View allAll Photos Tagged TIMESPACE
Pythagorean Harmony in Time & Space and The Visual Language of Echoes in the Archipelagos ...
If You Cannot Verbalise your Thinking,You Can Visualise it ...
Colligation ...
♥ So Many Thanks for your visits & comments my Flickr friiends ♥
The Perception of Proportions,Depth & Three-dimensionality through any of the Senses ...
Pythagorean Harmony in Time & Space and The Visual Language of Echoes in the Archipelagos ...
If You Cannot Verbalise your Thinking,You Can Visualise it ...
Colligation ...
♥ So Many Thanks for your visits & comments my Flickr friiends ♥
Cicko's first year on Earth, after being left stranded inside the shoebox near our house, approximately 2 days after being given birth.
It seems he is enjoying his first days of his life, which he really do. Even though he doesn't know where his mother is, or can't comprehend what the presence of mother brings, nor does he resent or blame anyone responsible for his shoebox thing, he is still happy little boy.
These were insightful times, watching him grow and learn about life, without someone to learn from, except couple of human beings, different from his kind.
His instincts, and how God have created him, were always on spot. No problems there: catching what cat is supposed to catch, running, playing, games, toys, friskiness, naughtiness, restlessness...
The only problem I am seeing is with the relationship with other cats, that come to our house from time to time. Cicko does not know how to handle that yet. He haven't had the chance to learn from anyone, and in the pressence of them, he does know how to make a stand... Usually, he rather leaves, or give his best sleeping spots to the temporary newcomers of his kind.
Also, when other cats are present, he is having a problem with eating... He needs peace to eat. He is constantly looking around while other csts are in viscinity... seems like he can't put his guard down.
He is almost one year old by now, and we are looking forward on his progress.
Not to mention all the medical trouble we had with him. On this particular day when this photo was taken, on this same spot, he was throwing up, at least 6-7 times, and his belly was inflated,his eyes like he's dying, face sad, and he was constantly finding place to hide, to sleep...like he was finding place to sleep forever. Eyes were telling us everything.
But tjen the sun came onto his life, amd we couldn't believe what a shift in the mood occured. My God, he became the happiest little lad in the timespace of half a day.
Happy birthday, Cicko.
Pythagorean Harmony in Time & Space and The Visual Language of Echoes in the Archipelagos ...
If You Cannot Verbalise your Thinking,You Can Visualise it ...
Colligation ...
♥ So Many Thanks for your visits & comments my Flickr friends ♥
✨Thanks for the explore #190 position 💫
Out of my 14 explore appearances, this is by far at the highest rank, beating #194 b&w Branches flic.kr/p/2oJzzGs from 2023.
Cicko's first year on Earth, after being left stranded inside the shoebox near our house, approximately 2 days after being given birth.
It seems he is enjoying his first days of his life, which he really do. Even though he doesn't know where his mother is, or can't comprehend what the presence of mother brings, nor does he resent or blame anyone responsible for his shoebox thing, he is still happy little boy.
These were insightful times, watching him grow and learn about life, without someone to learn from, except couple of human beings, different from his kind.
His instincts, and how God have created him, were always on spot. No problems there: catching what cat is supposed to catch, running, playing, games, toys, friskiness, naughtiness, restlessness...
The only problem I am seeing is with the relationship with other cats, that come to our house from time to time. Cicko does not know how to handle that yet. He haven't had the chance to learn from anyone, and in the pressence of them, he does know how to make a stand... Usually, he rather leaves, or give his best sleeping spots to the temporary newcomers of his kind.
Also, when other cats are present, he is having a problem with eating... He needs peace to eat. He is constantly looking around while other csts are in viscinity... seems like he can't put his guard down.
He is almost one year old by now, and we are looking forward on his progress.
Not to mention all the medical trouble we had with him. On this particular day when this photo was taken, on this same spot, he was throwing up, at least 6-7 times, and his belly was inflated,his eyes like he's dying, face sad, and he was constantly finding place to hide, to sleep...like he was finding place to sleep forever. Eyes were telling us everything.
But tjen the sun came onto his life, amd we couldn't believe what a shift in the mood occured. My God, he became the happiest little lad in the timespace of half a day.
Happy birthday, Cicko.
