachings.

For Bruce Lee's life was full of self-analysis and growth challenges step by step. Do not be blinded by it, not to copy previous molds good they are, or memorize dogmatic teachings that take us away from the freshness and spontaneity inherent in our humanity.

  

"Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless - like water. Now you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup, if you put water into a bottle, it becomes the bottle if you put it in a teapot it becomes the teapot. Now water can flow or it can crush. Be water, my friend, running water never stagnates, so we must continue to flow. "

 

Be water, my friend

In a certain sense, Adam's sin was a sin arising from inquisitiveness, if such an expression be admissible. Originally, Adam saw contingencies in the aspect of their relationship to God and not as independent entities. Anything that is considered in that relationship is beyond the reach of evil; but the desire to see contingency as it is in itself is a desire to see evil; it is also a desire to see good as something contrary to evil. As a result of this sin of inquisitiveness - Adam wanted to see the "other side" of contingency - Adam himself and the whole world fell into contingency as such; the link with the divine Source was broken and became invisible; the world became suddenly external to Adam, things became opaque and heavy, they became like unintelligible and hostile fragments. This drama is always repeating itself anew, in collective history as well as in the life of individuals.

 

A meaningless knowledge, a knowledge to which we have no right either by virtue of its nature, or of our capacities, and therefore by virtue of our vocation, is not a knowledge that enriches, but one that impoverishes. Adam had become poor after having acquired knowledge of contingency as such, or of contingency in so far as it limits. We must distrust the fascination which an abyss can exert over us; it is in the nature of cosmic blind-alleys to seduce and to play the vampire; the current of forms does not want us to escape from its hold.

 

Forms can be snares just as they can be symbols and keys; beauty can chain us to forms, just as it can also be a door opening towards the formless.

 

Or again, from a slightly different point of view: the sin of Adam consists in effect of having wished to superimpose something on existence, and existence was beatitude; Adam thereby lost this beatitude and was engulfed in the anxious and deceptive turmoil of superfluous things.

 

Instead of reposing in the immutable purity of Existence, fallen man is drawn into the dance of things that exist, and they, being accidents, are delusive and perishable.

 

---

 

Frithjof Schuon

 

---

 

Quoted in: The Essential Frithjof Schuon (edited by Seyyed Hossein Nasr)

 

Coogee sits on Coogee Bay, with the Tasman Sea in the east. Coogee Beach is a popular swimming and body-boarding beach in Sydney. (Wikipedia)

 

Full disclosure : This photo is a composite. Today was an absolutely horrible day to go shooting at the beach. It rained for most of the time that I was out there and the sky was filled with formless and colourless clouds. I had to rescue this shot by replacing the sky from another photo in my collection.

Almighty God Uses His Word to Save Man - "The Main Purpose of God's work in the Flesh" (Music Video)

 

www.holyspiritspeaks.org/videos/the-main-purpose-of-gods-...

 

1. God comes into flesh for the main purpose to make man see God’s practical deeds. He realizes the formless Spirit in the flesh so that man can touch and see Him. In this way, people made complete by Him can be those who live out Him. They are ones who are gained by Him, and ones who are after His heart.

 

2. If God only spoke utterances from the heavens and didn’t practically come to earth, man would never know God. They would just convey God’s deeds with hollow theories, but would never have God’s words as reality. God comes to earth to set an example and serve as a model for those He will gain. In this way, man can come to know God, touch God, and see God in a practical way. And only in this way can he truly be gained by God. God comes to earth to set an example and serve as a model for those He will gain. In this way, man can come to know God, touch God, and see God in a practical way. And only in this way can he truly be gained by God. And only in this way can he truly be gained by God.

 

from “You Ought to Know That the Practical God Is God Himself” in The Word Appears in the Flesh

 

Terms of Use en.godfootsteps.org/disclaimer.html

  

Some cheesy Bruce Lee quotes (for authenticity, please read with a thick chinese accent):

 

"Be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way round or through it. If nothing within you stays rigid, outward things will disclose themselves."

 

"Empty your mind, be formless. Shapeless, like water. If you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle and it becomes the bottle. Now, water can flow or it can crash. Be water my friend."

 

EDIT: Okay for those having trouble with the accent, here's the man himself: vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&... :)

 

View Large On Black

Only That Illumined One

Who keeps

Seducing the formless into form

Had the charm to win my

Heart.

Only a Perfect One

 

Who is always

Laughing at the word

Two..Can make you know Of Love. .. Hafiz

 

View..Large

 

I n the last 10 years I have lived in this area ,I have often marveled at this truly amazing sight of blossoms with the mountains as a backdrop in the month of March .. and today I finally took the photo I always wanted to take .

 

the mountains are far away across the strait in USA ..

 

I am studying "Creativity " in my class this month and one of the people we are studying is Mihaly Csíkszentmihályi ..( what a name !) and how talks about Flow ...

 

To achieve a flow state, a balance must be struck between the challenge of the task and the skill of the performer. If the task is too easy or too difficult, flow cannot occur.

Both skill level and challenge level must be matched and high; if skill and challenge are low and matched, then apathy results ..

 

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mihaly_Csikszentmihalyi

 

www.ted.com/talks/mihaly_csikszentmihalyi_on_flow.html

Elemental enjoyment

Formless solidification

Emergence of the graspable

Borobudur Temple, Central Java, Indonesia

 

Borobudur, or Barabudur, is a 9th-century Mahayana Buddhist temple in Magelang, Central Java, Indonesia. The monument consists of nine stacked platforms, six square and three circular, topped by a central dome. The temple is decorated with 2,672 relief panels and 504 Buddha statues. The central dome is surrounded by 72 Buddha statues, each seated inside a perforated stupa.[1] It is the world's largest Buddhist temple,[2][3] as well as one of the greatest Buddhist monuments in the world.[4]

 

Built in the 9th century during the reign of the Sailendra Dynasty, the temple was designed in Javanese Buddhist architecture, which blends the Indonesian indigenous cult of ancestor worship and the Buddhist concept of attaining Nirvana.[4] The temple also demonstrates the influences of Gupta art that reflects India's influence on the region, yet there are enough indigenous scenes and elements incorporated to make Borobudur uniquely Indonesian.[5][6] The monument is both a shrine to the Lord Buddha and a place for Buddhist pilgrimage. The journey for pilgrims begins at the base of the monument and follows a path around the monument and ascends to the top through three levels symbolic of Buddhist cosmology: Kāmadhātu (the world of desire), Rupadhatu (the world of forms) and Arupadhatu (the world of formlessness). The monument guides pilgrims through an extensive system of stairways and corridors with 1,460 narrative relief panels on the walls and the balustrades. Borobudur has the largest and most complete ensemble of Buddhist reliefs in the world.[4]

