What Stays, What Goes

Purge. This is what comes to mind frequently these days as Amy and I go through possessions, deciding what stays with us and what goes. Fortunately, we both are veterans of purges from before our marriage a couple years ago. Between the two of us, we have more than we want to take to live in Mexico. So we pack only the most meaningful books, and give away or sell those we may have attachment to but don’t quite reach the highest level of “essential”. This is the same with everything . . . there is some emotional wrenching—like when I just gave away a 40 year old jade plant. It had been with me since before I had children. In fact, it felt like I was giving my child away.

At one point, I gave up expecting certainty about the timeframe for moving. We haven’t bought the home yet, and I expected to have done so by now. But it looks as though this week it will happen. It is not like we are buying a house in our neighborhood. It is in another country. Many things could go wrong. So we have been working carefully with our American realtor who is also a Mexican citizen. His partner is a Mexican lawyer. The owner is a German senior citizen, living in Germany.

We must obtain a permanent residence visa from the Mexican consulate. A lot of paperwork there. Complicating matters is that Amy’s passport has her maiden name, but she changed it after our marriage. So she decided to apply for another passport with her new name.  

Then there is issue of moving our possessions. The border is closed.

I give it all to God. 

Spirit comes to me and gives encouragement. That is enough.

A Blessed Path

We are both a bit thunderstruck—hit by lightning; not burned but filled with a higher vibration from heaven that gleams with light.

Barely a week ago we did not think that our little wedding would be today. Just four other people were with us to make it official.

Now the sun is out and shining brilliantly. A blessed path is before us; we both know it.
Amy Cordova and I intend to walk a holy path together. Our days as artists will be filled with creativity. We share love for life, Spirit and God.

In two days we will be in Mexico. First, Oaxaca for Day Of The Dead celebrations, then Mexico City. From there we will travel to Spain and Morocco. We don’t have a return ticket, but guess that in three months we will be back to the USA. Perhaps then we can celebrate and have a ceremony with loved ones and friends.

Our DREAM together is bigger and better than we can imagine and we are in awe. Our hearts are full and thankful.

Suddenly Vanished

The most difficult experience in life is separation. At birth, it is the baby being forced apart from the mother, coming from the womb and the umbilical cord being cut. Then the weaning from the breast, and if it is too sudden there is much crying. Later, the first steps away from mother and father, going off to school for the first time. As the child grows, new bonds of affection form with friends, and eventually, another separation unfolds with the leaving of home and family to start a new life of independence.

All the while, special care is taken to maintain the all-important bond of spirit. This way, a certain safety and security is assured. Even when there is great distance, the bond of spirit is beyond time and space doing its work.
That bond depends on trust. If trust is broken, then the bond breaks. This is worse than physical separation.

When my teen-aged daughter died at the age of nineteen, it felt as though my best partner in life had suddenly vanished. As if we had been hiking together on a wondrous and difficult mountain, helping each other along, crying and laughing together, in awe and also some fear, holding to one another and absolutely bonded, when of a sudden, she vanished—as if from a ledge she leapt into thin air, leaving me alone on the mountainside . . . taking some of my joy with her. We both knew in advance the perils, and she spoke of her uncertainty that she would remain by my side; not that she did not want to, but the hand of fate had written to her. If she spoke of this, I would respond that we could overcome even the hand of fate. But the higher powers wanted her and my love could not keep her from going to a realm even more high and mighty than the feeble mountain I clung to. Now, I found myself on the same wonderful and difficult mountain, but without my dearest friend, and nothing looked the same.

And so here I am fifteen years later in the same situation. Through a physical, mental and

emotional bond, in marriage to Heidi of the Mountains, we had been exploring the heights of our existence, gaining perspective from our vantage on a mountainside, seeing the low places below us, and dreaming of higher places, when the journey became more strenuous and suddenly tiresome. She doubted, and began longing to go back down. I held her hand to convince her of the most beautiful places we had been and just ahead, more sublimity and our lofty goal within reach. We must be loyal, and patient, to give each other strength to get there. I worried she was abandoning me, reminded of my experience with my daughter. I pleaded, but she turned away . . . I could not go with her, and though heartbroken, kept to the mountain.