Cicko's first year on Earth, after being left stranded inside the shoebox near our house, approximately 2 days after being given birth.
It seems he is enjoying his first days of his life, which he really do. Even though he doesn't know where his mother is, or can't comprehend what the presence of mother brings, nor does he resent or blame anyone responsible for his shoebox thing, he is still happy little boy.
These were insightful times, watching him grow and learn about life, without someone to learn from, except couple of human beings, different from his kind.
His instincts, and how God have created him, were always on spot. No problems there: catching what cat is supposed to catch, running, playing, games, toys, friskiness, naughtiness, restlessness...
The only problem I am seeing is with the relationship with other cats, that come to our house from time to time. Cicko does not know how to handle that yet. He haven't had the chance to learn from anyone, and in the pressence of them, he does know how to make a stand... Usually, he rather leaves, or give his best sleeping spots to the temporary newcomers of his kind.
Also, when other cats are present, he is having a problem with eating... He needs peace to eat. He is constantly looking around while other csts are in viscinity... seems like he can't put his guard down.
He is almost one year old by now, and we are looking forward on his progress.
Not to mention all the medical trouble we had with him. On this particular day when this photo was taken, on this same spot, he was throwing up, at least 6-7 times, and his belly was inflated,his eyes like he's dying, face sad, and he was constantly finding place to hide, to sleep...like he was finding place to sleep forever. Eyes were telling us everything.
But tjen the sun came onto his life, amd we couldn't believe what a shift in the mood occured. My God, he became the happiest little lad in the timespace of half a day.
Happy birthday, Cicko.
Cicko's first year on Earth, after being left stranded inside the shoebox near our house, approximately 2 days after being given birth.
It seems he is enjoying his first days of his life, which he really do. Even though he doesn't know where his mother is, or can't comprehend what the presence of mother brings, nor does he resent or blame anyone responsible for his shoebox thing, he is still happy little boy.
These were insightful times, watching him grow and learn about life, without someone to learn from, except couple of human beings, different from his kind.
His instincts, and how God have created him, were always on spot. No problems there: catching what cat is supposed to catch, running, playing, games, toys, friskiness, naughtiness, restlessness...
The only problem I am seeing is with the relationship with other cats, that come to our house from time to time. Cicko does not know how to handle that yet. He haven't had the chance to learn from anyone, and in the pressence of them, he does know how to make a stand... Usually, he rather leaves, or give his best sleeping spots to the temporary newcomers of his kind.
Also, when other cats are present, he is having a problem with eating... He needs peace to eat. He is constantly looking around while other csts are in viscinity... seems like he can't put his guard down.
He is almost one year old by now, and we are looking forward on his progress.
Not to mention all the medical trouble we had with him. On this particular day when this photo was taken, on this same spot, he was throwing up, at least 6-7 times, and his belly was inflated,his eyes like he's dying, face sad, and he was constantly finding place to hide, to sleep...like he was finding place to sleep forever. Eyes were telling us everything.
But tjen the sun came onto his life, amd we couldn't believe what a shift in the mood occured. My God, he became the happiest little lad in the timespace of half a day.
Happy birthday, Cicko.
All images & textures are my own .
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Thanks for the visit, favs, comments, invites and awards. *.*..Much appreciated ..!!!
Cicko's first year on Earth, after being left stranded inside the shoebox near our house, approximately 2 days after being given birth.
It seems he is enjoying his first days of his life, which he really do. Even though he doesn't know where his mother is, or can't comprehend what the presence of mother brings, nor does he resent or blame anyone responsible for his shoebox thing, he is still happy little boy.
These were insightful times, watching him grow and learn about life, without someone to learn from, except couple of human beings, different from his kind.
His instincts, and how God have created him, were always on spot. No problems there: catching what cat is supposed to catch, running, playing, games, toys, friskiness, naughtiness, restlessness...
The only problem I am seeing is with the relationship with other cats, that come to our house from time to time. Cicko does not know how to handle that yet. He haven't had the chance to learn from anyone, and in the pressence of them, he does know how to make a stand... Usually, he rather leaves, or give his best sleeping spots to the temporary newcomers of his kind.