 

Evidence suggests Borobudur was constructed in the 9th century and abandoned following the 14th-century decline of Hindu kingdoms in Java and the Javanese conversion to Islam.[7] Worldwide knowledge of its existence was sparked in 1814 by Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles, then the British ruler of Java, who was advised of its location by native Indonesians. Borobudur has since been preserved through several restorations. The largest restoration project was undertaken between 1975 and 1982 by the Indonesian government and UNESCO, following which the monument was listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.[4]

 

Borobudur is still used for pilgrimage; once a year, Buddhists in Indonesia celebrate Vesak at the monument, and Borobudur is Indonesia's single most visited tourist attraction. - Wikipedia

 

Offer Bali Photography Tour to discover the beauty of Bali with sharing our photography secret tips and post-processing technique to improve your photography skills.

 

For more information regarding Bali photography tour please contact me at pandu.adnyana@yahoo.com | whatsapp: +6281338511929

 

Facebook l 500px l Getty Images l Instagram

 

All images are copyrighted by PANDU ADNYANA. Do NOT use my images on personal or professional websites, blogs or any other digital or printing media without my explicit permission.

Play with Vermilion on Bijaya Dashami Day - Durga Puja 2013 of our South Madras Cultural Association.

 

Bengalis celebrate Vijayadashami with farewell rituals and puja followed by exchanging 'Shubho Bijoya' festive greetings. "On this day, most of us feel sad as Durga Maa returns to her husband Shiva in heaven. However, we give her a sweet send-off with roshogullas, sandesh and mishti doi and share the same with our friends and family,". Like all Bengalis, her day began with the traditional puja, followed by exchanging 'Shubho Bijoya' meeting family and friends over sweets and salty snacks in the evening.

 

Women, dressed in traditional saris and faces smeared with vermillion is a familiar sight on the last day of Durgapuja. After the four days of celebration comes Vijaya Dasami, when married women apply vermillion or sindoor on the forehead of the goddess and then indulge in 'Sindoor Khela' by applying vermillion on each other's forehead. "We apply vermillion on the Devi and bring back the same from her forehead for the wellbeing of our husbands," this is the belief. Mythologically, red is a colour associated with power while vermillion is considered to be a symbol of the female energy. Parvati and Sati, the epitome of the ideal wives, were supposed to have applied sindoor on their hair.

Source subject to modification - timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/navi-mumbai/Navi-Mumbai-...

  

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Durga, in Sanskrit means - She who is incomprehensible or difficult to reach. Goddess Durga is a form of Sakti worshiped for her gracious as well as terrifying aspect. Mother of the Universe, she represents the infinite power of the universe and is a symbol of a female dynamism. The manifestation of Goddess Durga is said to emerge from Her formless essence and the two are inseparable.

 

The celebrations of Durga puja have references in Indian literature from the 12th century. Earlier the festival was performed only by the rich and powerful people like kings and feudal lords, but today the entire community celebrates Durga Puja.

Celebrated in month of Ashwin of the Hindu calendar (September / October), Goddess Durga (also referred to as "Maa Durga") is worshipped along with her four children - Kartik (The Protector), Ganesh (who symolizes prosperity), Lakshmi (who symbolizes wealth) and Saraswati (who symbolizes knowledge). Her four children complete the manifestation of Goddess Durga.

On the last day of the ten days of the puja, Goddess Durga who represents ‘shakti’ or power, kills the demon Mahishasura and thereby reinstates the triumph of good over evil.

The tenth day, Vijaya Dasami, marks the triumphant ovation of the soul at having attained liberation while living in this world, through the descent of knowledge by the Grace of Goddess Saraswati. The soul rests in his own Supreme Self or Satchidananda Brahman. This day celebrates the victory, the achievement of the goal. The banner of victory flies aloft. Lo! I am He! I am He!

It is on this day, the last and the tenth day, these pictures were taken in Chennai during / after the traditional ritual to bid a goodbye.

Source : Internet.

52/366 #Project366 Macro

iPhone 6. Camera+ Macro.

Post processed in Snapseed.

🎧 microscopic meditations offered for heart and heart's ease, after listening to morning blessings of Mahant Swami Maharaj in his divine presence in Mumbai on 23 February 2023:

 

to see right there in the palm of your hand, a place where consciousness & the subliminal gather in hands cupped like a bowl; to go into the forest with this bowl, where silence and beauty are the deepest; and that’s when the magic happens...

 

phone isn’t

the same string

from person to

person now

that we carry

them and

have no homes

 

eileen myles

 

when you 'get it,' the language is heart's ease - beautiful, connected, resonant; and when you don’t, it can be frustrating to ramble about an isolating experience.{} honesty is a sine qua non to this reflection process...all I want is to be opened.

 

Meditation 1: painful intimacy - emotional openness ...which stems from startled silence of emotion; emotion never dodged, only the details. an intimacy which is not destructive, on the contrary, it becomes constructive to discover through the fogs of silence, the secret of the wounds. an innocent intimacy as you meditate like writing a letter to a close friend, confiding the innermost and intimate nature of that kind of conversation:

 

between two infinities, when one can never spin fast enough to catch a glimpse of the spinning world; zoom in - a pas de loup. body-edged journey squaring the circle; where openness is not charted - soul-flow is getting missed; and so the next second brings storm-clouds ☁ over the head; unguarded position found. le séjour. it brings in triple waves - of emptiness, of hurried emotions (signs of dizziness you don't know) and of deeply unfathomable feelings (when light and darkness is felt closer than ever); feeling cold to take the next step in the shivering rain that never stops, one further feels the subtle clouds looming over a larger distance as far as you can see, to bring in muted moments of indecision. terra incognita - the map of every place in the mind of 'jonathan livingston storm gull'; wherein to find the path means to lose the peace. a silver lining gains a place of esteem in the head-cloud, “we don't patch up and piece together the time spent with illusions.”

 

"I tie my handkerchief

to a kite

to try and dry

the cries of

the clouds up there.

Pour, pour:

oh, if only

I hadn’t loaned

my umbrella

to that submarine!"

