what is left

This morning’s painting session is brought to you by the double helix weaving its way through all existence, connecting, dividing, finding itself over and over. Remembering the divinity, playing hide and seek as our true nature.

It is brought to you by a tightness in the solar plexus, a desire to fix and resolve what is here. A desire to know, to land, to avoid this freefall of truly surrendering as this life force that moves this body, writes these words, puts paint on the canvas.

As awareness drops in to the tightness, the desire to find secure footing anywhere dissolves, unfurls its grip and what is left? Nothing, no thing, no one at all. No feet to land, no place to land, nothing to resolve. Pure energy of chaos and unknowing. And even those words are too much, too dense, to solid to describe what breathes each breath. what is left when the story dies, falls in on itself from its own heaviness. Ahhhh…..

Today’s painting session is brought to you by what is left when the story falls in on itself from its own heaviness:

love.

what is left.jpg