Also, when other cats are present, he is having a problem with eating... He needs peace to eat. He is constantly looking around while other csts are in viscinity... seems like he can't put his guard down.
He is almost one year old by now, and we are looking forward on his progress.
Not to mention all the medical trouble we had with him. On this particular day when this photo was taken, on this same spot, he was throwing up, at least 6-7 times, and his belly was inflated,his eyes like he's dying, face sad, and he was constantly finding place to hide, to sleep...like he was finding place to sleep forever. Eyes were telling us everything.
But tjen the sun came onto his life, amd we couldn't believe what a shift in the mood occured. My God, he became the happiest little lad in the timespace of half a day.
Happy birthday, Cicko.
Cicko's first year on Earth, after being left stranded inside the shoebox near our house, approximately 2 days after being given birth.
It seems he is enjoying his first days of his life, which he really do. Even though he doesn't know where his mother is, or can't comprehend what the presence of mother brings, nor does he resent or blame anyone responsible for his shoebox thing, he is still happy little boy.
These were insightful times, watching him grow and learn about life, without someone to learn from, except couple of human beings, different from his kind.
His instincts, and how God have created him, were always on spot. No problems there: catching what cat is supposed to catch, running, playing, games, toys, friskiness, naughtiness, restlessness...
The only problem I am seeing is with the relationship with other cats, that come to our house from time to time. Cicko does not know how to handle that yet. He haven't had the chance to learn from anyone, and in the pressence of them, he does know how to make a stand... Usually, he rather leaves, or give his best sleeping spots to the temporary newcomers of his kind.
Also, when other cats are present, he is having a problem with eating... He needs peace to eat. He is constantly looking around while other csts are in viscinity... seems like he can't put his guard down.
He is almost one year old by now, and we are looking forward on his progress.
Not to mention all the medical trouble we had with him. On this particular day when this photo was taken, on this same spot, he was throwing up, at least 6-7 times, and his belly was inflated,his eyes like he's dying, face sad, and he was constantly finding place to hide, to sleep...like he was finding place to sleep forever. Eyes were telling us everything.
But tjen the sun came onto his life, amd we couldn't believe what a shift in the mood occured. My God, he became the happiest little lad in the timespace of half a day.
Happy birthday, Cicko.
Florence central station (Santa Maria Novella). As I explained in the first upload in this series, the architects of this station (Gruppo Toscano) had the shrinking of space-time, due to the modern railway system, in mind. If we could travel by almost the speed of light, such shrinking would also involve significant shrinking of time--time goes much faster: a 'time warp'. The phenomenon is symbolized in this shot: the figure walks from a (stupendously preserved!) 1930's modernist environment straight into a contemporary commercialized space.
abandoned radio factory.
the first digital attempt. shot in spring 2012 with friend's panasonic DMC-FZ20, when my film camera was already unfunctional. this model didn't have option of shooting raw and the image quality was quite unsatisfying. converting to b&w and desizing helped a bit.
from the description of the workshop:
"Vilnius Sound Locations is a site specific workshop which deals with phenomenon of spatial memory of the place.
As in many cultures believed, each activity including thought resonates in space leaving a trace. Some traces sustain for seconds other for longer time and some seem never to leave a place. These strong spatial resonances play significant role in how we act in particular places. They also shape phisical architecture of spaces. By acting with open mind, deep concentration on presence and awareness of surrounding we are exposing ourselves to the flow of spatial memory, thus becoming both mediums of the past actions and true actors of the real moment.
A group of participants in given time explored indoor spaces using a set of simple tools like mallets, bows or anything found on location to discover sounds of the place. Listening and playing builds up personal relation to location and group. These acts of sound making manifest conscious presence and involvement into particular moment of timespace. There were no certain rules or premises on what and how should be done. All ideas arised exectly on sites. Buildings that house in space with its memories as a large instruments sounded for themselves.
This workshop practice is not intended to develop any form of postmodern art. It has to be visioned rather as meditation that opens perceptive capacities and blends inner and outer spaces into one, with care as deep as each one devotes."
some sounds from those four days are used in this recording:
soundcloud.com/user-antirealist/antireality-beekeeping-gh...
Each day my concerns grow as to how things are framed and presented - be it within a social, political, personal or universal context.
