A Mystery of Creativity

Does anyone suppose for a minute even that the commercial system for making use of creative works of art was the design of an author of such a work? Of course not. An artist is an artist only because he or she cannot help finding beauty from time to time. The happening is not planned…must not be…and all artists know that an essential requirement is that there be nobody, and I mean nobody, present when it happens. So, who is the owner of such a work?

The distribution of art commercially is the invention of business. They smelled money. That is why. The artist is bound to be trivialized by the sale of the work the ultimate source of it all dishonored.  To the business operator that means nothing. To the artist it is critical. The author of any work of art knows that the art is a gift from something holy and so much is not holy. The author sought no following, was not even present, and will shudder at the proposal that he or she be singled out as a leader who needs followers. Knowing the act of following him or her to be absurd, and twisted, the author of a holy work must refuse such a designation and encourage any who see the value of the work to make their own art. Only in this manner can humanity awaken to really be what we are and bring forth together a  beautiful interaction as a way of living and love each other for it. Does anybody care? Anybody listening? 

Finally, let me add that the fact an artist likes to eat like we all do is no reason to think  creativity must be treated as being for sale. The Universe is not a store. Fuck that. It is a house of wonder. Anything that is good must come from a universal understanding and not be dictated by the few. The very existence of a creative work of art shouts to the heavens “we are more than we are pretending to be!” Imagine for a moment a flying formation of wild, free swans soaring across a sky and take notice that all will be given a swan’s rich life complete with food and shelter just because and for no other reason. It was designed so. Were you not so well designed as a swan?

I watched a documentary recently on the life of Mister Rogers of public television fame and heard comments from angry political activists and those who criticize our fears that he was an evil man for giving his life to telling as many children as he could, “I love you just the way you are”. They told it that he made a generation of lazy loafers who do not think they must work hard to earn such respect. I cried. Every swan who cracks out from an egg is given just that. I do not think for you, you must decide, but for me that is what I count on to be my inalienable birthright.

I sit now in a comfortable, friendly coffee shop somewhere as I enjoy this writing I do naturally where I am treated as worthy and even more than that though I have in dollars far less than is going to provide me with anything but poverty they say and I do not feel poor. To the contrary, I feel rich beyond all counting and comparing. 

The creative is where It’s at, Man. 

 WE ALL WANT A FAIR TRIAL

The way to deal with the fact that in the world of man you cannot get a fair trial (deal) is not to fight to reform trials (deals) inside a society. That way, conflict, is why we cannot get a fair deal in the first place. The way is to so live one’s life that you exist within a dimension unknown to societies. Do you know of such a way? Will you examine into the question for yourself? You might begin with looking to see what a dealer is and decide to eliminate gambling and by that is meant all games of chance. Hint: Life is a sure bet. Am I wrong? Look for yourself. It is your life I refer to after all. Second Hint: The questions will answer themselves if you ask sincerely.

 All the world promises is no good for you. Every attempt at power in the world is actually a surrender of vitality. Do not agree or disagree with this. Look at it seriously for yourself and find out. 

How much vitality have I to spare? After all is taken from me where will I be? Will I shrivel enough to vanish? How puny am I willing to become? It’s not dark yet, but…I heard a man who was a very famous athlete say “I had become nothing, and my life for me was meaningless. All I had done was never enough.” Pete Maravich

I am reminded of the alpinist mountain climber who was asked, “Why didn’t you take a rope along?” And he replied, “Those are just stupid questions." That must be my answer to any question about, “If I renounce the corrupt world what will I do to protect myself and my family?"

And by renunciation I am not at all meaning that I am to abandon the world and live in a cave. I mean to live here in the world man has created and not be of it.

 WHY  DO CANNONBALLS FLY?

Why do cannonballs fly?

That children may symbolically die?

Can they ever be banned, my Friend?

Is it a possibility that war might end? 

never again to begin?

I’d have to say not- unless the will to live symbolically be first forsaken. That is saying a lot.

That a chance beyond words be taken.

A search will reveal a symbolic life is chosen by those who are fearful and a further look will clearly show that never has there been nor will there ever be a drop of security inside a symbol. All of them are fake. Flags wave by the strength of the wind and the answer in the wind is where wisdom begins. All who choose a pretend life, symbolically, must die the same symbolic way. War with its terror not Heaven is the ultimate destination of a symbolic life. Do you not see it has to be that way?

Can a man even recognize a symbolic act anymore when he sees one? Look, if humans needed a symbolic leader, recognized by a select group, life would be pointless. It would mean in order to escape a horrible, inevitable consequence every human born will have to give up on having a life of their own and follow a prescribed life of symbolic order described by rituals and symbols handed out by human voices who have always an undisclosed motive to control you.* Their true face is well hidden. Meaning you have no life at all. So, no life at all had already accomplished all a symbol is worth before you came to be. Such a life loses vitality and withers. God is bored to tears. 

