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Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana wrote:

>

> Just sharing some artwork and music this Sunday morning. Enjoy!

>

>

>

 

 

Indeed, fascinating and intriguing, including their drapery. Simply

masterpieces. Picasso was right.

 

Thanks, Anna

 

Werner

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Nisargadatta , " Werner Woehr " <wwoehr wrote:

>

> Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana@> wrote:

> >

> > Just sharing some artwork and music this Sunday morning. Enjoy!

> >

> >

> >

>

>

> Indeed, fascinating and intriguing, including their drapery. Simply

masterpieces. Picasso was right.

>

> Thanks, Anna

>

> Werner

>

 

Hi Werner,

 

 

It's been a while since I wept in front of a canvas. This morning the tears

were freely flowing.

 

And isn't that what we're all really looking for?

 

To touch, see, feel and hear beauty, to taste it with all our senses?

 

 

 

Love and Light,

 

Anna

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Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana wrote:

>

> Just sharing some artwork and music this Sunday morning. Enjoy!

>

>

>

>WOW. No runway in Paris can beat the natural fashion of the Omo people.

Thanks for sharing.

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Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana wrote:

>

> Nisargadatta , " Werner Woehr " <wwoehr@> wrote:

> >

> > Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana@> wrote:

> > >

> > > Just sharing some artwork and music this Sunday morning. Enjoy!

> > >

> > >

> > >

> >

> >

> > Indeed, fascinating and intriguing, including their drapery. Simply

masterpieces. Picasso was right.

> >

> > Thanks, Anna

> >

> > Werner

> >

>

> Hi Werner,

>

>

> It's been a while since I wept in front of a canvas. This morning the tears

were freely flowing.

>

> And isn't that what we're all really looking for?

>

> To touch, see, feel and hear beauty, to taste it with all our senses?

>

>

>

> Love and Light,

>

> Anna

>

>Anna you seem to have such a pure heart. Amen to the above!

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" anabebe57 " <kailashana wrote:

> Just sharing some artwork and music this Sunday morning. Enjoy!

>

 

Thank you, Anabebe57!

 

I was blown away by the utter creativity of unfettered minds. The freedom of

composition bespeaks of a purity that is suffocatingly rare in " civilized life. "

When I see the variances from artists such as these and then compare that to the

creativity of Hollywood or the colonic runways of haute couture with women in

outlandish costumes-for-costuming's-sake, it absolutely recalibrates my marrow.

The sheer innocence of these Eden beings shames all modernity's offerings.

Louvre Museum, eat your heart out. Even Mona Lisa's smile cannot send one's

soul the heights that these painted faces can so offhandly lift one to. Who can

see these flowers without being borne aloft?

 

What a zombified mob any New York City street presents with its army of

factory-painted clones. Always the mouth is red, always cheeks rosy, and always

the eyes painted like whores -- replicas, duplicates, echoes with no artistic

value.

 

The photographer, of course, put these innocents into poses, right? I mean, it

simply can't be that these children of the Earth would be found always so

framable for a cover shot for National Geographic like that Afghanistani woman

with the piercing eyes. But the power of these faces is so complete that the

artifice of the photographer's framing seems at odds with the spontaneity of

these human artworks. I think we might all love the photographer's " outtakes "

more.

 

The photographer wants us to see the Noble Savages with hearts so pure that all

relationship between these beings must be also so perfectly framable,

capturable, and plentiful. The photographer would have us believe that these

souls are in a jungle heaven with a perfect culture, a perfect society with

perfect beings. But, no, right? These folks are in their huts complaining

about tribal politics, who owes who a goat, who got mud in the cooking water --

like that. The photographer put these birds of paradise into the camera's cage.

The photographer should have included real life in these compositions -- we

should have seen the squalor, the squabbles, and the scrabblers, and THEN how

their artistry would POP for us all. Then, THEN, when we were able to see vast

hearts blossoming in the mud of a 3rd world lifestlye -- whew, it would be a

humbling tsunami. Then we'd know them and then our tears would never stop.

 

Edg

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Nisargadatta , " duveyoung " <edg wrote:

>

> " anabebe57 " <kailashana@> wrote:

> > Just sharing some artwork and music this Sunday morning. Enjoy!

> >

>

> Thank you, Anabebe57!

>

> I was blown away by the utter creativity of unfettered minds. The freedom of

composition bespeaks of a purity that is suffocatingly rare in " civilized life. "

When I see the variances from artists such as these and then compare that to the

creativity of Hollywood or the colonic runways of haute couture with women in

outlandish costumes-for-costuming's-sake, it absolutely recalibrates my marrow.

The sheer innocence of these Eden beings shames all modernity's offerings.

