The more I try to reason with this, the more it slips away. It is not reason that gives me, or defines, this experience. The feeling I had in the rain this morning was that it brought me the ocean. That was the beginning (or was it the end?). The beginning of this meditation. I am in the ocean, the ocean is in me. The ocean is framed by the shore, the ocean frames the shore. The air frames all of us, all being, and we frame it. What is frame and what is object?This was prompted out of Roger's beautiful, simple, intricate efforts to create art out of the earth's stores, on the earth, in water. I honor him, though my effort is just so small.
Inside, outside the frame... one and the same... and all frames are porous.
Robert, when I'm at my best, I feel the permeability of all boundaries.
I think you may have just helped me pinpoint why I love the Dutch weather so much, Ruth! Wind and rain course through my veins all year 'round....
You have followed your heart on so many levels, Boots. xoxo
Being and Artfulness.
This is true, Rosaria. It's what we are, and what we do with what we are. xo
I'm so happy to read this poem, Ruth, and your comment about the evanescence and - as Robert states, porosity - of the boundaries that exist between the seemingly concrete frames of our world. Boundaries that, in the end, really only exist in our mind's eye.
Amanda, thank you for responding, you who know how long stone lasts ... and yet, and yet.
Ruth, Your word "unframe" captures my imagination. I checked it out. Wow! The wind teaches us to (?) take down, break apart, destroy our frameworks. Indeed, extreme winds do just this. Thoroughly. And more, such winds come with more than ample rain, water raised from the ocean.In the end methinks that you are asking us to feel the water. To allow ourselves to be washed. To let our structures and boundaries be dissolved.Thank you, Ruthie, for this opportunity to let my imagination run a bit.
Nelson, you did check it out! Beyond what came to me in meditation of the spirit. Thank you.
who would think of raindrops as having frames/boundaries? "The air frames all of us" you write, "and we frame it." So true. But those drops, that water, framed until they blend together, pooling on your face, the ground, wherever, become an ocean, water without boundaries…as perhaps we all would, if we would loose/lose our boundaries of Self and Other and become as one with the world.Thank you for this. It is beautiful.
All that you said, yes. When I have moments of union, really feeling it, it is bliss. Thank you.
The wind keeps teaching, that's the point, if we keep listening ... and writing what we hear down.
As you daily testify, Brendan. It's good to see you again.
How beautifully descriptive this is!
Thank you, Sandy. It is small, but it points to something larger.
Quelle délicieuse et délicate surprise, Ruth, que ce poème. Il me touche beaucoup et je le publierai sur mon blog prochainement.Je vous embrasse bien amicalement.Roger
Votre poème est présenté dès aujourd'hui sur mon blog LE CHEMIN DES GRANDS JARDIN . Mille fois merci pour ce très beau cadeau.Roger
Mine is a small gift to you, Roger, in response to the boundless care and devotion of your land art, which is far more than art. It is love via imagination, labor and earth's fruits.
All responses are welcome.