What I mean to say is, that with the advent of digital instant technology, each time we record and view the reality around us - it has an immediate effect on our views and understanding of that which is captured - unlike previous forms of recordings and communications, which had time lags, to allow for refection and integration.
This is not necessarily a good or bad thing, just something which seems to have inherent within it implications - we perhaps have not yet come to fully understand.
How does one move outside the boxed effects of TV, computers, paintings, photographs... in not only relationship to their physical reality - its flat 2D x 3D illusion - but also how it frames our psychological, emotional and spiritual worldviews.
In this series, I began to take seemingly random shots of the pavement while walking. Within this supposed randomness, I began to notice that a story – an event - had taken place referenced by the imprints and articles left behind. More importantly, the story was still in progress. It was due to this that it got me thinking about this boxing in effect – of how we tend to frame and manipulate things to fit within our own personal worldview.
Of course, it could be argued that I also framed these shots – and that would be true. However, it is somehow in how these elements – within the frame - dictate the context – the idea - of the image that go beyond its obvious content, which began to fascinate me.
Wolfi's Werke sind unergründlich!
Auf dem Blumenmond gibt es viele Lavaströme.
Die Dimensionen sind ineinander verschachtelt.
Raumzeit ist dort Zeitraum.
Die kleinen Wolfis genießen dieses Schauspiel jedes Mal.
Dazu gibt es gebratenen Schweinebauch.
MEIN Werk ist unerfassbar!
Wolfi's works are unfathomable!
There are many lava flows on the Flower Moon.
The dimensions are interlocked.
Spacetime is timespace there.
The little Wolfis enjoy this spectacle every time.
They have fried pork belly to go with it.
MY work is incomprehensible!
Every soul comes to the sun
Carried on angel’s wings to human birth
Born of love or born of hate
Each one is heaven sent to human fate
Dream
Little girl, dream
Dream
Little boy, dream
Dream
In joy and pain each one will grow
For wisdom is so much more than what we know
And every child will find their way
Of living the whole life story day by day
Dream
Little girl, dream
Dream
Little boy, dream
listen.grooveshark.com/#/s/Time+and+Space+feat+Lou+Rhodes...
. . . listening to the whispering tulips
not so long ago . . in a far away land :)
~ i miss you little miss ❤
2012 ~ When the sky turns to a permanent pink/purple ...It will happen...and we must be ready~
It is going to be very colorful Jacqui ! ~~~~ :-D
Gosport, Hampshire on a cold winter night
On the left is the Seward Tower apartment block, and on the right is Harbour Tower.
In the centre of the image is Gosport's Millennium Timespace. The spire of Holy Trinity church can also be seen.
abandoned radio factory. boxes from popular soviet filterless cigarettes glued on the wall by worker from the past.
the first digital attempt. shot in spring 2012 with friend's panasonic DMC-FZ20, when my film camera was already unfunctional. this model didn't have option of shooting raw and the image quality was quite unsatisfying. converting to b&w and desizing helped a bit.
from the description of the workshop:
"Vilnius Sound Locations is a site specific workshop which deals with phenomenon of spatial memory of the place.
As in many cultures believed, each activity including thought resonates in space leaving a trace. Some traces sustain for seconds other for longer time and some seem never to leave a place. These strong spatial resonances play significant role in how we act in particular places. They also shape phisical architecture of spaces. By acting with open mind, deep concentration on presence and awareness of surrounding we are exposing ourselves to the flow of spatial memory, thus becoming both mediums of the past actions and true actors of the real moment.
A group of participants in given time explored indoor spaces using a set of simple tools like mallets, bows or anything found on location to discover sounds of the place. Listening and playing builds up personal relation to location and group. These acts of sound making manifest conscious presence and involvement into particular moment of timespace. There were no certain rules or premises on what and how should be done. All ideas arised exectly on sites. Buildings that house in space with its memories as a large instruments sounded for themselves.
This workshop practice is not intended to develop any form of postmodern art. It has to be visioned rather as meditation that opens perceptive capacities and blends inner and outer spaces into one, with care as deep as each one devotes."
some sounds from those four days are used in this recording:
soundcloud.com/user-antirealist/antireality-beekeeping-gh...