Louvre Museum, eat your heart out. Even Mona Lisa's smile cannot send one's

soul the heights that these painted faces can so offhandly lift one to. Who can

see these flowers without being borne aloft?

>

> What a zombified mob any New York City street presents with its army of

factory-painted clones. Always the mouth is red, always cheeks rosy, and always

the eyes painted like whores -- replicas, duplicates, echoes with no artistic

value.

>

> The photographer, of course, put these innocents into poses, right? I mean,

it simply can't be that these children of the Earth would be found always so

framable for a cover shot for National Geographic like that Afghanistani woman

with the piercing eyes. But the power of these faces is so complete that the

artifice of the photographer's framing seems at odds with the spontaneity of

these human artworks. I think we might all love the photographer's " outtakes "

more.

>

> The photographer wants us to see the Noble Savages with hearts so pure that

all relationship between these beings must be also so perfectly framable,

capturable, and plentiful. The photographer would have us believe that these

souls are in a jungle heaven with a perfect culture, a perfect society with

perfect beings. But, no, right? These folks are in their huts complaining

about tribal politics, who owes who a goat, who got mud in the cooking water --

like that. The photographer put these birds of paradise into the camera's cage.

The photographer should have included real life in these compositions -- we

should have seen the squalor, the squabbles, and the scrabblers, and THEN how

their artistry would POP for us all. Then, THEN, when we were able to see vast

hearts blossoming in the mud of a 3rd world lifestlye -- whew, it would be a

humbling tsunami. Then we'd know them and then our tears would never stop.

>

> Edg

>

>Great insight Edg.

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Waiting to see what the creative destruction has to say about all this...

 

But I freeze framed each shot and shared your meditations before I let you post

them, below. :) You forgot to mention that Madison Ave ain't no better and

no worse, neither, too. It's already always here, in the Now, know.

 

The other thing you forgot :) is that you can feel how much time the pairs

and triads spent in the trance states they put us, too, in, by themselves, in

unimaginable/imaginable intimacy alone together. Thus their art is a measure of

the treasure of the trance pleasure that we Now share. Insured, assured, sure,

for Now.

 

 

 

 

> Thank you, Anabebe57!

>

> I was blown away by the utter creativity of unfettered minds. The freedom of

composition bespeaks of a purity that is suffocatingly rare in " civilized life. "

When I see the variances from artists such as these and then compare that to the

creativity of Hollywood or the colonic runways of haute couture with women in

outlandish costumes-for-costuming's-sake, it absolutely recalibrates my marrow.

The sheer innocence of these Eden beings shames all modernity's offerings.

Louvre Museum, eat your heart out. Even Mona Lisa's smile cannot send one's

soul the heights that these painted faces can so offhandly lift one to. Who can

see these flowers without being borne aloft?

>

> What a zombified mob any New York City street presents with its army of

factory-painted clones. Always the mouth is red, always cheeks rosy, and always

the eyes painted like whores -- replicas, duplicates, echoes with no artistic

value.

>

> The photographer, of course, put these innocents into poses, right? I mean,

it simply can't be that these children of the Earth would be found always so

framable for a cover shot for National Geographic like that Afghanistani woman

with the piercing eyes. But the power of these faces is so complete that the

artifice of the photographer's framing seems at odds with the spontaneity of

these human artworks. I think we might all love the photographer's " outtakes "

more.

>

> The photographer wants us to see the Noble Savages with hearts so pure that

all relationship between these beings must be also so perfectly framable,

capturable, and plentiful. The photographer would have us believe that these

souls are in a jungle heaven with a perfect culture, a perfect society with

perfect beings. But, no, right? These folks are in their huts complaining

about tribal politics, who owes who a goat, who got mud in the cooking water --

like that. The photographer put these birds of paradise into the camera's cage.

The photographer should have included real life in these compositions -- we

should have seen the squalor, the squabbles, and the scrabblers, and THEN how

their artistry would POP for us all. Then, THEN, when we were able to see vast

hearts blossoming in the mud of a 3rd world lifestlye -- whew, it would be a

humbling tsunami. Then we'd know them and then our tears would never stop.

>

> Edg

>

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Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana wrote:

>

> Nisargadatta , " Werner Woehr " <wwoehr@> wrote:

> >

> > Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana@> wrote:

> > >

> > > Just sharing some artwork and music this Sunday morning. Enjoy!

> > >

> > >

> > >

> >

> >

> > Indeed, fascinating and intriguing, including their drapery. Simply

masterpieces. Picasso was right.

> >

> > Thanks, Anna

> >

> > Werner

> >

>

> Hi Werner,

>

>

> It's been a while since I wept in front of a canvas. This morning the tears

were freely flowing.

>

> And isn't that what we're all really looking for?

>

> To touch, see, feel and hear beauty, to taste it with all our senses ?