It has secrets and charms that speak to me every day—bringing healing. The angelic winds play all around, with lofty, wondrous songs, the air is clear and bright, the path strewn with wildflowers. I will travel on, and deal with my loneliness. I trust that the longer I stay on course, the stronger I will become and more wise. The mountain will offer up its joy to me because I do not leave it, but remain faithful.

Divided

The marriage of Heidi of the Mountains and Steven the Artist is ending. It is agreed that love exists, yet various problems plagued the relationship from the beginning. The two never lived together full time, since Heidi owns a home in another town forty minutes away, where her teen-aged son lives with her half time. Steven resides in the city of his work and where he feels he belongs—Santa Fe, the art capital of the United States. The town where Heidi lives is a suburb of Los Alamos, the birthplace of the atomic bomb—all the homes are the same and the brainy-headed science people are more or less the same too. Of all the places on earth, it is on the list of impossible places for Steven to live. But he tried for awhile. He always anticipated the day her boy would graduate and Heidi and Steven could buy a home together.

Before Steven met Heidi, he had spent over a year living abroad without home or car—like the wind that is free, full and strong, blowing over mountain and ocean, through metropolis and village. He was as comfortable on a camel as he was in a limousine. Happy in a tent amidst lions and water buffalo in the Serengeti or in a marbled palace in Bangkok, Thailand. When he arrived back to Santa Fe, his life had broadened from so many profound experiences gained living in a multitude of cities and traveling over all the continents.

When the two first met, Heidi was modeling nude and Steven was drawing her. The two struck up a business relationship with Heidi acting as an art broker, and affection developed then marriage. The two shared wonderful intimacies and especially love of nature—relishing places such as the sandy beaches of Hawaii, the vastness of the Grand Canyon, the mountains of New Mexico and Colorado, and the excitement of Paris and London and Marrakesh. During this time, Heidi had quit a job she did not like and went to work for Steven in a gallery he opened. Steven had thought initially to work alone in his gallery, painting and selling. Heidi at first said, “maybe we should not work together.” But Steven naturally trusted, and so they became a team. The costs were extraordinarily high, since the rent alone was $5,500.00 per month, and then there was Heidi's salary and other expenses. Steven struggled and Heidi became unhappy to see that the business took all the resources. The gallery closed, Heidi took her former job, and Steven found another gallery to show his paintings.

From the beginning, Heidi insisted that Steven draw inward with her into a very private world. She always suspected that he wanted to go off without her and resume his travels. Steven could not understand why Heidi insisted that he must cut off the loving thread that went from his life out into relations he had with the world at large. He remained by her side, anticipating an eventual fuller life together when they lived as one. Yet, eventually, the two felt unhappiness intruding into their love. It became apparent the marriage—meant to be a fortress of well being for the two to enjoy, had indeed become divided. Heidi built an emotional wall that was more distant than the miles between their homes and said, “I am more comfortable this way.” Steven said, but we can't live like this, you must be hot or cold or it is nothing at all. Heidi shrugged and said she could not change. The two separated on a trial basis—not sharing nights or fond times. Heidi felt more peace; but not Steven. He pleaded that the issues were not insurmountable because love is stronger than mountains. Changes were near, opportunities abounded, happiness just a heart beat away. Heidi admitted as much but said, “I am too weak, and it is unfair to you.” Then she said, "Maybe someday we will get back together, who knows?"

And this is what it has come to. She is keeping my artwork and I am planning to sell off all my possessions and follow spirit where ever it takes me. Probably Europe first. And Heidi, she is planning to sell her home and buy one where I always had hoped that we would live together—in Santa Fe. She will have my art to remind her of me.

Private Sanctuary Of Love

“Nothing do I perceive, but I perceive God within it, God before it, and God after it.” -Baha'u'llah, (Persian,  November 12 1817 – May 29 1892)

I stayed in a spare bedroom while I visited my mother in her home in Santa Barbara, California. She is weak with a slowly failing body, but her spirit is strong. Her caregivers, noticing a sudden decline, urged me to visit—yet, what was to be my final farewell trip across state borders to her bedside was nothing of the sort. She revived, was glad to see me, and we took advantage of the visit to reaffirm our eternal bond. My trip lasted one week.