Explore, May 4, 2008
Homeless and forlorn
in Hollywood, he was sitting
at a busstop on the south side
of Hollywood Boulevard just
east of La Brea, west of Orange -
and fumbling with a cigarette.
He accepted my donation
silently, and when asked
if I could take his photo
he winked his consent,
and when I lifted the camera
to my eye, he looked off like
this - and then in the other
direction - looking far but without
moving his head as if frozen
there - and I noticed his nose
is all messed up and his
mouth - whether from a cleft
lip or some accident -
is askew. And this just
a block from where and when
Sean "Puffy" Combs was getting
a star on Hollywood Boulevard
with some other stars
in attendance
and cheering masses of
people - and this ever close
proximity of wealth and poverty -
of the blessed and the cursed-
is again there for me
to witness
and record.
View On Black, or View my most interesting stream ON BLACK!
The clouds are simply wonderful during the sunset time. I don't think I did a good job capturing it, but spending time there appreciating is equally pleasing! It's nice to be back... lol!
歡迎點閱我最新的文章「出發吧，攝影去！」，或是我的部落格 光影、色彩、我，關於攝影二三事！
___________________________________________________
~溫哥華, 英屬哥倫比亞省~
John Lawson Park, West Vancouver, Canada
- ISO 200, F16, 120sec,16mm
- Canon 5D Mark II with EF 16-35mm f/2.8 L lens
- Sunset @6.39pm (262º) / Shot @ 7.04pm
- Low Tide 2.3m @10.19pm, Water Level 3.5m @7pm / 3.0m @8pm
© copyright 2011 Hsiang Wei Chao
.|| This image may not be used for any purposes without the expressed, written permission of the photographer.
Let me take an easy stroll, enjoy the fresh air, and find my favorite spot of the day to watch the colour change at nightfall...before I head back to the City and catch up the real world...!!
Please View On Black for better details...
___________________________________________________
- ISO 200, F13, 880 sec, 17mm
- Canon 5D Mark II with EF 16-35mm f/2.8 L lens
- Sunset @4.15pm / Shot @ 5.07pm
- High Tide 4.4m @4.37pm
- Water Level 4.2m @5.00pm/4.0m @6.00pm
I tried, but a howling north wind says to no avail...where does my timespace go? (Img0149_DM200810_223_1_flkr.jpg) © All rights reserved.
When people experience a ghost are they seeing the dead? Or are they seeing through a thin spot in the time-space continuum?
Software: Photoshop CS5, Photomatix, Nik Viveza, Topaz Adjust, Topaz Detail, Topaz DeNoise 5, Topaz ReMask
Sunlight is about to break through in a misty morning... I'd love to take a stroll or rest on the bench, and enjoy the light change of the sky!
Please View On Black if you have some time...
VIEW MY STREAM ON BLACK if you have more time... :-)
___________________________________________________
~溫哥華, 英屬哥倫比亞省~
Stanley Park, Vancouver, Canada
- ISO 100, F16, 1/5 sec, 16mm
- Canon 5D Mark II with EF 16-35mm f/2.8 L lens
- Sunrise @8.07am / Shot @ 9.13am
This was far and away the most difficult image that I have attempted so far. I'm not 100% happy with the final result, but I used a technique that I have never tried before and it was extremely difficult to get right. Actually, if I didn't have to post every day, I would probably would have re-shot this one. I'm still obsessed with the idea of timespace right now, so this kind of goes along with that.
Sorry for not posting over the last few days. I was really under the weather, and I quite literally did nothing but slept and went to work. I am so happy to be making images again though. It really has become a part of me, and I feel very strange when I can't make an image.
I work late tomorrow and then I have to go in at 6am on Sunday and Monday, so the next couple days are going to be difficult. I will probably just keep it really simple. Have an awesome weekend!
A late afternoon spent on the waterfront... how quiet and comfortable!! :-)
___________________________________________________
- ISO 100, F16, 460 sec, 17mm
- Canon 5D Mark II with EF 16-35mm f/2.8 L lens
- Sunset @4.15pm / Shot @ 4.42pm
- High Tide 4.3m @4.37pm
- Water Level 4.2m @5.00pm/4.0m @6.00pm
Today I attended a lecture on the theory of relativity, explained by Professor Einstein himself. The gala event was highly attended, as Herr Professor was rumored to have died in 1955. Recent disturbances in the quantum superstring flux are now known to have been caused by Herr Professor's non-linear travels. His equations were remarkably easy to understand, as he has accumulated a much better grasp on what he referred to as "the whole shebang." After the tea, we all played at dice.