>

 

 

In some way we all are trying to regain the lost paradise, Anna.

 

Sometimes we feel its calling and knocking at our heart and we will shed tears.

 

Werner

 

 

>

>

>

>

> Love and Light,

>

> Anna

>

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Nisargadatta , " duveyoung " <edg wrote:

>

> " anabebe57 " <kailashana@> wrote:

> > Just sharing some artwork and music this Sunday morning. Enjoy!

> >

>

> Thank you, Anabebe57!

>

> I was blown away by the utter creativity of unfettered minds. The freedom of

composition bespeaks of a purity that is suffocatingly rare in " civilized life. "

When I see the variances from artists such as these and then compare that to the

creativity of Hollywood or the colonic runways of haute couture with women in

outlandish costumes-for-costuming's-sake, it absolutely recalibrates my marrow.

The sheer innocence of these Eden beings shames all modernity's offerings.

Louvre Museum, eat your heart out. Even Mona Lisa's smile cannot send one's

soul the heights that these painted faces can so offhandly lift one to. Who can

see these flowers without being borne aloft?

>

> What a zombified mob any New York City street presents with its army of

factory-painted clones. Always the mouth is red, always cheeks rosy, and always

the eyes painted like whores -- replicas, duplicates, echoes with no artistic

value.

>

> The photographer, of course, put these innocents into poses, right? I mean,

it simply can't be that these children of the Earth would be found always so

framable for a cover shot for National Geographic like that Afghanistani woman

with the piercing eyes. But the power of these faces is so complete that the

artifice of the photographer's framing seems at odds with the spontaneity of

these human artworks. I think we might all love the photographer's " outtakes "

more.

>

> The photographer wants us to see the Noble Savages with hearts so pure that

all relationship between these beings must be also so perfectly framable,

capturable, and plentiful. The photographer would have us believe that these

souls are in a jungle heaven with a perfect culture, a perfect society with

perfect beings. But, no, right? These folks are in their huts complaining

about tribal politics, who owes who a goat, who got mud in the cooking water --

like that. The photographer put these birds of paradise into the camera's cage.

The photographer should have included real life in these compositions -- we

should have seen the squalor, the squabbles, and the scrabblers, and THEN how

their artistry would POP for us all. Then, THEN, when we were able to see vast

hearts blossoming in the mud of a 3rd world lifestlye -- whew, it would be a

humbling tsunami. Then we'd know them and then our tears would never stop.

>

> Edg

>

 

 

sometimes... I just want the world to stop...

 

the *real world* is always present and accountable. It's the news, it's the

neighbors, it's the pressing circumstances of everyday life.

 

these tender moments, just seeing these faces, even if *staged* and captured...

were *enough* for me...

 

made my mind stop.

 

made my heart open.

 

~A

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> sometimes... I just want the world to stop... > > the *real world* is always present and accountable. It's the news, it's the neighbors, it's the pressing circumstances of everyday life.> > these tender moments, just seeing these faces, even if *staged* and captured... were *enough* for me... > > made my mind stop. > > made my heart open.> > ~AAh, yes! & & ...then there are the times when I just stop my own mind and make my own heart open.Sky

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Sky,

 

Yeah, at the ritam level, all of us are dressing ourselves in twigs and flowers

and colored mud.

 

Even Indra's finery is not more creative -- " the true Artist " is " doing "

everyone's life, and so, yes, Madison Avenue's minds, too, are those of

innocents in creation's wilderness.

 

The advertising executive with a new idea can be seen as a kid who's proud about

a flower stuck in a mat of hair.

 

But with these Omo photographs before us, the strut and pomp of corporatedly

contrived beauty comes off as does, say, the " packaged glamor " of JonBenét

Ramsey's costuming and make-up. Her sweet face could not be improved by that

lily-gilding, but these jungle kids actually DO integrate art with innocence --

their natural charm is enhanced -- their beauty is not masked by the layers of

paint, not skewed, not tainted by agenda. They paint themselves to merge into

their environment like chameleons. It's sacred without any need for an outer

stamp of holiness by some approving imprimatur.

 

Edg

 

Nisargadatta , " skywhilds " <skywords wrote:

>

>

> Waiting to see what the creative destruction has to say about all this...

>

> But I freeze framed each shot and shared your meditations before I let you

post them, below. :) You forgot to mention that Madison Ave ain't no better

and no worse, neither, too. It's already always here, in the Now, know.

>

> The other thing you forgot :) is that you can feel how much time the pairs

and triads spent in the trance states they put us, too, in, by themselves, in

unimaginable/imaginable intimacy alone together. Thus their art is a measure of

the treasure of the trance pleasure that we Now share. Insured, assured, sure,

for Now.

