Saturday, January 10, 2009

there is magic

I thought I'd posted this painting before but perhaps not. It's called 'Sundancer' because I've always thought it would be wonderful to paint music. Rumi painted music with words:

I died from minerality and became vegetable;
And from vegetativeness I died and became animal.
I died from animality and became man.
Then why fear disappearance through death?
Next time I shall die
Bringing forth wings and feathers like angels;
After that, soaring higher than angels -
What you cannot imagine,
I shall become that.

~
I painted this picture for my mother who died five years ago..
and posted today because the last image disturbs me.

17 comments:

  1. //What you cannot imagine,
    I shall become that//

    That is really good. Very,really good. Almost as good as your art.
    I think maybe that is why this is always a good place.

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  2. I love this painting. And have been a fan of Rumi for a long time. But now I need to reread.

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  3. Beautiful painting. It is so filled with joy and exuberance. If Rumi was still alive it would have inspired him to write a poem, I feel sure.

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  4. Susan, I love this image. The flowers, the light, the DANCE in that female figure! An extreme, glorious sort of dance. And the borders around your paintings are unique - I can't recall seeing anything like them before. This is one my favorites of all the paintings I've swept through your blog to see.

    And I'm with OKJimm - that's an incredible line by Rumi. We'd all like to become that - perhaps we shall - I hope so.

    I discovered Rumi when I found my first album by The Weepies. The title is a Rumi quote, "Say I am you." It was a double treasure.

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  5. jimm - That's a truth stated by more than a few of those much wiser than I but Rumi put it beautifully.

    It's always nice seeing you've been by.

    utah - It's getting to the point I may have to start painting again since I'm running short of old ones. I haven't done many recently because I don't like having to break concentration and then refocus. I'm sure you understand.

    belette - Instead, Rumi inspired me. He got his direct from the Source and all I can do is follow the light he left behind.

    steve - That may be the best border of any of the paintings I still have (or have photos of). It really was painted for my mother who was a very wise woman.

    I studied Advaita for a long time before I took up a Buddhist practice and have kept the essential teachings. Only I AM.. but I'm still a 40 watt bulb that can't take the power surge and like you, hope for the day.

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  6. That painting reminds me of my granddaughter, Elizabeth. She's such a free spirit who loves everyone. I don't think I've ever heard her say a bad word about anyone. I'll show this pic to her and see what she thinks.

    Thanks, and as always, a great post!

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  7. me - I'm glad you like it and that you have such a dear child in your life.

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  8. There is something divine about your painting and the Rumi poem. I'm not sure what you call this work, or if you ever name your paintings, but I'd like to call it Ascension.

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  9. spartacus - You know, in truth I hate naming my paintings just as I prefer not signing them. For practical purposes I eventually do both but my experience is that anything good about them comes by grace and not any inherent talent of mine other than the ability to sit still :-)

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  10. susan, firstly, I am full of gratitude for your lovely comment on my post today~

    second but firstly again, this painting is exquisite! your mother must have been a wonderfully majestic woman to inspire this work! I am envious... and grateful you shared it today...

    ah my favorite...Rumi...I have been in love with him since the first day I encountered him, really not so long ago! Perhaps I simply did not see before and since I have also found Hafiz, who seems perhaps a bit more joyous...

    I am sorry the previous image is disturbing to you and can see why.....I am hoping you will not continue to suffer over it and see your triumph and the Light you carry that shines upon us all...

    many blessings to you...

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  11. that's joyous! hope she was able to see it? :D

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  12. I keep coming back to look at this painting. After so many rather gloomy days in a row, I was so glad to see the sun the other day. Viscerally so.

    This painting gives me that same feeling.

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  13. linda - My mother was indeed a very majestic woman and put up with a lot she didn't deserve from yours truly. Ours was at times a tempestuous relationship and, although she couldn't understand my need to always be on the move and never closer than 900 miles away, she always supported whatever I decided to do.

    The Church of England was always enough for her but she never went to any service. I didn't either but along the way I discovered other teachers and learned about mysticism - something Christianity hasn't favored since they got rid of the Gnostics. That was when I first discovered Rumi and began to realize that all poetry that mentions the beloved isn't necessarily talking about attraction between people.

    Thanks for your lovely comment. Anbu.

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  14. wolf - It belonged to her :-)

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  15. lisa - When it rains here and clouds over for months at a time, I remember flying (in planes:-)) above the clouds where the sun always shines.

    It does for you too.

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  16. su - there just aren't words. this is what being inside the music is... exactly. you've done it again.

    mother & daughter relationships are impossible to explain in any rational way... i watch my daughter being the 'adult' and treating me condescending kindness because i'm so out of touch with things.... and i just love her for her kindness. she'll never live to regret it, as i do the way i treated my own mother.

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  17. gfid - I'm glad to know it had its intended effect for you. How sweet of you to tell me so.

    I'm sure your daughter will have many reasons for her tender memories of you.

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