.

playing the royal game in circles, 'put the blame on', each and every day, the paper airplanes fly inside through the window; the newspaper has been crying another day older denying any liability in non-fulfillment to worth of life; the auto-triggered paralyzing thoughts of a messy heart slowly finds the status quo - the chaos reigns as reprehensible acts gain momentum and then it will no longer be possible to stave off utter misery; pollen's hardened outer coating, the honey bees cleave the grains at a vulnerable point. a moth-like attraction to the mental processes full of waves of frivolity, that will cost the moth everything; recklessness always turns out to be expensive, yet the mind clothed in rags remains obdurate as it cannot let go the sub-stratum of such images which spring to the impromptu mind who dreams to robe ornate clothing; images which are result of attraction of cohesion to the highest beauty which a flesh-mental-ego self would love to marry. the dense calendar flows like water bursting out through your hands and yet the empty thirst never quenched; and when you really wake up, the corrosive paper airplane has been compelled to form a slowly moving boat of ineptitude, asking you to drink your own tears. with bonds damaged, tissue paper in water, coming apart from a sailing quality. inundated areas of thinking start to project the weakness on others. same emotion tumbling around in your head, amorphous but forming. evaporating as the years pass by and the brooding clouds keep crying. even when the skies clear, there is a constellation of grief around and there is no clearing of deceit-less path to find a way out of the shame, dread, debt, doubt and sadness. lurching between soaring high waves and agonizing lows waves, how can one sail in the ruling tides of haunted past, wistful present, and the disorienting future? simply unmoored, breasting the surging tide, the turbulent seas...

 

heart does the assignment

underlines the words

after mind erases them

the emotion has its own tide coming in

a blank page is a mirror

has the line that won't go away

 

being aware of the deceptive circles in which you move. ripples... as in the mirror, every little bad dream is preening to be remembered; also a reflection of hangover after past that adumbrates the future and so the mind is churned over again to seek relief-joy; a melting point [IIΙ] for wisdom followed by series of griefs, each compounding the last one. the count never ends; but this creates a immobilizing language of circumstances and sad database, which infiltrates the joy of gratitude and the defense of it.

 

"every problem has a solution. the problem is to find the solution to the problem." — pierre filion

 

irredeemably till how long will you will you continue to define yourself but not refine yourself into aligned understanding? restructuring of the self and reality needs to see the essence - 'the soul can always evolve.' backfired, in measuring the positive parts of life, the numbered days of the passing life does not paint the whole picture; and yet they start becoming a Lazy Sunday - each day. and so finding satisfaction in moments of stark relief, punctured in these wasted days, a recluse does not think beyond the merry-go-round of the numbered whole.

 

"Books were to her not an end in themselves but a substitute for living. She raced through folios because she was forbidden to scamper on the grass." Virginia Woolf on Aurora Leigh

 

so much information to be deposited elsewhere keeps coming at you and very little manages to stick and make you think better. things can move better and be possible, only when you are in a state of grace, when deep channels are open throughout; deeply stirred balance maintained. but ignorance can quickly hold us as whole, at most of the times, like no knowing can; because in this shelled ignorance lies body-edged joy brought in quickly, not even giving a fortnight of chance to the story of patience - that which can ripen as the joy of an enduring kind - a story about river meeting it's sea. instead our story becomes like sea channels that needs regular dredging to stay open and that cannot happen by staying shrouded in mystery.

 

futzing around ever since,

a story about story-lessness,

or to become of worthlessness

or ideas left to stew in

vat of pulpy esoteric stew.

again, a fear to lose the face,

in those staircase encounters,

where unsettled ghosts linger.

formlessness of the darkness

living an austere life, existence

you hardly even acknowledge

eyes of others; felt ambivalence

as time passes distance grows

leaves a couple of points undefined.

 

until you really stop to examine

the progression and coherence,

the dreary analytical lines can spin

into excess; inhibiting the soul-work.

an afterthought to character development

wasn’t really addressing any

of the questions that really drew me,

a muffled voice says within & still mumbling

 

lines follow shifts in the thoughts and feelings

with no break in the texture and flow

homogeneous passages maddeningly ambiguous

dense & abstract aesthetic, return to form

emotionlessly transposing world into word.

to make the thought sound more deep than it is.

 

looking to address such battles

of the negligible music; with a narrative

from the timbre of his voice

every story wants every vile human impulse

to be transformed through care; and,

in case you forget who i am, do not

forget the common ground, just plowed

grief isn’t fresh but it’s ongoing

confounds but deepen us

the glimmers of hope deep inside you

grateful, not hateful.

enter the harvest time

.

 

"most of our problems proceed from our inability

to sit quietly in a small room." — pascal.

 

solving one problem by creating other problems is not the way to do things... don't you see?

 

feeling discouraged as well as judgmental, how much overwhelming information would be flitting around the mind? still the plans for the road ahead were always ditched for the earliest fixations of the mind - a way to grapple with un-grappable feelings as well as tendency to crumble in pressure situations. with nothing at stake, the relief-joy moments are delineated'; merry - no - round, there is an unseen hole in this illusory sense of whole and unable to deal with the painful and prosaic realities of life. the relief-wisdom, if at all gained in the process, may never get beyond just being good - becoming a lengthy as well as single monotonous line without a melody.

 

“I buried my head under the darkness of the pillow and pretended it was night. I couldn't see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.” ― Sylvia Plath

 

“Growth in painful. Change is painful. But nothing is as painful as staying stuck somewhere you don’t belong.”

 

in such a state of inconsequential affairs, when one's heart is fettered with memories and when one's heart does not really get moved, the strident hinged door opens up certain promising techniques of the times. the cross is, basically, that the portrait of the soul loses many wholes with frontal light of such techniques. such techniques like mindfulness to the present moment and other quick-fix ways will never fill the void within nor answer a lot of questions about 'right affection'. continuing our discordant chorus, the fulfillment of heart never really happens as one switches between the light and dark moments without much rhyme or reason. after a peak of body-edged joy trying to fill the bottomless ego, there is a rapidly decreasing taste of enjoyment as the senses are blunted to some extent. momentarily stumped and yet to forget the queasy feelings and as an act of coping mechanism, one is pulled in to that same cycle of relief-joy and then feeling rather stung by the pleasure. if it was treasured time, why that became a trash time? why you grew more and more despondent? why ashamed to see what you leave in your wake? inured to stress, as if the side-lined efforts were for nought - the factor by which nothing will multiply and fickleness of eyes never saturated; now, never eager to receive the grace of the Purest who can enlighten the earnest eyes.