>

>

>

>

> > Thank you, Anabebe57!

> >

> > I was blown away by the utter creativity of unfettered minds. The freedom

of composition bespeaks of a purity that is suffocatingly rare in " civilized

life. " When I see the variances from artists such as these and then compare

that to the creativity of Hollywood or the colonic runways of haute couture with

women in outlandish costumes-for-costuming's-sake, it absolutely recalibrates my

marrow. The sheer innocence of these Eden beings shames all modernity's

offerings. Louvre Museum, eat your heart out. Even Mona Lisa's smile cannot

send one's soul the heights that these painted faces can so offhandly lift one

to. Who can see these flowers without being borne aloft?

> >

> > What a zombified mob any New York City street presents with its army of

factory-painted clones. Always the mouth is red, always cheeks rosy, and always

the eyes painted like whores -- replicas, duplicates, echoes with no artistic

value.

> >

> > The photographer, of course, put these innocents into poses, right? I mean,

it simply can't be that these children of the Earth would be found always so

framable for a cover shot for National Geographic like that Afghanistani woman

with the piercing eyes. But the power of these faces is so complete that the

artifice of the photographer's framing seems at odds with the spontaneity of

these human artworks. I think we might all love the photographer's " outtakes "

more.

> >

> > The photographer wants us to see the Noble Savages with hearts so pure that

all relationship between these beings must be also so perfectly framable,

capturable, and plentiful. The photographer would have us believe that these

souls are in a jungle heaven with a perfect culture, a perfect society with

perfect beings. But, no, right? These folks are in their huts complaining

about tribal politics, who owes who a goat, who got mud in the cooking water --

like that. The photographer put these birds of paradise into the camera's cage.

The photographer should have included real life in these compositions -- we

should have seen the squalor, the squabbles, and the scrabblers, and THEN how

their artistry would POP for us all. Then, THEN, when we were able to see vast

hearts blossoming in the mud of a 3rd world lifestlye -- whew, it would be a

humbling tsunami. Then we'd know them and then our tears would never stop.

> >

> > Edg

> >

>

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Nisargadatta , " skywhilds " <skywords wrote:

>

>

> FLOCK 'EM?

>

> " ...b.b.b.bird is the word... " remember, Anna?

 

 

and you can't get me out of your..

 

er..i'd say mind but no..

 

out of that pulsating puss located near the top..

 

of that pudgy animated structure you call ~sky.

 

hahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaa!

 

good mornin' pancho!

 

how's pickins'?

 

any free stuff this a.m.?

 

LOL!

 

..b b.b.

 

 

 

 

 

> > Just sharing some artwork and music this Sunday morning. Enjoy!

> >

> >

> >

>

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Nisargadatta , " duveyoung " <edg wrote:

>

> " anabebe57 " <kailashana@> wrote:

> > Just sharing some artwork and music this Sunday morning. Enjoy!

> >

>

> Thank you, Anabebe57!

>

> I was blown away by the utter creativity of unfettered minds. The freedom of

composition bespeaks of a purity that is suffocatingly rare in " civilized life. "

When I see the variances from artists such as these and then compare that to the

creativity of Hollywood or the colonic runways of haute couture with women in

outlandish costumes-for-costuming's-sake, it absolutely recalibrates my marrow.

The sheer innocence of these Eden beings shames all modernity's offerings.

Louvre Museum, eat your heart out. Even Mona Lisa's smile cannot send one's

soul the heights that these painted faces can so offhandly lift one to. Who can

see these flowers without being borne aloft?

>

> What a zombified mob any New York City street presents with its army of

factory-painted clones. Always the mouth is red, always cheeks rosy, and always

the eyes painted like whores -- replicas, duplicates, echoes with no artistic

value.

>

> The photographer, of course, put these innocents into poses, right? I mean,

it simply can't be that these children of the Earth would be found always so

framable for a cover shot for National Geographic like that Afghanistani woman

with the piercing eyes. But the power of these faces is so complete that the

artifice of the photographer's framing seems at odds with the spontaneity of

these human artworks. I think we might all love the photographer's " outtakes "

more.

>

> The photographer wants us to see the Noble Savages with hearts so pure that

all relationship between these beings must be also so perfectly framable,

capturable, and plentiful. The photographer would have us believe that these

souls are in a jungle heaven with a perfect culture, a perfect society with

perfect beings. But, no, right? These folks are in their huts complaining

about tribal politics, who owes who a goat, who got mud in the cooking water --

like that. The photographer put these birds of paradise into the camera's cage.

The photographer should have included real life in these compositions -- we

should have seen the squalor, the squabbles, and the scrabblers, and THEN how

their artistry would POP for us all. Then, THEN, when we were able to see vast

hearts blossoming in the mud of a 3rd world lifestlye -- whew, it would be a

humbling tsunami. Then we'd know them and then our tears would never stop.

