©2011 Danise Codekas
“I put my heart and my soul into my work, and have lost my mind in the process.”-Van Gogh
Seems like there is some disconnecting going on between our ideas of who we are and who we think we are. At least I keep slipping into an alternative universe, more than not, these past few weeks.
Change, when it begins, grows in volume, as random pieces of information arrive faster and louder, when higher consciousness is listened to acutely, and I release that which no longer serves.
The music is clearer. Songs play on airwaves that speak exactly to me and what I am feeling, and unable to express, until the song finishes playing.
A connection has been cut, and the new forms of communication are stuck inside my head, and now the wires and modalities are coming into my periphery.
“What I expect from any work of art is that it surprises me, that it violates my customary valuations of things and offers me other, unexpected ones.” – Jean Dubuffet
The dreams we all have are flipped over again and again. Some of my fears will never come to pass, even though those some fears are experienced by people around me. What is the worst that can happen to you?
I am learning to not to ask that question. Seems futile when the things that are after me, chasing me down alleys and tsunamis in my mind, are being handled in excruciating detail, moment by moment.
Many bindings are twisting away into the cosmos, like the Kutscher-Moore marriage, Café Gratitude debacle, loved one’s health challenges, life as I planned it. Hmm, life as I planned it sounds funny. None of us know what comes the next breath, do we?
“The artist is not a different kind of person, but every person is a different kind of artist”-Eric Gill
Christmas brings a lot of thought in with its power, doesn’t it? Happiness, loneliness, anxiety, forgiveness. Super powers and large bank accounts needed to release us from the darkness on the edges of our vision and memoirs. Love bandied about, as greed and terror afflict many on land, air and sea.
Meeting new people happens a lot, too. That’s the sparkle for me, about this time in my life. Many new people who connect with me for a short, intense time. The clues to the coming together fascinates me daily. Why now?
My path changes daily. Plans tossed aside as the To-Do list goes askew in coffee houses, park benches and standing in the middle of a friggin’ cold Puget Sound beach as stars rise and the BSNF railcars wind along the tracks, from San Diego to Seattle.
Wiping out all lapping wave sounds and night bird calls on the beach, for a few minutes. Enough to refocus me to thoughts of leaving for anywhere those tracks traverse.
A time when we take a step, and hesitate, before proceeding is upon us.
The danger of failing, screwing up, paying higher prices with our life’s energy, than previously experienced, causes a hesitation, a momentary breath before engaging. 
“What I am seeking is not the real and not the unreal but rather the unconscious, the mystery of the instinctive in the human race.” –Modigliani
It seems the cosmos has inserted an extra moment of time, between the last movement, thought, touch and the next, over the past few months.
Is it me? Yes. Is it you, also, responding to the web of time, actions and serendipitous clues that arrive for us all.
The only thing that is able to bring me out of this Kafka-esque Friday night is the Art Basel art fair in Miami, this weekend. Art always always stops me from spending too much time thinking about myself.
“The artist is a receptacle for emotions that come from all over the place; from the sky, from the earth, from a scrap of paper, from a passing shape, from a spider’s web.” –Picasso
Two Face Woman by Picasso
The art and critics smash together at this Hanukkah-Christmas tide conflagration, at a time when the year is ending, and you/me need to be sucked out of 11 months of boring patterns.
A scent of a new possible, in your/mine life grabs the gut/ the third chakra, and alerts us that change is where we are headed, maybe toward one another, maybe not.
“O great creator of being, grant us one more hour to perform our art and perfect our lives.” – Bob Marley
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