 

"a shrug says sorry" and you stay near but elsewhere; and you delude yourself to exist trouble-free in same plane of thoughts but not able to see how the grace can end the suffering created by struggle between truth consciousness and unconsciousness of peace-making pathways. in over-trying to do things in own mind's dominant reaction to difficult situations, you forget to establish the rhythm formed in the pathway charted through fortitude, and a graceful rhythm as being greatly reflected in the Purest Heart.

 

everything the heart needed appears in that moment of belonging to the Heart breathing the truth of devotion, and then recedes as the delusion in own mind also intensifies when crisscrossing the landscapes of momentary belonging is a journey to pass into days of dust. near to the wild heart, with this mindset of giving all-or-nothing and letting time slip in rolls-royce ecstasy, till when can one wait to have the courage for surrendering to the compassionate Truth? and travel through gates of vulnerability before the scorpion tells the truth? is it that when eyes ache, then only it can be seen that the self which resisted baring is going to fail? shouldn't the methods of living life as learned behavior of unawareness and unwanted urges, expose the hollowness in one or another area, till the collective trauma of the profound personal loss is not addressed by going to the source? to see what blesses and sustains us at the source level. it is definitely some grace received to find that inner alignment and rhythm and then asking the right questions.

 

"Days pass when I forget the mystery." — Denise Levertov

 

steeped in comfort, till when can you continue to secure a favorable or transcendent narrative to camouflage unscrupulous deeds? isn't it too taxing to maintain our pretenses with the ugly tedium of explanatory justifications? of commanding cerebral experiences? of disparaging cliches? when will you stop the inflationary use of the compensatory and positive words that are not a stitch in time to save nine? don't you see that these words of suffocating clarity trickle down and gets stuck in your heart like a thorn? when will that understanding happen to see - why you've been protecting yourself, wearing a hat always in style, instead of wholeheartedly working on protecting the truth? don't you know that only the pencil will support your weight without leaving an indelible scar? how will you navigate your own self-doubts and misgivings? are you really interrogating the nature of your fears or just becoming more weaker with the fear of questions? will not, adding here of one more thing, to the list of interfering questions, create more disconnection and disorientation and cast doubt across decades; or are these questions stepping in stones to meet the hurtful part of self? to see how deterioration started by collusion with this gradual process of enticement. how long will you entertain false-hearted guests to your thought process? don't you see that every little comment from them just chips away at your confidence.

 

ventriloquizing of a voice dreaded throughout from an ingrained identity but not from purity of a soul? forced to question when you are ruing the lost time? are these self-obsessed questions another form of resistance - a daily resistance to death (or reluctance to let go) and an embrace of life? or are these tea-time questions, a sign of sugar full of procrastination to indefinite prolongation and beyond? a sign of inveterate tendency to overlook the course of action? can just asking more of such unconsidered questions fill your ravenous soul? soul that is increasingly being alienated from own purpose and true self. would you like when someone quizzes you about your irrecoverable unemployment? ignoring the many ways of associative knowing, life destroyed by silent-natured embarrassing relationships and obliterated by subsequent incidences of missing the deeper and subtler eye to see through such awkward involvements. can you read your personal, intimate book? incapable of deep-reading, eliminating the mystifying features of the study days; alienated and demystified from natural world and natural order to study, you only exclude learning and wonder pathways and become hardened to integrate them. unsure but hopeful, in the end, are these spiritual questions limbering up or just the magnitude of cerebral questions in which you feel cleaving of mind between intimacy and distance for the same concepts seen in limited observation of the mind shining through flashbacks of fragmentary memories; maybe, like Emily since the ancient times, cannot explain with a delicate-as-lace sentences poem:

 

The Lost Thought

 

I felt a cleaving in my mind

As if my brain had split;

I tried to match it, seam by seam,

But could not make them fit.

 

The thought behind I strove to join

Unto the thought before, ,

But sequence ravelled out of reach

Like balls upon a floor.

 

Emily Dickinson (can you see if Emily in you retreated further into herself or emerged out open to big change?) she saw deeply and so could also see that something was missing. unfortunately, she couldn't put her finger on what that was. She definitely did not had a cursory way of looking at grief.

 

imprisoned within the shrinking confines of a conscribed life, to read the questions straight through will further tangle the mind. and it is difficult to read these questions and "difficult" is a different thing from "incomprehensible". the ego has a false belief that everything will cohere somehow or other, because it all comes from you! to take the next right step, something always gets missed, you say with a sinking voice. a voice which asks, "does not the fragmented structure of the thought process echo your mental state? the general tenor of all but querulous...

 

mind to soul and soul to mind, each preaching to the choir and so the honest question was never attempted from the very beginning. only ego massage by seemingly big questions and then nothing. the honest question to ask the self mirror is - how principles once rigidly followed become fluid when it becomes expedient? the golden principles can only be truly lived, right from the start, if one is truthful in love, but not by who feigns love for selfish reasons. please do not have a convenient follow up to these questions with a band-aid to plug a deluge.

 

“when the sky cries, things start to bloom. so, let those tears flow. it's good for you too. all things which greatly hurt me greatly teach me. often, it’s the deepest pain which empowers you to grow into your highest self.” ~ ― karen salmonsohn

 

grief, I’ve learned, is really just love.

it’s all the love you want to give, but cannot.

all that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest.

grief is just love with no place to go.

 

jamie anderson

 

les nuages dans ma tête. going à travers a baffling phase in own life and impossible to act in the moment when thinking diverges into abstractness, it takes extraordinary acts of metamorphosis by fostering qualities of courage and engagement in shaking the self, to get the self looking through after the initial breakthrough - a look for cathartic value in the continuum of life in everyday and of pathways that create better connection to your intermediate stages in journey; bridging through metaphors and similes and the grateful connection to grand continuum. in this act of listening in care, what does being fully present to the moment mean? it is when one brings parts of self together (who had been put up with each other and so had not communicated with each other for long), so that they listen to each other. worth the pain, "i feel so gutted" for the gain of affection; it is then, when one begins to heal and find how the pain hurts so less than subdued grief of regret; and then you listen to your true source in pursuit of the sublime.

 

did you see this as a fallow period which is now copiously bestowed with the ripening is because of trust of 'Eterna-Oski' who is so steadfast and believing? Tears...