>

> Edg

 

 

ROFLMAO!

 

you're trying to have yourself looked at more than the Omo.

 

you are.

 

and you're funny momo!

 

LOL!

 

..b b.b.

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always lookin' for free stuff to see..hear..eat..eh desgraciado?

 

LOL!

 

..b b.b.

 

 

 

Nisargadatta , " skywhilds " <skywords wrote:

>

>

> Waiting to see what the creative destruction has to say about all this...

>

> But I freeze framed each shot and shared your meditations before I let you

post them, below. :) You forgot to mention that Madison Ave ain't no better

and no worse, neither, too. It's already always here, in the Now, know.

>

> The other thing you forgot :) is that you can feel how much time the pairs

and triads spent in the trance states they put us, too, in, by themselves, in

unimaginable/imaginable intimacy alone together. Thus their art is a measure of

the treasure of the trance pleasure that we Now share. Insured, assured, sure,

for Now.

>

>

>

>

> > Thank you, Anabebe57!

> >

> > I was blown away by the utter creativity of unfettered minds. The freedom

of composition bespeaks of a purity that is suffocatingly rare in " civilized

life. " When I see the variances from artists such as these and then compare

that to the creativity of Hollywood or the colonic runways of haute couture with

women in outlandish costumes-for-costuming's-sake, it absolutely recalibrates my

marrow. The sheer innocence of these Eden beings shames all modernity's

offerings. Louvre Museum, eat your heart out. Even Mona Lisa's smile cannot

send one's soul the heights that these painted faces can so offhandly lift one

to. Who can see these flowers without being borne aloft?

> >

> > What a zombified mob any New York City street presents with its army of

factory-painted clones. Always the mouth is red, always cheeks rosy, and always

the eyes painted like whores -- replicas, duplicates, echoes with no artistic

value.

> >

> > The photographer, of course, put these innocents into poses, right? I mean,

it simply can't be that these children of the Earth would be found always so

framable for a cover shot for National Geographic like that Afghanistani woman

with the piercing eyes. But the power of these faces is so complete that the

artifice of the photographer's framing seems at odds with the spontaneity of

these human artworks. I think we might all love the photographer's " outtakes "

more.

> >

> > The photographer wants us to see the Noble Savages with hearts so pure that

all relationship between these beings must be also so perfectly framable,

capturable, and plentiful. The photographer would have us believe that these

souls are in a jungle heaven with a perfect culture, a perfect society with

perfect beings. But, no, right? These folks are in their huts complaining

about tribal politics, who owes who a goat, who got mud in the cooking water --

like that. The photographer put these birds of paradise into the camera's cage.

The photographer should have included real life in these compositions -- we

should have seen the squalor, the squabbles, and the scrabblers, and THEN how

their artistry would POP for us all. Then, THEN, when we were able to see vast

hearts blossoming in the mud of a 3rd world lifestlye -- whew, it would be a

humbling tsunami. Then we'd know them and then our tears would never stop.

> >

> > Edg

> >

>

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Edg,Is it possible, I ask you, Edg, my fine feathered fellow, for you to fly with me, yonder, up above, where we both see that you have just sketched a very fine nest for us, below? And that those other nests that I am sketching, are also pleasant, in their own way. We can nestle in them all, as the weather suggests. See the one where the Omo are saying exactly the same thing as you are about themselves vs Madison Ave, except, with their own touch of self congratulatory self-deprecation? Yes, that so endearing self/other deprecation that makes us so fleetingly elite amongst the elite in our bitter/sweet musings?Care to nestle there a bit for the nonce?Or am I flying too high/low for you/me?Miles and Miles of High Flighing SmilesSky Sky,

 

Yeah, at the ritam level, all of us are dressing ourselves in twigs and flowers

and colored mud.

 

Even Indra's finery is not more creative -- "the true Artist" is "doing"

everyone's life, and so, yes, Madison Avenue's minds, too, are those of

innocents in creation's wilderness.

 

The advertising executive with a new idea can be seen as a kid who's proud about

a flower stuck in a mat of hair.

 

But with these Omo photographs before us, the strut and pomp of corporatedly

contrived beauty comes off as does, say, the "packaged glamor" of JonBenét

Ramsey's costuming and make-up. Her sweet face could not be improved by that

lily-gilding, but these jungle kids actually DO integrate art with innocence --

their natural charm is enhanced -- their beauty is not masked by the layers of

paint, not skewed, not tainted by agenda. They paint themselves to merge into

their environment like chameleons. It's sacred without any need for an outer

stamp of holiness by some approving imprimatur.