To Infinity and Beyond: This Is the Afterlife ~
Turning inside out, the young shaman falls though a long swirling tunnel formed of his inverted self, his unbodied mouth and eyes agape in a primal rush toward extinction.
He accelerates t
hrough a tightly wound vortex that shifts and bends to accommodate his course, always centred in the swirling tube which never touches his falling, disembodied perspective. The tunnel is made of light, and of his own bloodstream, and of all the memories and unremembered details of materiality and personality that made up his life – yet not merely ‘his’ life.
Every human, fish, bird, animal, insect, cell and blood corpuscle that has ever lived is there with him, all at once – the dying shaman can feel their bright fear and ecstasy pouring through him as they all rush toward an unseen destination around the curving, translucent bends of the primal vortex. Even though every being dies alone – no matter if a multitude of witnesses is present – the moment of death itself is one great screaming orgasm experienced simultaneously by every one, every single thing that has ever lived – all our eyes and mouths and ganglia agape at the same simultaneous culmination of our material existence.
The tunnel is an eternally vivid living record of past events and future dreams, all memories and visions embroidered into the seamless fabric of its swirl – and Ram’yana’s private past and the panoply of his personal memories are displayed most prominently to him, brightly livid episodes which emerge from the tubular walls as he passes. His strongest experiences – the most impressive ones, that imprinted themselves most brightly into the palimpsest of his being – leap out at him in high relief as he turns and twists and falls and flies, a singular eye of consciousness accelerating toward the endless end of the convoluted time tunnel that’s leading him home.
As the world we experience slips past us at the periphery of our sensoria, an ongoing tunnel vision moves with us at the extremity of our perceptions, whether dying, dead or alive. Journeying out of the physical plane, outside the material matrix of the world, Ram’yana is beyond time and the ken of time-bound beings; as he leaves four dimensional Timespace and approaches the speed of light everything twists into a tunnel which lengthens fore and aft.
He sees his grandfather and grandmother, Mickey Mouse and Pluto, all the dogs and cats and mice and goldfish that shared his boyhood years, the smells of his houses and the flavours of his lovers. He hears the laughter of his kindergarten friends, their bright faces visible all around him singing ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’, while pretty little Abigail jumps over a spinning rope twirled by Gina and Hannah, her long blonde pink-ribboned pigtails rotating around the sides of her head.
He holds his mother’s huge hand, grasping her finger through the wooden bars of his bassinet while she sings to him in the sultry evening air. He witnesses the expression of semi-resigned shock on his father’s face during the Cuban missile crisis and again when Kennedy was shot, sees the squashed remains of mosquitoes on the wall above his crib, watches the strange lights moving in the sky while all the neighbours point and speculate, sinks again with a collapsing sandbank on Bondi Beach, swept away with hundreds of panicking faces being pulled out to the deep sea along with him, while hundreds of man-eating sharks are driven off by the beating, splashing oars of desperate lifesavers.
He sees his mother’s eyes for the first time all over again and screams at the hard slap on his bottom as he hangs before Doctor Traub’s thick-lensed glasses in the bright, antiseptic birth theatre. His paternal grandmother smiles at him as she leans over and obscures his view of the magnificent giant yellow flowers of the magnolia tree while she wheels him in his pram; he can still smell the cloying fragrance of the flowers. His mother’s mother screams as he holds a dingo puppy up for her inspection and she tumbles over backward in her bedroom, breaking her hip while his eight year old eyes wash the scene away with tears that burn through the illusory years.
The Cat in the Hat and the Mighty Thor; the smell and Hungarian accent of alcoholic Uncle Tony, putting him off beer for years with his first taste of bitter ale at the age of six, and the bright laughing face of his babysitter Wendy by the blazing wood fire; the spray of blood when he cut his wrist falling onto a broken bottle at the age of three and the dizzying view from the emergency surgeon’s high private balcony; the first time he kissed a girl and the first time he dreamed of kissing a girl, all bound up together; flying through the sky in a propeller-driven passenger plane, watching circular rainbows following him in the clouds below.