 

looking into the sea of your eyes, tears broke through me, through my fears, the way frozen river break open after the arrival of spring. once you find your breakthrough moment, rivers of yearning, rivers of reaching... comes through

 

it is this continuum wholeness where clouds become witness to a graceful sight – leaf joyfully breathes the wind —

 

looking into the eyes of love in the clouds, what is seen, is a beautiful journey of training as an apprentice with alertness and dedication, to achieve the continuum of consciousness, that is observing – with equanimity and not living from behind the positioned ego, that creates barriers to being fully present.

.

 

Meditation 2: returning with wonder. the pitch and purpose of this peaceful reflection is 'spiritual openness' as a source of clarity and compassion, about how we love.

 

"But to say, I know—is there any touch in it?

To be there; to listen; not invade. Another solitude ..."

 

— Jean Valentine

 

being fully present in the moment is never about being in middle of nowhere. meaning of a word is its use in the language coming from the Heart. shapes of preciousness. ton histoire commence par un voyage. must press on for one last battle, gentle warrior of mine, revisiting the arc - not just a point we’ve arrived at but a direction of travel:

 

of truly "seeing" where you belong, the vantage point offered, beyond being an oddball; this seeing in essence, becomes a simple yet generative story of mine, of finding a closure - closure to body-edged drifting of self, along the great tendencies of 'nakara' self who always craved to get the crumbs of fairy-tale joy; such an urge, felt by the untested self; felt without stronger feelings due to heartstrings stretched in every direction in the fleeting moments. interplay of disorder and order as day and night follows in a worn world. steering the strong waves with own mind as rudder, between all the competing voices pulling us here, pushing us there, this vantage point of life offering a steady beacon of light by which you can navigate to your authentic self and devote truly in love.

 

a small bowl

in my hands like the nest

 

/- joseph fasano

 

lumière divine sur toi, this vantage point of life - an attachment formed via wonder of the soul to love the dweller inside the inner garden, two doors away and the shrine eight outer barriers away; bringing the purest and golden transformation of self. la caresse, a guide and a gift, an invitation at the same time into yourself and beyond yourself; whispering woods - this secret, no longer held between shadow and light present in every vanishing page of life. everything unfolds from the center with no boundaries of affection.

 

once a true love is recognized, it takes tremendous courage to make a connection with right affection and completely trust your journey to it, with it. beauty of love that is challenging and comforting at the same time - expanding thoughts to meaning, healing, order, respect, rhythm and timeless calm. compassion you have for those of us who "try" earnestly, humbly and transparently. very taken by this innocence of friendship at its most glorious and by nourishing care, to be lost in contemplation in the grateful wonder of this garden .. following the great footsteps, this homecoming filling the void of the soul at the feelings level, relevant and true - of experiencing 'Eterna Tenderness' of Purest Hearts.

 

a thought under my pillow, glowing in the morning's dark

 

now all the efforts surf on 'finesse et légèreté'/fineness & lightness. performing the poetry of such tenderness together, of nurturing one another, a great joy comes when we re-imagine our world together united as one. nourished wisdom that plants seeds of Tenderness... of beauty and light. the more generously we love, the more blessed we lead our lives and get to flourish. compelling honesty cast like dandelions upon the air of thoughts; with such ease, and such care that only true friendship can do. companionship thought buds toward devotion, blossoming with tender honesty and deeper truths.

 

Dear Heart, do not be stymied by what you consider as mistakes. keep growing in our joy of togetherness.

 

when i'm not thinking about anything else, that’s joy forever. heart is no longer vacant of dreams; yet, never a wish for something more, now, every dream i have, transcends me to same garden of the Heart where I see the Form behind the light. one stays amazed in this magical dream so truthful, and from that moment, the time was enfolded in the act of being fully present to unfold the bundles of conversational joy with a steadfast companion; and now the earthly glow responds with saintliness to blossom the flowers of peace for one and all - a wish, highest of all.

Photograph from Monday's sunrise spectacle. Since I've been working so much in BW lately, I am sharing an essay published in Outdoor Photographer Magazine in 2010:

Enjoy, and Share if you Like!

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Meditations In Black-And-White

A business proposal led to a new avenue of creativity

I recently had a client ask to see some images – Black & White nature photographs for a corporate environment. Since I haven’t made B&W photos at all during my career, except on a rare occasion, I was surprised. However, her simple request led me down a path that was both creative as well as successful in terms of business. I have long been inspired by great B&W photography masters such as Ansel Adams, Edward and Brett Weston, Minor White and Paul Caponigro, which has lead me to try a few conversions over the past years using Photoshop. You never know from where inspiration will come, but this project ignited my passion for B&W and pushed me to expand my photographic repertoire.

Ansel Adams used to proudly declare in his lectures that he had been a commercial photographer for sixty years! He would then explain that his many years of making a living from his photography taught him valuable lessons. During his career, he accepted assignments to make portraits, still life product shots, architectural work and more. He felt that the problem-solving nature of commercial work informed and improved his art in terms of discipline and technique. Practice makes perfect, so they say. My B&W project provides a good example of creative results coming from a practical assignment.

The first step was to prepare and send jpgs to my client for her PowerPoint presentation. I received a list of color images that she found in the many web portfolios on my web site. My assistant John and I compiled a portfolio using the Collections in Adobe Lightroom, which proved very useful for previewing potential images using the Grayscale function part of the Develop mode. I have learned that many color photographs don’t convert well to B&W so by simply clicking on Grayscale, the color is removed and an assessment can be quickly made. Additionally, Grayscale offers sliders that allow adjustments to improve your conversion. Once my B&W portfolio was edited down for my client, we easily made JPGs using the Export function of Lightroom and emailed them to her for her presentation.

A few weeks later, I received an order for seven 30x40 fine art B&W prints! This was great news of course, but now the real work began. Each image had to be fully refined and mastered in Photoshop, then prepared for making the final photographs. Each image file began with the high res original film scan or digital capture. Next, adjustments to each image was made using multiple Adjustment Layers. Some layers were globally applied to the whole image. Depending on each photograph, other layers were applied using local masking. For example, if shadow detail needed improving, the mask would be specific to that area. The use of masks is much like the “old fashion” dodging and burning used when printing film to paper.

The main tool to convert my color images to B&W, was the Black and White adjustment layer (Layer>New Adjustment Layer>Black and White). We have found this to be the most versatile adjustment method. One thing I learned from viewing Ansel Adams’ prints is the value of tonal separation. I worked in his Yosemite gallery for five years, handled and exhibited many of his most famous images. His prints show a fine degree of detail in both shadows and highlights. The whites are never washed out and we can see many gradations of light grays and white. I especially love how his shadow areas show each subtle tone of dark gray and blacks. His shadows are never really black and formless, but show clear shapes and form within them.