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Nisargadatta , " skywhilds " <skywords wrote:

>

> > sometimes... I just want the world to stop...

> >

> > the *real world* is always present and accountable. It's the news,

> it's the neighbors, it's the pressing circumstances of everyday life.

> >

> > these tender moments, just seeing these faces, even if *staged* and

> captured... were *enough* for me...

> >

> > made my mind stop.

> >

> > made my heart open.

> >

> > ~A

>

>

> Ah, yes!

>

>

> &

>

>

> &

>

>

> ...then there are the times when I just stop my own mind and make my own

> heart open.

>

>

> Sky

 

 

afteryour jig on the begging streets..

 

and the hurdy-gurdy man above you says:

 

ok monkey..

 

feel good and rest now..

 

there's coins in the can!

 

LOL!

 

..b b.b.

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Egdy sky..

 

you are a fool in love..

 

with your smarmy ass self.

 

ROFLMAO!

 

 

Nisargadatta , " duveyoung " <edg wrote:

>

> Sky,

>

> Yeah, at the ritam level, all of us are dressing ourselves in twigs and

flowers and colored mud.

>

> Even Indra's finery is not more creative -- " the true Artist " is " doing "

everyone's life, and so, yes, Madison Avenue's minds, too, are those of

innocents in creation's wilderness.

>

> The advertising executive with a new idea can be seen as a kid who's proud

about a flower stuck in a mat of hair.

>

> But with these Omo photographs before us, the strut and pomp of corporatedly

contrived beauty comes off as does, say, the " packaged glamor " of JonBenét

Ramsey's costuming and make-up. Her sweet face could not be improved by that

lily-gilding, but these jungle kids actually DO integrate art with innocence --

their natural charm is enhanced -- their beauty is not masked by the layers of

paint, not skewed, not tainted by agenda. They paint themselves to merge into

their environment like chameleons. It's sacred without any need for an outer

stamp of holiness by some approving imprimatur.

>

> Edg

>

> Nisargadatta , " skywhilds " <skywords@> wrote:

> >

> >

> > Waiting to see what the creative destruction has to say about all this...

> >

> > But I freeze framed each shot and shared your meditations before I let you

post them, below. :) You forgot to mention that Madison Ave ain't no better

and no worse, neither, too. It's already always here, in the Now, know.

> >

> > The other thing you forgot :) is that you can feel how much time the

pairs and triads spent in the trance states they put us, too, in, by themselves,

in unimaginable/imaginable intimacy alone together. Thus their art is a measure

of the treasure of the trance pleasure that we Now share. Insured, assured,

sure, for Now.

> >

> >

> >

> >

> > > Thank you, Anabebe57!

> > >

> > > I was blown away by the utter creativity of unfettered minds. The freedom

of composition bespeaks of a purity that is suffocatingly rare in " civilized

life. " When I see the variances from artists such as these and then compare

that to the creativity of Hollywood or the colonic runways of haute couture with

women in outlandish costumes-for-costuming's-sake, it absolutely recalibrates my

marrow. The sheer innocence of these Eden beings shames all modernity's

offerings. Louvre Museum, eat your heart out. Even Mona Lisa's smile cannot

send one's soul the heights that these painted faces can so offhandly lift one

to. Who can see these flowers without being borne aloft?

> > >

> > > What a zombified mob any New York City street presents with its army of

factory-painted clones. Always the mouth is red, always cheeks rosy, and always

the eyes painted like whores -- replicas, duplicates, echoes with no artistic

value.

> > >

> > > The photographer, of course, put these innocents into poses, right? I

mean, it simply can't be that these children of the Earth would be found always

so framable for a cover shot for National Geographic like that Afghanistani

woman with the piercing eyes. But the power of these faces is so complete that

the artifice of the photographer's framing seems at odds with the spontaneity of

these human artworks. I think we might all love the photographer's " outtakes "

more.

> > >

> > > The photographer wants us to see the Noble Savages with hearts so pure

that all relationship between these beings must be also so perfectly framable,

capturable, and plentiful. The photographer would have us believe that these

souls are in a jungle heaven with a perfect culture, a perfect society with

perfect beings. But, no, right? These folks are in their huts complaining

about tribal politics, who owes who a goat, who got mud in the cooking water --

like that. The photographer put these birds of paradise into the camera's cage.

The photographer should have included real life in these compositions -- we

should have seen the squalor, the squabbles, and the scrabblers, and THEN how

their artistry would POP for us all. Then, THEN, when we were able to see vast

hearts blossoming in the mud of a 3rd world lifestlye -- whew, it would be a

humbling tsunami. Then we'd know them and then our tears would never stop.

> > >

> > > Edg

> > >

> >

>

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Ah the Homo People!

 

ROFLMAO!

 

..b b.b.

