An Unexpected Place

Final Voyage, oil on linen, 30 x 48 inches

My most recent painting had a surprising genesis. Amy and I were at a special museum exhibit in Oaxaca featuring art celebrating Xoloitzcuintle dogs. We own one. “Xoloitzcuintles are national treasures in Mexico, with a history that goes back at least 3,000 years. Mentions of these “strange hairless dogs” appear in the journals of Cortez and other European explorers. Ancient Aztecs named the breed for their dog-headed god Xolotl. Xolos were considered sacred by the Aztecs and often were sacrificed and buried alongside their owners to serve as protective guides to the next world. In modern times, Xolos are dedicated watchdogs and companions.” _AKC.org.
At one time Xolos were almost extinct, now resurrected they are celebrated. Ancestors of today’s Mexicans held the dog in high regard and today it is the dog most representative of Mexico.

In art, “happy accidents” are gifts. Like a lightning bolt, pure inspiration suddenly comes from an unexpected place. Many times I have labored on art with good intentions only to find I don’t like the outcome. Perhaps it lacks spontaneity, freshness . . . and so I strike out what I have done. Then something new appears in that destruction. A new direction and vision occurs.

At the exhibition, among the paintings, drawings and sculptures, I found myself in front of a glass case. Inside, a bronze sculpture of a boat, holding only an erect Xolo at the bow, showing the way. That moment I got an idea for a painting. I could make another of my “Memento Mori” pieces, commemorating the inevitability of death and passage between worlds.

At home I began gathering together ideas and decided death would row a boat with a casket while a Xolo sat atop, amidst flowers. I would call the work “Final Voyage.” The lake is set among mountains. The mood is somber but a light shows through the clouds, illuminating the waters. The course is set, the journey begun, with our Xolo guide present showing the way.

First study

Detail

Anniversary of Transcendence

Today is the anniversary of the transcendence into the immortal spiritual realm of my oldest daughter. It was July 5, 1999, when Naomi, then 19, winged her way out of her physical cage. Before she left to soar with utmost freedom and happiness in the heavenly realms, she kissed this life farewell with tenderness and love. One of the last things she said was, “I love my body, it has been so good to me.” 

I knelt by her side as she lay dying, and with tears in my eyes told her I loved her and was proud of her. She managed to turn her head to look at me tenderly and say, “I love you too; times two!”

When we first learned Naomi had a vicious cancer in her hip and had little chance of survival, I began taking notes and writing, thinking her story would be a remarkable miracle of recovery and celebration of faith. She made a recovery of sorts and gave us hope she might survive. But this was only to grant her more time to gain greater powers of soul, for the Hand of the Creator was training her to be one of His great angels. Many pains, hardships, disappointments and cruelties came to her and she met them as obstacles to overcome. In the process I stood by her side in anguish, but also in awe and utmost respect, noting everything. 

Fortunately, Naomi was a keen observer from an early age. She began writing in diaries at the age of nine years old. She continued until her death, and all the books are safely stored away. I used her words often while writing her story, then in 2001, published A Heart Traced In Sand, Reflections on a Daughter’s Struggle for Life. It won two awards and has touched the hearts of many.

Now, 19 years after the print edition, the digital edition is available. (Come to think of it, 19 is  appropriate . . . a sacred number and also marks her duration on earth.) The digital edition, $3.95, is accessible as an EPUB—readable on many devices, and also as a pdf. It includes many links that reveal special pictures and documents that are not included in the print version, $14.95.

EPUB introductory price of 3.95 with 30% going to Miracles From Maggie, a charity for families dealing with childhood cancer.

Go to: A Heart Traced In Sand

Smiling From Ear To Ear

Despite every effort, when a famine spread throughout the land, a man and his wife succumbed to starvation. First the man. His wife loved him so dearly that she hastened in his footsteps. Then they were together again happier than ever. They were skeletons—just bones with no meat, but looked as beautiful as ever to each other. 

One day they went to sit by their favorite piece of art . . . an immense painting of a young woman naked and gazing up into the heavens, in front of two young musicians playing flutes. They were in good spirits and laughed, joking about their former life and how hungry they had been. The woman put on a baking apron, a bakers cap, and took a guitar out and began to play and sing. The man had a bakers apron on and found an immense basket full of bread loaves that he put on his lap as he sat next to his wife. He had his bakers hat on too and sang along gleefully. 

An angel heard the singing and arrived to see what all the merry-making was about. She hovered above the couple, and when they looked up and saw her, they both stopped singing. The man spoke and said, “Do you know that you are naked?” The angel smiled and replied, “I am not naked. It is you two that are naked . . . you have not an ounce of flesh on your bones!” At that, the husband grinned at his wife and both of them broke out laughing. The woman began playing her guitar again and both sang together in such perfect melodies that the naked angel soared in circles around their heads, twinkling her toes and smiling from ear to ear.

Nothing Is Lost

At the temple of Karnak, Luxor, Egypt

Today’s blog is number 347. That is about 6 ½ years of writing. In the beginning, I wrote to bring attention to my artwork, but quickly, the writing became fuller—to encompass life and death, philosophy, religion, art and travel, and more. As I think of it now, I became disciplined and rarely missed a beat, even while living out of a suitcase, traveling constantly. The written recording, augmented with photographs, is useful and has led me to ponder how experience is never lost, but is computed in the mind of God.

I love the term Akashic Record. It is described as containing all knowledge of human experience and the history of the cosmos. Many people who have died and reached the portal of the next world, when by fate have returned to a resuscitated body, describe seeing their entire life pass in front of them. "Nothing is lost of either piety or sin that is committed by creatures. On days of the full moon and the new moon, those acts are conveyed to the Sun where they rest. When a mortal goes into the region of the dead, the deity of the Sun bears witness to all his acts. He that is righteous acquires the fruits of his righteousness there." (Mahabharata, Anusasana Parva, Section 130, Ganguli trans.)

Ancient Egyptian Afterlife Ceremony


We all will do well to ponder our lives, and reflect on our doings. While I was in Egypt, I saw artwork that copied ancient hieroglyph’s depicting the journey into the next world, and the chain of events that marked that transition. A person’s deeds are recorded, and a panel of 14 judges makes an accounting for judgment. If all is well, the personality continues to meet the higher beings. If not, Ammut the god with the crocodile head and hippopotamus legs will devour the heart, condemning the deceased to oblivion for eternity.
For more about Ammut: .http://egypt.mrdonn.org/weighingheart.html
For more about Ancient Egyptian Afterlife Ceremony.