It was Ansel’s inspirational prints that guided the B&W processing for this project. Once the images were finished in Photoshop, the printing began. Each file was sized to the final output dimensions, then sharpened for that specific size. The latest inkjet printers do an excellent job of handling B&W in their output. I used my Canon Imageprograf, and I was very pleased with the results. We shipped them off, and the client was pleased too. Job done.

Now for a little Marketing 101 - follow trends, and give clients what they want! Black and white photographs are in demand. I have noticed more and more mention of them in magazines, on commercial web sites selling photographic art, With the success from this one sale, we decided that other clients might find my newly created B&W images useful for their corporate art projects. In order to show them, we decided to put together a whole new portfolio. The fun and creative part of this process was sorted through thirty years of work, searching for images that would survive as strong images when converted. Once the editing was done, we used Lightroom’s Web module to create an online set of B&W landscape and nature images. I then sent the URL to my email client list. If they don’t know what you’ve got, you can’t sell it!

The final step in this creative journey was the making of a ebook entitled Meditations in Monochrome (www.williamneill.com/…/meditations-in-mon…/index.html). I have “published” two previous ebooks, and made them available as an inexpensive downloads from my web site. My apprentice John O’Connor (johnoconnorphoto.com/) produced a beautiful layout in Adobe InDesign and created a high res PDF file. I wrote an essay for the books’ introduction. I selected 52 photographs for this digital portfolio, ranging from classic western landscapes to intimate details of nature. Locations include the coast of New England, the deserts of the Southwest and my backyard in the Sierra Nevada mountains. The selection covers a wide span of my career, with photographs dating from 1982 to many recent digital captures created as recently as 2008.

Becoming a better photographer is about building skills. It is also about following ones’ passions, and pushing oneself creatively. My Meditations project started with a business deal that opened a door that I had wanted to go through for a long time – adding a Black and White portfolio to my collection of images. I hope Ansel would be proud!

1. I, the pure, stainless and infinite Consciousness beyond maya, look upon this body in action like the body of another.

 

2. The mind, the intellect, the senses, etc. are all the play of Consciousness. They are unreal and seem to exist only due to lack of insight.

 

3. Unmoved by adversity, a friend of all the world in prosperity, without ideas of existence and non-existence, I Live free from misery.

 

4. Inactive am I, desireless, clear as the sky, free from hankering, tranquil, formless, everlasting and unmoving.

 

5. I have now clearly understood that the five elements, the three worlds and I myself are pure Consciousness.

 

6. I am above everything ; I am present everywhere ; I am like space; I am that which (really) exists; I am unable to say anything beyond this.

 

7. Let imaginary waves of universe rise or fall in me who am the ocean of infinite Consciousness ; there is no increase or decrease in me.

 

8. How wonderful that in me, the infinite ocean of Consciousness, waves of jivas (individual souls) rise, sport for a while and disappear according to their nature.

 

9. The world which has come into existence on account of my ignorance has dissolved likewise in me. I now directly experience the world as supreme bliss of Consciousness.

 

10. I prostrate to myself who am within all being, the ever free Self abiding as inner consciousness.

 

---

 

Yoga Vasishta Sara - SELECTED VERSES - Meditation on the Self

   

'Formless' by Glen Clothier. 2012© All work is protected. Do not use without permission.

Chuadanga, Bangladesh, 2007.

 

She, the artist.

Her hands work with unprecedented prowess...

Shaping the formless clay into a vital piece of art.

Her advancing age is supposed to make her frail.....

Yet, it only whets her skill.

 

Captured from my village, Chuadanga, Bangladesh. The potter lady with her creations.

 

All rights reserved. Do not use this or any other photo in my photostream, without my permission. If u want to use any of the photos in this stream, send a flickrmail, or mail to monir.micro[at]gmail.com seeking permission.

 

Magelang/Yogyakarta/Central Java/Indonesia (Borobudur is a 9th-century Mahayana Buddhist temple and the world's largest Buddhist temple. The temple consists of nine stacked platforms, six square and three circular, topped by a central dome. It is decorated with 2,672 relief panels and 504 Buddha statues. The central dome is surrounded by 72 Buddha statues, each seated inside a perforated stupa.

 

Built in the 9th century during the reign of the Sailendra Dynasty, the temple design follows Javanese Buddhist architecture, which blends the Indonesian indigenous cult of ancestor worship and the Buddhist concept of attaining Nirvana. The temple demonstrates the influences of Gupta art that reflects India's influence on the region, yet there are enough indigenous scenes and elements incorporated to make Borobudur uniquely Indonesian.

 

The monument is a shrine to the Lord Buddha and a place for Buddhist pilgrimage. The pilgrim journey begins at the base of the monument and follows a path around the monument, ascending to the top through three levels symbolic of Buddhist cosmology: Kāmadhātu (the world of desire), Rupadhatu (the world of forms) and Arupadhatu (the world of formlessness). The monument guides pilgrims through an extensive system of stairways and corridors with 1,460 narrative relief panels on the walls and the balustrades. Borobudur has the largest and most complete ensemble of Buddhist reliefs in the world.

 

Borobudur was constructed in the 9th century and abandoned following the 14th-century decline of Hindu kingdoms in Java and the Javanese conversion to Islam...)

  

Copyright © 2018 by inigolai/Photography.

No part of this picture may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means , on websites, blogs, without prior permission.

This woman has a professional quality lens, yet she's using it formlessly. This is particularly dangerous because two bulls are fighting about 200-feet away. This has the yearlings and young bull excited and they're lumbering around the edges of the herd, just on the other side of her car. Many in the herd were grunting a deep, guttural vocalization.

 

A particularly bad time to be out of your car. Why not shoot out the window, from a little further away.

Nikon D7000 + Tamron SP AF17-50mm F/2.8 XR Di II LD Aspherical IF @f10 SS: 1/160 Iso:100

 

Borobudur, or Barabudur, is a 9th-century Mahayana Buddhist Temple in Magelang, Central Java, Indonesia. The monument consists of six square platforms topped by three circular platforms, and is decorated with 2,672 relief panels and 504 Buddha statues. A main dome, located at the center of the top platform, is surrounded by 72 Buddha statues seated inside a perforated stupa.