Simultaneously with my mother's precarious condition, I have another serious issue pressing upon me, so I am compelled to pray far more than usual. Twice a day for a month now, I have been reciting The Long Healing Prayer of Baha'u'llah. Although the pain is not taken from me, I find my mind shifting enough that I clearly see the difference between temporal and eternal. My strength is in the eternal . . . where the discerning mind sees reality.

My last day in Santa Barbara, the weather was perfect—balmy, sunny and serene, with slight caressing breezes. My mother's home is on a corner lot, and surrounded by an immense hedge so that it is completely private. Birds are always present at the feeders, the grass is green and kept trim, and a lovely rose garden holds eighty bushes that bloom most of the year. It was my custom to walk around outdoors and pray, and as I did, the fragrance of jasmine and orange blossoms filled the air. The beautiful roses bloomed beside me, and I heard birds singing. The great trees sheltered me from above and as I concentrated on the Creator,  I felt I was in a private sanctuary of Love.

We Have Each Other

  

To arrive at the Bisti Badlands in New Mexico is like landing on another planet. No paved roads, no trees or shrubs—only barren, rocky land for miles. What is attractive is the pristine space, carved by rock forms shaped by time, wind, gravity and the elements.

Heidi Of The Mountains and I take one day a week to relax and spend time together away from pressing cares. We usually choose an adventure to share, although one day, we did nothing but sleep, read, and do some gardening. We chose to visit Bisti, and arrived at the Badlands in the dark, after driving 3 ½ hours from Santa Fe. The last two miles were dirt road, with no light. I parked at the end of the road and we got out to walk with our puppy, Chamo. The air was warm and noiseless. We tried to stay on the road while walking beneath a half full moon. We could only barely make out the forms of the rocky hills nearby. Heidi said, “As long as we have each other, we don’t need anything else.”

Later that night, the temperatures dropped and I argued with Heidi who did not want me to put the dog, who is getting hefty in size, outside. We were crammed into the back of my van, sleeping on a foam pad. The dog went out, but soon was scratching to get back in. Once inside again, he fell asleep with his head on my chest and started dreaming, then twitching in his sleep. Eventually, I settled him next to Heidi who does not mind him lying next to her. We all slept together until I woke at dawn and saw a rosy sky outside. The air was cold, but I arose to go out for a walk and photograph. Chamo came with me and we explored the stunning landscape. Despite my frozen hands, I took some nice pictures.

I had walked around mesmerized by the scenery and light, still sleepy—and got lost. Chamo did not understand my entreaties to “find Heidi.” We found the road, but I began walking in the wrong direction until I decided to turn around. At last, we arrived back to the van, and Heidi was waiting, concerned we had been gone so long.

When the three of us set out walking together into the badlands, we felt free and happy to be in such unusual and intriguing surroundings. Nobody else was around, and Heidi modeled nude among the rocks, under the big sky.

I had intended to paint in the afternoon, but after lounging in the van for a nap, the sky grew cloudy and a wind picked up force. We began driving back to Santa Fe. Along the way, we occasionally noticed derelict homes dotting the landscape. Heidi said, “How can people live out here?” I reminded her what she had said earlier, that we had each other, and so could be anywhere. She said, “I could not live here.” Then I smiled and kept my mouth shut.

Jumping In

Jumping into married life after being a “free” man for years, is both joyous and daunting. I had been happy, dancing free and blowing with the wind, but now, it will never be the same because in marriage, although two trees grow side by side, their roots entwine in the earth and a symbiosis occurs so that the couple depend on each other for growth. I have to change my language. When I speak of experience, Heidi Of The Mountains expects to be included and so I have to change my thought—to use the term “we”, rather than “I”.

Heidi Of The Mountains is affectionate and full of aspirations, and we both have confidence for our future. We have assets and are combining our lives, step by step. She is pouring her energy into my art gallery and impressing me. She is a good arranger, has an aesthetic eye, is an adept manager and with her enthusiasm, sells my paintings frequently. We are marching together.

On Marriage

By Kahlil Gibran
You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore.
You shall be together when the white wings of death scatter your days.
Ay, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God.
But let there be spaces in your togetherness,
And let the winds of the heavens dance between you.


Love one another, but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.
Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup.
Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf
Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone,
Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.


Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping.
For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts.
And stand together yet not too near together:
For the pillars of the temple stand apart,
And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow.

Unusual And Entrancing Episodes

Sarah and I. We are at a dinner party in Chicago, at the home of her aunt. In the background is a large abstract painting I did in 2007.

"They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night." Edgar Allan Poe,  Eleonora

Paris Street; Rainy Day, by Gustave Caillebotte
French, 1848–1894   Collection of the Art Institute of Chicago

Land meets the sea, Kauai, Hawaii

“The very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream.”
 William Shakespeare

The past thirty days, THE DREAM delivered unusual and entrancing episodes into the chapters of my life. I am a whirling dervish, with little care for possessions, so it was not hard to move out of the house I had been living in for the past year. After all, I have a studio, and recently started a gallery to show my art. My fiancé took some of my things for safekeeping into her home, and just as the days began to chill and leaves began falling, I went to Santa Barbara, California, where my parents live.

At the beach, Santa Barbara

Rose, growing in my mother's backyard

From there, I arrived in Kauai, Hawaii, an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. After ten days, Heidi Of The Mountains arrived and we married, entwined in love, flowers, and billowing elements where the sea meets the shore.

The newlyweds, Kauai, Hawaii

The endless sea, wild and free.

Monk seals

Halo around the sun, with Palm trees in front.

Chicago!

Ten days later we arrived in Chicago, the “windy city” on Lake Michigan, where sturdy buildings of steel and glass reach high into the air, disappearing into clouds overhead. Everything is available—museums, institutions of higher learning, vast commerce, science and industry, fine dining, entertainment, taxis, trains, busses.

Sarah, on her 25th birthday, 11-11-2011

My daughter, Sarah, lives in Chicago, and on November 11, (11-11-2011) celebrated her birthday with a grand dinner and then a dance party with live band at a local nightclub.

Dancing in a club . . . 

One month of whirlwind sites and sounds, and here I have made a photomontage. As it is said, a picture is worth one thousand words.

Seen at the Shedd Aquatrium

Baha'i Temple, Wilmette, outside Chicago

Part Of A Twosome

Wow. In one day I went from a single man to married. Well, maybe not in one day, since Lori and I had been dating for two years and a “couple” for one year.

I liked my five years of being single, especially the year of 2008, when I went solo around the world for twelve months, living in THE DREAM.

Now, I am in a conjugal relationship—part of a twosome. Fortunately, we give each other happiness, and can bounce down the path of life joyfully. I met Lori when she modeled for a life-drawing group and I spent three hours studying her figure. I have drawn her many times since then and we have become so enmeshed that she quit her long time job as a probation officer so that she is now my gallery manager and sells my artwork full time.

This week we married here on the island of Kauai. We wanted the ceremony to be very private, so essentially, it was just the two of us filling out Hawaiian legal papers and finding Baha’i’s to witness and sign. We had some nervous moments in preparation, but Spirit took over and accomplished our highest good.

Today, we leave lovely Kauai and arrive in Chicago. My daughter is celebrating her birthday with a big party on an auspicious day—11-11-2011.

Please enjoy the website I made: A SOJOURN ON KAUAI, HAWAII.

Soul Mates

Life is change, and a big change is coming for me soon. After four years of being single and footloose, I am now engaged to Heidi Of The Mountains, and we will be married on the island of Kauai, Hawaii, November 4. Over the past two years, we have grown steadily closer, so that this is a natural evolution and culmination of our relationship.

I have enjoyed my four years of singleness and done things that I was only able to do alone. I have many experiences, and memories of adventures that will serve me the rest of my life. After we marry, Heidi Of The Mountains will most often be by my side, and I can be a trail guide for an enthusiastic explorer.

In our relationship, she has been bolder and more of the trailblazer. She has been the one to proclaim the supremacy of love, and press the bonds of affection. As if under a spell, my castle walls made of sand have steadily crumbled into the sea of love.

We are a team now. Heidi Of The Mountains quit her job of fifteen years to manage my art gallery. We make daily decisions together and plan our future. She does not stand for negativity and constantly affirms positive results. Getting married is a result of both of us thinking positive together. We have both been married twice before . . . so I feel slight trepidation, but Heidi Of The Mountains confirms that we are “soul mates” that have found one another.