SELFIE AS EQUINE ASS

A few weeks ago I made the decision to put the false out of my life, to stop paying attention to politicians and their absence of concern for we the people except as the enemy to destroy to get out of the way. I see on the corporate news how severely another country is criticized for arresting people in political demonstrations. Yet, here at home, corporate press pays no mind to American citizens arrested for political demonstrations, pepper spray squirted into their eyes with intent to destroy the individual, most often a woman when they do that. I see so much hatred for women in the politicians that it makes me question why I didn't see earlier how far a very large percentage of men look down on women and want to harm them. Maybe it's because I'm not of that mind and pay no attention to it. I can't stop them or change them, nor would I want to, but I can let them go their way and I'll go mine. It finally came to me that I am wasting more attention on them than they are worth. My attention is my power, and I decided to withdraw my power from them, take it back. It used to churn my guts to see a picture of supreme parrot Ted Cruz for his ignorance so profound that even as a brain-dead robot he cannot possibly believe any of what he says publicly. I came to see that feeling revulsion for him is giving him attention too. I see his picture or some headline of another inanity from him that makes Sarah Palin look a PhD in quantum physics and I feel revulsion. They are being used for their ignorance to appeal to the people of third grade comprehension. Think tank strategy. It works. But I don't want it in my head. They can all go take a walk.

 

marino marini

 

One day I told myself this is it--no more. I hear bits of news now, though I've stopped being concerned about any of it. I see quips on facebook nearly every day, something, somebody telling me I need to "get angry." An article will be introduced, "If this doesn't make you angry, nothing will." I say no every time I see one. Whenever I've taken the bait and read the article, the only thing that makes me angry is that I took the bait. To get angry over something I have no say in the matter will only lead to frustration, suppressing the anger and falling into depression. For John Boner and Mitch McConnell? I think not. I can't get angry about orphans with AIDS in Africa. I'm sympathetic, would love to help them, but I'm an American living in poverty, meaning I have nothing left over to give to at least a million mournful causes, not even one. I can't change anything in the political arena. I'm not a corporation that can make laws at will. I can't take a Senator to lunch at the club and slip a roll of hundred dollar bills into his pocket. If I went into the coffee shop and one of them was in there, I'd turn around and go back out the door. So why do I pay attention to them, to like or dislike? I would never shake hands with one, would never get close enough to one to touch hands. So why do I give them my attention that is my own? I started to see that putting them out of my mind will leave room for something else. Same day I made the decision, I was invited by Ruth to the Daily Creative Practice group on facebook. Several artists show what we're doing, get feedback, give feedback, enjoy meeting new people. Since tapping into this online group I've noticed rather significantly that my inner light is coming on, like raising venetian blinds on a sunny day.

 

marino marini

 

Looking at what the others are doing in the Daily Creative Practice group, connecting with them, making my own contributions, getting feedback, enjoying the ones I've become acquainted with by way of comment boxes. People I could see in a shopping center and never suspect they were doing some very nice explorations in a variety of art forms. I've been engaged with them long enough by now that I'm getting a feel for the art forms of the different ones, a feel for what they're doing. My appreciation grows every day. Earlier today in town, I had several places to go and visited with one or more people I saw at every stop, sometimes briefly, sometimes with a little time. Went into Farmer's Hardware for bird seed and found a mineral block for the four-leggeds. I was hoping Marsha would be there and she was. We talk about equines, donkeys and horses. She knows them well, passes to me valuable information on taking care of them and knowing them. I remembered a dream from the night while we were talking and told it. It amounted to something like a three second video on youtube. The back end of a reddish brown horse kind of jumping and bucking, alone next to the mailbox. It's neck and head were white and gray with black spots. Marsha suggested I attempt to analyze it to see what it is. A tall order, indeed. I'll make a brief go at it. First, I think it is a reference to a print by Marino Marini I posted here a couple days ago of two parts of a horse, the back end and the neck and head. That was all I saw of this dream horse. The back end was the color of earth that all comes from and returns to, even Barbie. The head and neck the colors of duality, black and white. The head the seat of the mind where duality resides. The back end of the horse might be pre-duality, pre-forebrain. The self that is the physical body, the horse's earth-colored back end. The self that is the mind, the black and white head. The horse's one move was a backwards kick like a donkey, but awkward like it had never tried this move before.

