Showing posts with label prisoner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prisoner. Show all posts

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Division Bells


I imagine I know what a prisoner feels like when he is released from confinement and walks out into the big, bright planet as a free person. Suddenly, he acutely appreciates everything, and especially marvels that he is free to touch the world once again. The sun warms his flesh, colors are vivid and true, and he drinks deep the fresh air, relishing life as if he is born again. Now that the nineteen-day fast is over until next year, this is what I felt like yesterday, when I began my day and could eat or drink whenever I wanted. I had been a willing prisoner, but now my aim is accomplished and I have a fresh and vital perspective going forward.
I pulled into my driveway today just as a song came on the radio that held me so that I just sat and listened. It was Pink Floyd’s composition called High Hopes. It begins with the chiming of bells, which reminded me of Venice, Italy. The first stanza goes,
Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young

In a world of magnets and miracles

Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary

The ringing of the division bell had begun

It made me think. Children in their innocence see the world as if dreaming. The universe to them is whole and fluid, with moments effortlessly flowing one into the other. Imagination imbues everything with possibility. Then, the bells of rationality and discriminate thinking sound, and so the perception of the world changes. Slowly, children become less magical and more grounded in opinion. The ego develops and so do feelings of separation. People develop alliances and choose labels for themselves and others, such as; nationality, color, status, profession, sexuality, and many others.
To me, THE DREAM is the same place we lived when we were children, in a world of magnets and miracles, . . . without boundary. To stay there, is to not listen to the division bells that cut and dice the world into separate and unequal parts and makes us prisoners. It is to be, as Bob Dylan says in his song of the same name, "forever young."

May God bless and keep you always,
May your wishes all come true,
May you always do for others
And let others do for you.
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May you grow up to be righteous,
May you grow up to be true,
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you.
May you always be courageous,
Stand upright and be strong,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

May your hands always be busy,
May your feet always be swift,
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift.
May your heart always be joyful,
May your song always be sung,
May you stay forever young,
Forever young, forever young,
May you stay forever young.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

True Spirit


SATURDAY, DECEMBER 9
This year, instead of hours spent shopping, a charitable donation will be made in the name of my relations. Christmas is way overdone . . . and much of the true spirit has been lost. People camp out in the cold in front of retail stores to be the first ones in the door. If you look at the life of Jesus, his offerings were not material ones. Furthermore, he did not need or want gifts, except those of the Spirit.
I like my little house except that it is cold and I can’t get warm. Occasionally, I get a feeling of being punished living alone. I am aware of being circumscribed, like a prisoner. The funny thing is, I can feel like a prisoner even when I am in a group, and at times felt that way at home with Jean. Maybe it is my curse. I never feel that way while I am doing my creative work. Perhaps my soul is an adventurer and loves to be on it's own, seeking new terrain and discovery.
Once a week I go to a drawing group that hires a model to pose. The artists sit in a semi-circle while the model stands on a short platform, unveils and poses in various postures for three hours. It is delicious studying the human form and drawing it on paper. In this group, there is relaxed, free association, with intellectual, humorous, and sometimes bawdy conversation. Most drawing groups are very serious, with no talking.
After two great months of painting sales, I hit bottom in November. Too bad, because I have made some of my strongest work ever lately and I can’t show it.
Steven Boone