 

Built in the 9th century during the reign of the Sailendra Dynasty, the temple's design in Gupta architecture reflects India's influence on the region. It also depicts the gupta style from India and shows influence of Buddhism as well as Hinduism. The monument is both a shrine to the Lord Buddha and a place for Buddhist pilgrimage. The journey for pilgrims begins at the base of the monument and follows a path around the monument and ascends to the top through three levels symbolic of Buddhist cosmology: Kāmadhātu (the world of desire), Rupadhatu (the world of forms) and Arupadhatu (the world of formlessness). The monument guides pilgrims through an extensive system of stairways and corridors with 1,460 narrative relief panels on the walls and the balustrades.

 

Evidence suggest Borobudur was constructed in the 9th century and abandoned following the 14th century decline of Hindu kingdoms in Java, and the Javanese conversion to Islam. Worldwide knowledge of its existence was sparked in 1814 by Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles, then the British ruler of Java, who was advised of its location by native Indonesians. Borobudur has since been preserved through several restorations. The largest restoration project was undertaken between 1975 and 1982 by the Indonesian government and UNESCO, following which the monument was listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Borobudur is still used for pilgrimage; once a year Buddhists in Indonesia celebrate Vesak at the monument, and Borobudur is Indonesia's single most visited tourist attraction.

source: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borobudur

Watch & Listen: Icicle Works - "Whisper to a Scream (Birds Fly)"

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A good friend described this photo as "the sublime as described by Immanuel Kant". Kant wrote that the sublime "is to be found in a formless object" - and I guess this is certainly a formless object!

 

It was as though the shoreline birds taking flight together in an instant were literally blocking the light ...

You must be shapeless, formless, like water. When you pour water in a cup, it becomes the cup. When you pour water in a bottle, it becomes the bottle. When you pour water in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Water can drip and it can crash. Become like water my friend.

― Bruce Lee

This is from an awesome monument in Indonesia called Borobudur. There are about five ways to spell this temple, at least when I spell it. But, you get the general idea.

 

I've re-mastered this one by using the textures from the Textures Tutorial. This one is actually featured in the video. I have a non-textured version of this which is also interesting... and I think I explain in the video that the use of these textures doesn't necessarily make something "better", but what it does do is make something else that is equally satisfying in a different way. So then, at the end, you have two photos, rather than one, each one different and nice in its own way (if that makes sense!).

 

From the blog at www.stuckincustoms.com

 

God is powerful. Gods ability to create form is omni potential.

God could have made you into any shape or size imaginable.

God could have given you the permanent form of what we

call a human body, a dog, a fish, a cube, a sphere, a molecule, a dot or a star.

Or why not the formlessness of an infinite void of universal space.

 

But instead of doing so, God had an even greater idea for your creation.

God wanted you to have the same infinite possibilities as He did.

And so God created your soul to be a formless being with no particular

shape, size or color, but with the potential to take on and experience

any form.

 

Can you see what God did?

Instead of locking you into one single functional form with two legs, two arms,

two eyes and one speaker, God gave you the ability to run on four legs, or

to have four arms, six arms or no arms.

 

God is great.

God wanted your mind to be number one and your form to be number two.

And therefor your existence is Gods primary creation and all physicality,

all planets and all possible life forms are to be considered Gods secondary

creation. Which He made for His primary creation.

 

Of course you enjoy having your human body and you identify yourself

with it and maybe you can not even think of yourself being in another living form.

But I can assure you that a horse enjoy the same control over its four legs

as you do with your two. And a spider has no less control over its eight legs.

The spider experience perfect articulation of each individual limb just as we do.

 

This is true for all lifeforms. Each limb is controlled by will.

You will your hand to move and it moves.

You will your legs to walk and they walk.

You will your eyes to focus on something and instantly they focus.

You will your lips to move and they move.

 

Radiation comes in many forms, some less daunting than others. Helios radiates, daring the flaring wind to blow rings of smoke and misty reflection. Apparently aimless, its avid voiding formless path is often best avoided. Your smile radiates. I long to see it and this is the nucleus of the matter.

View my Java Indonesia set here

Java indonesia set

  

Borobudur, or Barabudur, is a 9th-century Mahayana Buddhist monument in Magelang, Central Java, Indonesia. The monument consists of six square platforms topped by three circular platforms, and is decorated with 2,672 relief panels and 504 Buddha statues.[1] A main dome, located at the center of the top platform, is surrounded by 72 Buddha statues seated inside a perforated stupa.

 

Built in the 9th century during the reign of the Sailendra Dynasty, the temple’s design in Gupta architecture reflects India's influence on the region, yet there are enough indigenous scenes and elements incorporated to make Borobudur uniquely Indonesian.[2][3] The monument is both a shrine to the Lord Buddha and a place for Buddhist pilgrimage. The journey for pilgrims begins at the base of the monument and follows a path around the monument and ascends to the top through three levels symbolic of Buddhist cosmology: Kāmadhātu (the world of desire), Rupadhatu (the world of forms) and Arupadhatu (the world of formlessness). The monument guides pilgrims through an extensive system of stairways and corridors with 1,460 narrative relief panels on the walls and the balustrades.

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia....

 

A happy short trip to indonesia jogja...

I am not a traveling guy, you seldom see oversea photos from my photostream just because i can't really travel due to my personnel health problem. A long trip or long journey will be quite impossible for me.

Last week, i went for a short trip with some friends to Indonesia Yogyakarta to click some photos. Although not much good shot, it was a fantastic pleasant trip.

Photos from the trip coming soon.

 

Please note that all the contents in this photostream is copyrighted and protected under the Digital Millennium Copyright Act and the Copyright Act of Singapore, any usage of the images without permission will face liability for the infringement.

 

For enquiry, drop a mail to fiftymm99@yahoo.com

 

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Digital Art

 

A direct path for the mature seeker

1

"Only isness has isness_obviously.

Therefore; Only isness is.

Therefore; Only isness exists.

Anything else lacks

Real being and is not as real

as it appears to be."

 

2

"Anything you imagine to exist

"out there" does not truly exist in

its own right because only isness

actually is. All form is but an

empty projection and assumption

of the mind. Like a rainbow;

it appears to be there yet it has no

real existence outside the

perceiver."

 

3

"All illusion is a play enabled by

the underlying power of that

which truly is, and created by your

imagination and belief that a thing

has its own existence when in

reality it does not_ for only isness

has actual being. And isness is not

"this or that perception."Isness is

isness alone. A formless, endless

mystery of timeless sentience.

 

4

"That which truly is, is God.