 

marino marini

 

I'm guessing the subconscious was seeing the Marini horse in the print and it surfaced in a dream in color and black & white. The horse in the print is in motion too. I've an idea my appreciation retained the image and the subconscious mind played with it in unconscious photoshop. I've looked at Marini's image with much admiration and suppose mind retained it and imagined it into life as a horse in motion, the gesture Marini's image caught. Back end colored like a horse, front end colored like a dog. The head and neck tame, the back end wild. An image of the human condition. Duality within duality. As for what it had to say to me, I am the human condition too. It even seems like a trick a donkey would play on me, or a trick mind would play too. Remaking Marini's horse. Like Duchamp's Nude Descending the Staircase is Cubism in motion, the dream was Marini's print of the horse in motion. I don't feel like the dream is something like a tarot reading, just an image, a remake. The horse appeared on the place where I feed the crows in the morning. It was a spirited horse in the way Jenny is a spirited donkey. Maybe it was telling me I'm a horse's ass. That would be difficult to argue against. It might have been saying: You think you're somebody big and spiritual, but it's all in your head; the rest of you is ass. Now I feel like we're getting somewhere. If I were asked by a judge in court under oath if I'm a horse's ass, I'd have to say yes. It can be proven in court; to say no would be perjury. I'm going to let it rest there. I feel like that's either it or close. Thanks, Marsha. That was an insightful assignment. Another good day's adventure focusing my attention on home, on my world, the people in my world, the people who are my world. It's so much better for the heart than dwelling in the false.    

 

marino marini

 

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OTHER AND SELF

marino marini

We're in a time of being manipulated into division over caring and not caring. All my life the people who go by conservatives, who used to be called reactionaries and hawks, have looked down on the progressives, the doves, the peaceniks. It's like the heat is turned up and the parts in the stew are swirling in the pot, the bottom rising to the top and the top going to the bottom. In our democracy where we are declared created equal as the foundation of our law, the present illustrates the movement cut loose by the Reagan Revolution of belief that one man's ignorance is the equal of another man's knowledge. It's frightful that the political party representing half the population, the below average half, believes education is misleading religiously and politically. The half of the population that sometimes entertains rational thought is largely overwhelmed by aggression of the ignorant obsessed with abortion, pussy, racism, in other words, smokescreen. Everywhere I go I hear somebody making a declaration that starts with "This country." It's all mental generalizations categorizing the unknown.

 

marino marini

 

 

It has become amusing to hear the varieties of the lists that follow this country. It's like a collective wave is going through USA that seems like self-examination, but turns out to be figuring out what's wrong and pointing the finger of blame. Blame the other while three fingers point back at self. We're picking it apart relentlessly, even mindlessly albeit by way of mentation. The trend coming into the new century is surrealist slayings in random locations all over the country. By surrealist I mean in the time of Surrealism in Paris between world wars one and two. One of the surrealists declared the ultimate surrealist act would be to carry a pistol into a crowd and shoot someone randomly. The other surrealists did not take to his idea and soon after put him out of the group. They were creators, artists, not killers. Love was the surrealist theme. Killing did not file well with love. The so-called ultimate surrealist act is now common news in television world where fantasy is reality. Somebody with advanced degrees in psychology, a guy not long out of high school, a guy working at a shipyard. Before the surprise mass shootings were the post office shootings by frustrated employees let go and denied their pensions.

 

marino marini

 

 

It's easy to say it's an expression of disregard unto contempt for others. Killing anyone who is present with no personal reason is an obvious expression of contempt, the most obvious. Looking at the lists of comments after almost any kind of article online, often the rudest, most contemptuous language is used by somebody who doesn't even know who it is on the receiving end, the other. Disregard for others is from ego and the Western attitude toward self in relation to others: me first, others last. The people committing these  outrageous acts for television news show absence of regard for other as a self. No empathy. Throughout my lifetime, experiences in this world trained me away from empathy until the time the Light revealed itself to me. Once I've seen it, I cannot live as though I had not. It's only then that empathy became important. In the time of developing my ego, the time before my understanding, empathy wasn't even a word I knew. I don't mean to sound like a preacher who tells about himself as the worst sinner who drank, played cards and danced, until Jesus turned him away from his evil ways. Not that at all for me. I wasn't living an evil life. I was just trying to make my own light and it never worked.