White sulphur-crested cockatoos and sparrows circle his yard while kookaburras laugh in the gum trees; the first terrifying time his father holds him up high in the air to place him in the fork of a tree; his first night after he ran away from home, reclining on a beanbag in a Kings Cross commune reading Philip Jose Farmer’s pertinent To Your Scattered Bodies Go – everything is there, each scene and sensation embedded within and revealing a multitude of others. Everything. His dying mind seeks out everything he’s ever experienced, seeking a way back into the womb of living as he falls through something else entirely, riding a rollercoaster beyond the imagination of the most topologically tormented tycoon.
As Ram’yana falls he flashes before the eyes of his whole life – as others fall with him, many others, all others, sharing the time tunnel with his self-judging awareness. In the eternity of the Fall everything hidden or repressed is exposed in the Divine Light of clear sight and each being is their own Judge, emerging from the blindfold of their material existence to weigh their own soul on the ineradicable scales of justice and mercy. Conscience is the soul and the soul is immortally, inescapably honest with itself when released from the fetters of self-deceit and delusion.
Beyond time, at the singular moment of the great primal rush that is the birth and death canal leading from one world to the next, everyone experiences the same thingat the same time. We all come and go together in a mind-blowing orgasm; dreaming or screaming, laughing or crying, all emotion quails and pales before the rush of unstoppable motion that dwarfs any and every trivial concern.
No thought of gods or devils, life or death in the primal scream toward the Light at the end of the tunnel – the only thing that matters is holding onto your headless hat and the wordless regrets felt toward all the people, animals and conscious entities you ever knew deeply, or ever loved – and still love, deeply, tenderly, with a perspective of forgiveness, understanding and compassion never vouchsafed to your flesh-bound, in-coiled, emotion-embroiled mortal personality.
Ram is every human who ever lived and died, every fish ever caught in a current to swirl down into lightless depths beyond its control, every bird caught in a whirlwind that flings it to flinders, every animal diving for cover into cloaking vegetation from an inescapable predator, every individual blood corpuscle flinging itself on the way to the crushing pressure at the heart of its warm, pulsating cosmos. As he pours through the end of the world the tunnel twists and whirls, always hiding the point of it all, the point of no return, the heart of the matter, the source of every thing and being – and his mind expands to simultaneously see his spiraling course as a single thread in a vast interwoven image.
The tunnel is one thread among myriad drab and colourful strands in a great uncharitable tapestry, an inextricable part of its intricate pattern. The dying shaman follows the course of his life along its undulating strand and sees that his thread rises and falls above and beneath uncountable other interlocking threads, a spectrum of hues and textures in the enormously unfathomable tapestry. As his thread rises above another he is ‘conscious’, while the thread it occludes is ‘dreaming’; where his strand is covered by another thread, his mortal body sleeps and dreams while the other strand lives their waking life. Everyone and everything is there, all at once, simultaneously, lain out and displayed before him with no need for the flow of time to elucidate the infinite multiplicity of being.
Turn the tapestry around. The thought comes unbidden and the cloth reverses itself around him in a loopy topological twist; the implicately shared complementary nature of consciousness becomes apparent to his blown mind as he sees himself dreaming the lives of others, and others dreaming through his waking eyes and flesh. The intermingling pathways wind around the curving delineaments of their divine co-creation, which turns into itself like a Moebius strip until the beginning of one thread seamlessly winds into the end of another. The falcon is the hunter is the arrow is the feather is the truth. All is alive and whole; nothing is partial or frayed.
The tapestry is vast, but he’s able to follow his individuated thread through the colourful patterns and sees that the enormous conglomeration of dreams and lives is incomplete – not completed by the path of the single thread that is his experience of existence, rising from the tapestry to enter him as him. At the same timeless moment, Ram’yana approaches the plexus of light that is the destiny of all nations, women and men – the future and past of all that are born to fall along with him, minds blown in the blinding light of the immortal portal.