And God is your true Self. It must

be so; for if God_isness_is all that

truly is, and since you know for a

fact that you are, then your own

existence must that-which-is.

Hence your being is inseparable

from the beingness of God

 

5

"This you is Being without

distortion, imagination,

association or alteration. Naked,

conditionless Being. The rest is but

a ghost-like projection resulting

from your forgetfulness of that

basic Self. Ignorance is the result of

ignoring true isness."

 

6

"This grand illusion of experiences

is not right or wrong, in fact it is

perfect since its true nature must

be God; but to imagine that any

perception has an independent,

separate existence is delusion and

the cause of all sorrows. The

Oneness discovered deep in that

pure isness is the ultimate solution

to all perceived problems."

 

7

"Follow this logic to its

experimental end, which is the

all-pervasive here and now as it

truly is, with full-hearted attention

_practice it_ and your soul's

eternal seeking shall find

fulfilment in its very own Self

After all. Self-Abidance results."

 

8

"This liberating logic is not for the

drama-queens and narcissists who

strongly identify themselves with

a body, its insecurity-bound

personhood and set of

circumstances. Freedom is not for

those who like to complain"

 

9

"Liberation requires a mature

desire and profound intelligence,

which equals a strong attention

span, an ability to grok and

persevere in the subtle, and an

ability to maintain a certain degree

of silence of self. You need to

suspend the flaring up of the

personal self long enough

to awaken to this deeper truth

Pause yourself to know yourself."

 

10

"With earnest practice you will

become rapidly more intelligent.

Your readiness to see reality right

through the illusion shall increase

with your daily commitment to be

one with that naked issness beneath

the ceaseless movements of your

imagination."

 

Bentinho Massaro

I was taken to Boroburdur by post-graduate students of Gadjah Mada University, Yogyakarta.

 

The Borobudur Temple Compounds is one of the greatest Buddhist monuments in the world, and was built in the 8th and 9th centuries AD during the reign of the Syailendra Dynasty. The monument is located in the Kedu Valley, in the southern part of Central Java, at the centre of the island of Java, Indonesia.

 

The main temple is a stupa built in three tiers around a hill which was a natural centre: a pyramidal base with five concentric square terraces, the trunk of a cone with three circular platforms and, at the top, a monumental stupa. Around the circular platforms are 72 openwork stupas, each containing a statue of the Buddha.

 

The vertical division of Borobudur Temple into base, body, and superstructure perfectly accords with the conception of the Universe in Buddhist cosmology. It is believed that the universe is divided into three superimposing spheres, kamadhatu, rupadhatu, and arupadhatu, representing respectively the sphere of desires where we are bound to our desires, the sphere of forms where we abandon our desires but are still bound to name and form, and the sphere of formlessness where there is no longer either name or form. At Borobudur Temple, the kamadhatu is represented by the base, the rupadhatu by the five square terraces, and the arupadhatu by the three circular platforms as well as the big stupa. The whole structure shows a unique blending of the very central ideas of ancestor worship, related to the idea of a terraced mountain, combined with the Buddhist concept of attaining Nirvana.

 

The Temple should also be seen as an outstanding dynastic monument of the Syailendra Dynasty that ruled Java for around five centuries until the 10th century.

 

The temple was used as a Buddhist temple from its construction until sometime between the 10th and 15th centuries when it was abandoned. Since its re-discovery in the 19th century and restoration in the 20th century, it has been brought back into a Buddhist archaeological site.

 

It certainly has outstanding, cultural value.

Empty your mind, be formless. Shapeless, like water. If you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle and it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Now, water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend.

What a hell of a walk after 36 holes of golf, but well worth it!!

 

NO HDR. Used ND grad filter with a sky blue Grad.

   

Below text quoted from www.geographia.com/northern-ireland/ukiant01.htm

 

"The lunar landscape of the Giant's Causeway, lurking below the gaunt sea wall where the land ends, must have struck wonder into the hearts of the ancient Irish.

 

* 'When the world was moulded and fashioned out of formless chaos, this must have been the bit over - a remnant of chaos.' - Thackeray

 

Like the early people of North Antrim, Thackeray was very impressed by the strangeness of this place. Like other sophisticated visitors he had read that the Causeway is a geological freak, caused by volcanic eruptions, and cooling lava.

 

The ancients knew differently: clearly this was giants' work and, more particularly, the work of the giant Finn McCool, the Ulster warrior and commander of the king of Ireland's armies.

 

Finn could pick thorns out of his heels while running and was capable of amazing feats of strength. Once, during a fight with a Scottish giant, he scooped up a huge clod of earth and flung it at his fleeing rival. The clod fell into the sea and turned into the Isle of Man. The hole it left filled up with water and became Lough Neagh.

 

Finn was said to inhabit a draughty Antrim headland:

 

* 'He lived most happy and content, Obeyed no law and paid no rent.'

 

When he fell in love with a lady giant on Staffa, an island in the Hebrides, he built this wide commodious highway to bring her across to Ulster.

 

The first historical accounts of the Causeway started appearing in the late 17th century. The Bishop of Derry made one of the first recorded visits in 1692 and the Chevalier De La Tocnaye, who had the good sense to take his umbrella, galloped up to the cliff edge in 1797 when both he and his horse were enraptured by the view.

 

Before the famous coast road was built in the 1830s visitors complained about the ruggedness of the trip. But there was one shining compensation on the journey: the town where tourists made their last stop before the final push to the Causeway was Bushmills. Ever since 1608 saddle-sore travellers had been revived with magnums of the King's whiskey at the world's oldest (legal) distillery, which is still in business.

 

The Causeway proper is a mass of basalt columns packed tightly together. The tops of the columns form stepping stones that lead from the cliff foot and disappear under the sea. Altogether there are 40,000 of these stone columns, mostly hexagonal but some with four, five, seven and eight sides. The tallest are about 40 feet high, and the solidified lava in the cliffs is 90 feet thick in places.

 

A fine circular walk will take you down to the Grand Causeway, past amphitheatres of stone columns and formations with fanciful names like the Honeycomb, the Wishing Well, the Giant's Granny and the King and his Nobles, past Port na Spaniagh where the Spanish Armada ship Girona foundered, past wooden staircase to Benbane Head and back along the cliff top.

 

Further down the coast, the stunning Carrick-a-rede rope bridge spans a gaping chasm between the coast and a small island used by fishermen. The terrifying eighty foot drop can be crossed via the swinging bridge - not for the faint hearted!