 

 

 

Nisargadatta , " skywhilds " <skywords wrote:

>

> Edg,

>

> Is it possible, I ask you, Edg, my fine feathered fellow, for you to fly

> with me, yonder, up above, where we both see that you have just sketched

> a very fine nest for us, below? And that those other nests that I am

> sketching, are also pleasant, in their own way. We can nestle in them

> all, as the weather suggests. See the one where the Omo are saying

> exactly the same thing as you are about themselves vs Madison Ave,

> except, with their own touch of self congratulatory self-deprecation?

> Yes, that so endearing self/other deprecation that makes us so

> fleetingly elite amongst the elite in our bitter/sweet musings?

>

> Care to nestle there a bit for the nonce?

>

> Or am I flying too high/low for you/me?

>

> Miles and Miles of High Flighing Smiles

>

> Sky

>

>

>

>

>

>

Sky,

>

> Yeah, at the ritam level, all of us are dressing ourselves in twigs and

> flowers

> and colored mud.

>

> Even Indra's finery is not more creative -- " the true Artist " is " doing "

> everyone's life, and so, yes, Madison Avenue's minds, too, are those of

> innocents in creation's wilderness.

>

> The advertising executive with a new idea can be seen as a kid who's

> proud about

> a flower stuck in a mat of hair.

>

> But with these Omo photographs before us, the strut and pomp of

> corporatedly

> contrived beauty comes off as does, say, the " packaged glamor " of

> JonBenét

> Ramsey's costuming and make-up. Her sweet face could not be improved by

> that

> lily-gilding, but these jungle kids actually DO integrate art with

> innocence --

> their natural charm is enhanced -- their beauty is not masked by the

> layers of

> paint, not skewed, not tainted by agenda. They paint themselves to merge

> into

> their environment like chameleons. It's sacred without any need for an

> outer

> stamp of holiness by some approving imprimatur.

>

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Guest guest

Thank you edg for every word you have written.

 

I absolutely abhor the world that JonBenét's parents created

for her.

 

My daughter loved to play dress up and put on plays for her

family & friends...

 

And if a child has talent... the world will know it like this:

 

Akaine: http://www.artakiane.com/press.htm

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IN5afcbOktU & feature=fvw

 

or http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wfCqpzQSyuQ & feature=related

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nisargadatta , " duveyoung " <edg wrote:

>

> Sky,

>

> Yeah, at the ritam level, all of us are dressing ourselves in twigs and

flowers and colored mud.

>

> Even Indra's finery is not more creative -- " the true Artist " is " doing "

everyone's life, and so, yes, Madison Avenue's minds, too, are those of

innocents in creation's wilderness.

>

> The advertising executive with a new idea can be seen as a kid who's proud

about a flower stuck in a mat of hair.

>

> But with these Omo photographs before us, the strut and pomp of corporatedly

contrived beauty comes off as does, say, the " packaged glamor " of JonBenét

Ramsey's costuming and make-up. Her sweet face could not be improved by that

lily-gilding, but these jungle kids actually DO integrate art with innocence --

their natural charm is enhanced -- their beauty is not masked by the layers of

paint, not skewed, not tainted by agenda. They paint themselves to merge into

their environment like chameleons. It's sacred without any need for an outer

stamp of holiness by some approving imprimatur.

>

> Edg

>

> Nisargadatta , " skywhilds " <skywords@> wrote:

> >

> >

> > Waiting to see what the creative destruction has to say about all this...

> >

> > But I freeze framed each shot and shared your meditations before I let you

post them, below. :) You forgot to mention that Madison Ave ain't no better

and no worse, neither, too. It's already always here, in the Now, know.

> >

> > The other thing you forgot :) is that you can feel how much time the

pairs and triads spent in the trance states they put us, too, in, by themselves,

in unimaginable/imaginable intimacy alone together. Thus their art is a measure

of the treasure of the trance pleasure that we Now share. Insured, assured,

sure, for Now.

> >

> >

> >

> >

> > > Thank you, Anabebe57!

> > >

> > > I was blown away by the utter creativity of unfettered minds. The freedom

of composition bespeaks of a purity that is suffocatingly rare in " civilized

life. " When I see the variances from artists such as these and then compare

that to the creativity of Hollywood or the colonic runways of haute couture with

women in outlandish costumes-for-costuming's-sake, it absolutely recalibrates my

marrow. The sheer innocence of these Eden beings shames all modernity's

offerings. Louvre Museum, eat your heart out. Even Mona Lisa's smile cannot

send one's soul the heights that these painted faces can so offhandly lift one

to. Who can see these flowers without being borne aloft?

> > >

> > > What a zombified mob any New York City street presents with its army of

factory-painted clones. Always the mouth is red, always cheeks rosy, and always

the eyes painted like whores -- replicas, duplicates, echoes with no artistic

value.