An immaculate blazing white-hot sun glows at the end of the tunnel. He can see it ever more clearly through the transparing walls of the vortex, thinning and fading in the face of the overwhelmingly brilliant source and core of existence. Ram sees the arcs of a trans-finite net spreading outward from the source, sees an infinitude of other vortices approaching its plexus from more angles than he can wrap his bodiless head around. They pass through each other in ways that defy and tease his mortal three-dimensionally entrained mind – but the arrangement makes subtle sense to a higher form of his being, trembling on the edge of an unchartable metamorphosis into something so much greater as to be intrinsically unimaginable. Simultaneously, on another level, the individual personality of the shaman approaches its ultimate rebirth and transformation in his flight toward the blinding light of the central sun.
The source of all is the hot, bright core and central axis of the centreless multiverse, the eternal end of every tunnel; the maw of a transdimensional creature about to swallow him up, the Infinite Light of God and his own silent heart gently glowing in timeless repose. He flies around a final bend in the dissolving tunnel, surging toward the arcane net that veils the core – which flares into him as the tunnel widens, opening into the final straight.
Ram’yana flashes toward the weave that’s flung to the ends of the cosmos, spreading himself to embrace the Light – and as he reaches it, he encounters the safety net. A web-like sieve is strung across the open maw of All, and as Ram’yana passes though it a great, resounding BOUMMB fills the boundless universe – the sound of one heartbeat, as loud as the boom that eternally creates the unborn, ever-living universe; the sound of Shiva’s eye opening and of one hand clapping.
Before your time, he hears and feels, not ready, not yet – unfinished – and he feels himself shrinking toward an infinitesimally small spot in the multitude of multiverses – back into the weave, where plan net X marks the spot where all things meet in his current-bound primate life.
Boumb… Boom…. Boom!
That’s why I’m here, writing this to you ‘now’ – the same ‘now’ that you are reading it in, really. I and eye remember it all vividly, not as something to slowly forget or avoid in the unfocused mind’s eye, but as an ongoing experience that is with me now, always, dynamically imprinted. It is with me as it is with you, when you close your eyes and open your memory to see truly through the waters of forgetfulness, to the infinite waters of eternal life.
Life and death, sensory wakefulness and supersensory dreaming are the same thing, appearing as the warp and weft of the reversible tapestry of existence. And everyone, each of us, is the whole tapestry, inextricably interwoven – everyone is everyone, and that’s about as close as this constraining corsetry of early third millennium Inglesh needs to get at this point in infinite time – xcept, perhaps, for the most important thing of all -
Every one you truly touch and are touched by, in every way, leaves the deepest and most prominent engravings in your heart, mind and soul. What we do unto others is what we do to ourselves – and other living beings are more than mere memory mirrors or handy usable tools. That’s what draws us back for more, and more again – the need to do better by our selves – over and over, until we do it right. Then we get another choice – or another chance to ride the carousel Wheel of Fortune again, if we so choose.
The multiple layers of ascendant consciousness are a self-filtering system of co-evolution – a system of slowly developing focus and perspective that leads our awareness to other dimensions, already inextricably interwoven with the relatively ‘familiar’ bounds of our largely unknown but ever-present reality. There’s no dim-witted hierarchy of order-givers or sword-wielding guardians barring the doors of higher perception – the gateway to Heaven on Earth. There’s just you – and me, and all of us, together. We all have our time to shine, and that time is always now.
Yet Death is not Dying. In the Bardo spaces between thy flowering carnations of existence, all the bright religious hopes and turgid superstitious terrors await the untrained monkey mind in its ongoing fall toward dissolution or reintegration. The Bardo Realms are entire worlds or pocket universes as apparently solid as the full-blown reality ye imagine around thee, right where thou art sitting, right now. How do ye know thou art alive, not dreaming this experience, right here and now? Do ye think that’s air you’re breathing?
A true story
By Ram Ayana @ hermetic.blog.com/2012/03/13/to-infinity-and-beyond-this-...
Another walk at the beach around sunset time... Just love how the broken sky coincides with the rocks! :-)
Please View On Black for better details...
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- ISO 100, F20, 10 sec, 116mm
- Canon 5D Mark II with EF 70-200mm f/4.0 L lens
- Sunset @4.31pm / Shot @ 4.50pm
- Low Tide 2.1m @8.14pm
- Water Level 3.5m @4.00pm/3.1m @5.00pm