 

marino marini

 

 

On this side of the divide of empathy / non-empathy, I can see that somebody who has watched people killing on tv every day of his life since a baby can act without empathy. The other is the same as a mushroom. So much contempt for the other indicates three fingers pointing back at self. Self-loathing appears to be an epidemic of this time of the center not holding. The people who commit these slayings most often kill themselves. The guy in Aurora, Colorado, who did not kill himself is a mystery to me, something like Bradley Manning who released a Pandora's box of US government secrets knowing he'd be in maximum security prison for life, no parole. You don't do something like that not knowing what is next. I believe he wanted prison. That's not a psychic insight. It's how it appears to me going by what I've seen about him. The Colorado shooter evidently wanted to live the rest of his life in torment. I don't understand these people, because I don't understand anymore the absence of empathy. I don't believe it's widespread as these psycho actions make it seem. I don't believe these isolated incidents of zero empathy tell anything about the rest of us.

 

marino marini

 

 

I see the news, hear the talk, read articles and books, hear interviews, and I see the people in the world I live in. We're not anything like the generalizations and categorizations we're pigeon-holed by. We're under immense stress as a culture, stress factor kept up by television that tells us relentlessly we're not good enough. It's the weakest link in the chain that snaps. Everybody I know has strength of character that could never allow themselves to sink to that self-centered a way of life. That kind of self-centered behavior is particular to the individual. Each of us has our own karmic history that is particular to self, same as personality, fingerprints and horoscope. In the rainbow of human experience we range from the lowest down dirty chickenshit emeffer from hell to the most gracious flow of helpful kindness in an uplifting spirit. We run the scale of everything between these poles in what we call duality. Most of us waver in the middle somewhere. A swing to the right is balanced by a swing to the left, back and forth, the pendulum of time. I live in a world of wonderful people who would lend a hand before they'd take from behind your back. Empathy is slow to leave mountain culture, despite several generations of television stripping away empathic values from traditional beliefs. Yes, the end is near when the false values are cleared from our traditional beliefs to make way for the new. The beginning is next. That's the part I'm looking to. The day after the last day is the first new day. The last day has to happen to let the new day come in.   

 

marino marini

 

 

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DONKEY FRIEND

horse and rider by marino marini

 



Went to the meadow today to take Jack a couple of carrots. He heard the clanging chain on the metal gate, walked a little bit toward me, curious, ears up, and then at the point I guess to be about a hundred feet, which could be anywhere between fifty and a hundred and fifty. At this distance I see the sparkle in his eye when he recognizes me. Today he charged me before I had the gate latched. He set out in a wild gallop, head extended all the way forward, mouth open, squealing and braying. I was seeing a living image of a work by Italian sculptor Marino Marini, who made horse images, often with the horse's head extended forward or upward. I saw Jack a Marini horse burst into life. It really was a mild rush seeing Jack as a Marini sculpture come to life suddenly and charge me in a playful gallop on the verge of  breaking into dance. The bray started with a squeal that went louder, then into a full bray, hee-haw, two long syllables. It was a beautiful expression of joy. I hadn't even finished fastening the gate when I let the latch go and turned to receive Jack. It felt a little odd to be standing expectantly in front of an African Wild Ass bearing down in full gallop and full bray, mouth open, lips curled back, teeth showing, hee-haw. The rush I felt was humility and joy. I saw clear as anything can be seen that I am important to Jack. The wide open spontaneous expression of joy when he recognized me sent a wave of humility over my soul.