> > >

> > > The photographer, of course, put these innocents into poses, right? I

mean, it simply can't be that these children of the Earth would be found always

so framable for a cover shot for National Geographic like that Afghanistani

woman with the piercing eyes. But the power of these faces is so complete that

the artifice of the photographer's framing seems at odds with the spontaneity of

these human artworks. I think we might all love the photographer's " outtakes "

more.

> > >

> > > The photographer wants us to see the Noble Savages with hearts so pure

that all relationship between these beings must be also so perfectly framable,

capturable, and plentiful. The photographer would have us believe that these

souls are in a jungle heaven with a perfect culture, a perfect society with

perfect beings. But, no, right? These folks are in their huts complaining

about tribal politics, who owes who a goat, who got mud in the cooking water --

like that. The photographer put these birds of paradise into the camera's cage.

The photographer should have included real life in these compositions -- we

should have seen the squalor, the squabbles, and the scrabblers, and THEN how

their artistry would POP for us all. Then, THEN, when we were able to see vast

hearts blossoming in the mud of a 3rd world lifestlye -- whew, it would be a

humbling tsunami. Then we'd know them and then our tears would never stop.

> > >

> > > Edg

> > >

> >

>

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Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana wrote:

>

> Just sharing some artwork and music this Sunday morning. Enjoy!

>

>

>

Namaste,

 

Bower Bird, Omo, Ericson, or any architect or painter...all the same.

Just the consciousness expressing itself,,,,no comparison better or worse

apply.............Tony

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Nisargadatta , " Tony OClery " <aoclery wrote:

 

Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana@> wrote:

>

> Just sharing some artwork and music this Sunday morning. Enjoy!

>

>

>

Namaste,

 

Bower Bird, Omo, Ericson, or any architect or painter...all the same.

Just the consciousness expressing itself,,,,no comparison better or worse

apply.............

--- End forwarded message ---

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Nisargadatta , " roberibus111 " <Roberibus111 wrote:

>

> Ah the Homo People!

>

> ROFLMAO!

>

> .b b.b.

 

 

 

 

a singular event!

 

LOL!

 

..b b.b.

 

 

 

 

 

> Nisargadatta , " skywhilds " <skywords@> wrote:

> >

> > Edg,

> >

> > Is it possible, I ask you, Edg, my fine feathered fellow, for you to fly

> > with me, yonder, up above, where we both see that you have just sketched

> > a very fine nest for us, below? And that those other nests that I am

> > sketching, are also pleasant, in their own way. We can nestle in them

> > all, as the weather suggests. See the one where the Omo are saying

> > exactly the same thing as you are about themselves vs Madison Ave,

> > except, with their own touch of self congratulatory self-deprecation?

> > Yes, that so endearing self/other deprecation that makes us so

> > fleetingly elite amongst the elite in our bitter/sweet musings?

> >

> > Care to nestle there a bit for the nonce?

> >

> > Or am I flying too high/low for you/me?

> >

> > Miles and Miles of High Flighing Smiles

> >

> > Sky

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> >

> > Sky,

> >

> > Yeah, at the ritam level, all of us are dressing ourselves in twigs and

> > flowers

> > and colored mud.

> >

> > Even Indra's finery is not more creative -- " the true Artist " is " doing "

> > everyone's life, and so, yes, Madison Avenue's minds, too, are those of

> > innocents in creation's wilderness.

> >

> > The advertising executive with a new idea can be seen as a kid who's

> > proud about

> > a flower stuck in a mat of hair.

> >

> > But with these Omo photographs before us, the strut and pomp of

> > corporatedly

> > contrived beauty comes off as does, say, the " packaged glamor " of

> > JonBenét

> > Ramsey's costuming and make-up. Her sweet face could not be improved by

> > that

> > lily-gilding, but these jungle kids actually DO integrate art with

> > innocence --

> > their natural charm is enhanced -- their beauty is not masked by the

> > layers of

> > paint, not skewed, not tainted by agenda. They paint themselves to merge

> > into

> > their environment like chameleons. It's sacred without any need for an

> > outer

> > stamp of holiness by some approving imprimatur.

> >

>

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Nisargadatta , " Tony OClery " <aoclery wrote:

>

> Nisargadatta , " anabebe57 " <kailashana@> wrote:

> >

> > Just sharing some artwork and music this Sunday morning. Enjoy!

> >

> >

> >

> Namaste,

>

> Bower Bird, Omo, Ericson, or any architect or painter...all the same.

> Just the consciousness expressing itself,,,,no comparison better or worse

apply.............>

 

 

Then you don't have a problem with Sai Baba any more?

 

EH??????

 

~A

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