Now, for a wonderful discovery.  Words are symbols. Each individual life, naked of words, has its meaning. Each has as much meaning as the meaning of any other that cannot be erased by the use of words. Or, correspondingly, every child born is a sacred world unto itself. I know that because my own life showed me that for me nothing symbolic will do. It has to be real for me. Actually lived, life is vital. It fulfills. Totally.

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• Do you not see that organized causes and all their minions are but packs of tricksters and thieves offering to take from you everything they can steal? Learn for yourself to trace these things back to their source and to expose the flimflam for yourself. It is your life after all is said and done.

A NEW HUMAN

If time were not all over my ass I’d be okay.  I’d be free. Lonesome would mean nothing. So, is there a way for me to be free of time? That is a good question. 

Time is thought. Thought takes memory and experiences and cooks up time. Time exists in the outer world all right but no time is there inward except by thinking it up. This means to me we can let the weather come and go and the water flow to the sea knowing we are inside a cave of innocence nothing to control. In that little insight are miracles. More energy than can be imagined is there. A clear mind is there. Such a person is unstoppable. 

 HOW HUMANITY CHANGES

If it’s humans that make up humanity how can humanity change until the humans do? My job is to change this one human I am. Not anybody’s job to change the world. No one who has tried has made a difference.  It gets worse. Because it’s humans that make up humanity. A surprising thing is that when I change myself the world changes for me. One way I see it is that when I let the world be in the sense I am in it but not of it, it returns the favor, not by choice. I have lived a creative existence for over thirty years. What I mean by that is some power beyond description takes an interest in what I am doing as I keep my mind open controlling nothing. It is not easy to control nothing. It requires a great and serious concentration to see the confused mind we all share for what it is and what it is not. Seeing that, one will fall in love with a new way of life. In this world I am of there is a beauty that has no opposite so control is obsolete. If I control nothing I have nothing to lose. Having nothing to lose I have no secrets to conceal. Being so vulnerable I overcome all that is resistant. Being soft I conquer all the is hard. 

 LITTLE DO I KNOW

So, as I see it, most people live everyday rating a false symbol above the truth. From that approach what can we expect to be life’s response? People complain about the weather…with each other. Who do we think we are talking to? Can it be hot as Hell weather has its own secret, or obvious, purpose? Is the answer in the question itself then? Look in there with me. I came to teach you what to pray for. That is what I hear the weather say. What did you hear? Love sent me? I’ll be damned!

I’ll tell one. I fell in love recently with a woman cashiering in a shop. Our eyes met. In a timeless moment there was the unusual. That is what I call it to fall in love. Not lust. Love. Here is the most important part I have to tell. What I fear is she did not fall as I did. She saw nothing unusual and had no timeless moment she shared with me and knew it. Get it? So strong is that fear it makes me fear the truth so much I grab a symbol, no, many symbols to chase after. I actually think they are more reliable than the moment as it happened to me. I crush that moment like crushing a bug under my foot each time I do. If I were that moment I’d give up on me. It has not yet. Yet. 

I mess around with escapes from the moment rather than give my whole being to the moment. If I were that moment I’d give up on me. She’s just a cashier. She’s much younger than me. She wants someone who holds out promises for a happy future. We all know those images. In a second the true moment is cast aside and replaced by a preferred future goal and not a now that just happened. The moment was so pure it held no opposite so from where do the opposites come? My conditioned mind? I’ll be damned!

Now, the real loss. Symbolically, I jumped to “I need to marry this woman”, or, in some other way, attach to her. That will give security. How crazy is that? I know already that marriage, an image, holds no security at all. Been there. Done that. Here I am back again…here I go down that wrong road…again. I realize I do this with jobs, business, children, friends, enemies, and all the rest of the symbols given to me for a solid, secure  life. 

That moment I shared with a woman at her job held out no promise whatsoever. It was complete and it grabbed me. What for? Is the answer in the question again? Look there with me. For all I know she could be someone who knows somebody who knows somebody else who knows another who has a cure for toe fungus. Little do I know. Important words to live by. It is true. Her eyes spoke to my eyes and told me “I know you as you are and have known you always”.  When I am still I am aware that there is no bottom to that pure message. It goes nowhere. Had no beginning and has no end. I will call it sacred. Trust I will in it in place of all the world’s images for the remainder of my days. That moment happened like anything happens. I await more. In the truth of who I am now, ignoring a need to become something, I totally end symbolic living.