 

 

 

It was like a dog I lived with after I'd been gone for two weeks. So excited to be touched it can't stop squirming and jumping enough to be touched. What a sight it was seeing a donkey head pointed straight forward and lowered toward the ground like a dog about to attack. If I had walked into a field with a donkey I didn't know and this happened, I would not have had a chance to get back out the gate. For one thing, he was fast. He had purpose. He stopped in front of me with a dance and did the sound equines make fluttering their lips. Overwhelmed by seeing that I am now Jack's friend from Jack's point of view as well as mine, I saw a friendship like with a dog, and reminded myself never forget that we now have a bond as friends. I know in advance that I will never be betrayed by this friend, unlike with human friends. And being a human, fallible in the department of loyalty, I noted to myself that I must never forget this moment, never forget that Jack is now my friend. He is not stock. I never understood people who could buy and sell dogs. Somebody offers you a good price for your hunting dog, you sell it and buy another, train it into a good dog and sell it. I can't do that. I've seen books on how to train dogs, esp the ones by the monks purported to be so good, and I wouldn't do any of it to one of my dogs. I love my dogs. I can't treat them like stock. I don't require obedience, yet my dogs have obeyed to the letter. I can't do things to them that are about dominance and submission. I don't want submission from my friends. I want them to be themselves. The connection I make with my pets is love. I love them, they love me. They want to please me, so I don't have to train them. I want to please them, so they don't have to train me.

 

 

With every one of my dogs and cats that have lived out their lives with me and are buried outside my windows, I remember the moment of their first expression of love. It's a sparkle in the eyes, a smile few can see, visible joy. It's the same as I feel when I see them. Donkey Jack is responding to my love for him. I'm good to him. I don't treat him like stock. I take him a treat every day, carrots to crunch on, call him my friend when I talk to him. He's Jack when I'm calling him, and he's Friend talking to him. I tell him I am happy he's here, I like having Donkey Jack for my friend. I talk to him in sentences with certainty he understands my meaning through telepathy, how the four-leggeds communicate with each other. When I talk, he reads the images in my mind of what I'm talking about. I'm guessing it's about like the Chinese language, images. I know he doesn't understand the words except for words he hears over and over like Jack, friend, donkey, love. I tell him I love him and want to give him a good life here on my meadow. While he was doing his little quick-step dance in front of me, his nose went to my face, we touched nose to nose, I put my hands on the sides of his neck and put my forehead to his forehead and we held there a couple of seconds. I've learned with the four-leggeds that a gesture, when it's done it's done. We humans like to make things last a long time and dwell. My human inclination is to put foreheads together and hold for several seconds. A donkey, like a cat, like a dog, once the gesture is made it's meaning is communicated and it's over. No big deal made of it. I've asked him to teach me donkey and he is. Every day he gives me a new insight into donkey nature. Part of why I'm writing it here is so I won't forget, a memory aid, as well as to share it with you.

 

 

 

Jack's delight when he saw me was so ecstatic he humbled me to see my donkey friend act out his meaning. The way I see him, we have the same brain, except I have the curse of the forebrain that created all the confusion we call human. I see him fortunate to have a mind not burdened with questions, belief systems, traditions. I want to learn the language of silence, how the four-leggeds communicate with each other in silence. They have their language of sounds their tongues allow them to make, which is quite expressive. When I open the door for Caterpillar to come in the house, I say, "Hey, Pillar," and she mutters a barely audible sound that says Hi. She steps over beside her scratch pad and looks up at me, meaning pick me up and tell me you love me. In a short time she's had the experience she wanted and is ready for me to put her down. A moment of connecting heart-to-heart. She only needs it once a day. No matter what I'm doing, I do have time to take a moment to hold Caterpillar and connect with her. Today I saw I have bonded with Donkey Jack and from now on we are friends, the real deal. After today, instead of going to the meadow to give carrots to the donkey, I'll be going to see my friend with carrots. Now that we've made the heart connection, we can have a good time. He'll teach me donkey all the faster. When I sit with him in the meadow, it will no longer be me apprehensive of him turning his back to me and kicking, and Jack will no longer be watching me apprehensive of what I might do to him by surprise. From here on, we'll be more relaxed together. Our meetings will be characterized by a quiet comfort, feeling protected in the presence of the other. It is a thrill for me to befriend an African herd animal. Gives me insight into the individual minds of the zebra, the wildebeest, the antelopes when I see them in National Geographic videos.. They're people too.  

 





 



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