Going to See the Taoist Elder Zhenying at Mount Emei
Freed by his virtue, this old friend of mine
Trusts in the Way and delights in woods and streams.
While sitting in meditation
He journeys to the land of no more doubts.
While living in the discipline of poverty
He attains everything valuable under heaven.
He breathes and dissolves the barriers between distance and time.
He writes and his brush penetrates clouds and smoke.
With an impulsive laugh he dismisses doctrinal conundrums.
With habitual failure to distinguish shallow from deep
He achieves Chan. – Master Hsu Yun
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Work in progress: Contemplating Buddha
From a series I am doing on the Buddha. This was the first one; there are others I am working on. I find it kinda funny that the meditative state is much like the fugue that I enter into when I am painting.
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Painting like a mad man for the last week or so. I have been working with some new concepts (at least for me) and I find it all a bit liberating. When you check out the section on the South East Art Walk, you’ll see a couple of more pictures… Anyway, I have been having fun with it, and I really enjoy breaking out of my boundaries. It has inspired me to explore print making again, on fabric and paper as well. We will see.
I believe there is a masterpiece of sorts dwelling within everyone, whether it be poetry, art, a building of the future for the commons, or a singular blazing act of love. I have often thought the we are all parts of something greater, a spirit the entwines over generations, striving for the great act, the union fulfilled. I look back across the waves of time, and what survives? At first I see the stories, tales, and the remnants of our ancestors endeavors. Yet, there is something deeper. Each person that is alive today, was given a gift of life, through acts of love and kindness from untold waves of generation. Each child is a masterwork; crafted by DNA, circumstance, environment, and dreams.
The world we are birthing will be our part of the masterpiece; what we do here and now for others in our lives, for the community, and generations yet to be born.
Can we add clarity to this work of art for our passing through time?
Bright Blessings,
Gwyllm
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On The Menu:
South East Art Walk!
Music Composed With Windows 98 & XP Sounds
The Tiger, The Brahman & The Jackal
The Poetry of Master Hsu Yun
Music Composed With XP & Vista System Sounds
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South East Art Walk
Info on the whole event here: South East Art Walk
So, we are doing it again this year. Paul Hoagland our friend is joining us with his pottery this Saturday & Sunday the 5th & 6th between 10am-5pm at Caer Llwydd (email me for the address if you don’t know it contact me at: llwydd at symbol earthrites.org)
I have some 20 new paintings, affordably priced, as well as art encrusted furniture, prints and more! Paul’s pottery is very cool, and well done. He will have a very nice selection of his work.. and we will be introducing our new line of Poetry Post for installation at your house, business or communal space.
Come by just to say hello!
Some Examples of Paul’s Work:
I love his gourd work; his glazes are truly wonderful…
Paul does lots of work that is Japanese influenced….
Some of my new Work:
Dharma-2010 Playing on a long going theme that I come back to again and again…
Mister Gandhi I Presume… I have been reading his works again.
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Music Composed With Windows 98 & XP Sounds
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The Tiger, The Brahman & The Jackal
Once upon a time, a tiger was caught in a trap. He tried in vain to get out through the bars, and rolled and bit with rage and grief when he failed.
By chance a poor Brahman came by.
“Let me out of this cage, oh pious one!” cried the tiger.
“Nay, my friend,” replied the Brahman mildly, “you would probably eat me if I did.”
“Not at all!” swore the tiger with many oaths; “on the contrary, I should be for ever grateful, and serve you as a slave!”
Now when the tiger sobbed and sighed and wept and swore, the pious Brahman’s heart softened, and at last he consented to open the door of the cage. Out popped the tiger, and, seizing the poor man, cried, “What a fool you are! What is to prevent my eating you now, for after being cooped up so long I am just terribly hungry!”
In vain the Brahman pleaded for his life; the most he could gain was a promise to abide by the decision of the first three things he chose to question as to the justice of the tiger’s action.
So the Brahman first asked a papal- tree what it thought of the matter, but the papal-tree replied coldly, “What have you to complain about? Don’t I give shade and shelter to every one who passes by, and don’t they in return tear down my branches to feed their cattle? Don’t whimper–be a man!”
Then the Brahman, sad at heart, went further afield till he saw a buffalo turning a well-wheel; but he fared no better from it, for it answered, “You are a fool to expect gratitude! Look at me! Whilst I gave milk they fed me on cotton-seed and oil-cake, but now I am dry they yoke me here, and give me refuse as fodder!”
The Brahman, still more sad, asked the road to give him its opinion.
“My dear sir,” said the road, “how foolish you are to expect anything else! Here am I, useful to everybody, yet all, rich and poor, great and small, trample on me as they go past, giving me nothing but the ashes of their pipes and the husks of their grain!”
On this the Brahman turned back sorrowfully, and on the way he met a jackal, who called out, “Why, what’s the matter, Mr. Brahman? You look as miserable as a fish out of water!”
The Brahman told him all that had occurred. “How very confusing!” said the jackal, when the recital was ended; “would you mind telling me over again, for everything has got so mixed up?”
The Brahman told it all over again, but the jackal shook his head in a distracted sort of way, and still could not understand.
“It’s very odd,” said he, sadly, “but it all seems to go in at one ear and out at the other! I will go to the place where it all happened, and then perhaps I shall be able to give a judgment.”
So they returned to the cage, by which the tiger was waiting for the Brahman, and sharpening his teeth and claws;
“You’ve been away a long time!” growled the savage beast, “but now let us begin our dinner.”
“Our dinner!” thought the wretched Brahman, as his knees knocked together with fright; “what a remarkably delicate way of putting it!”
“Give me five minutes, my lord!” he pleaded, “in order that I may explain matters to the jackal here, who is somewhat slow in his wits.”
The tiger consented, and the Brahman began the whole story over again, not missing a single detail, and spinning as long a yarn as possible.
“Oh, my poor brain! oh, my poor brain!” cried the jackal, wringing its paws. “Let me see! how did it all begin? You were in the cage, and the tiger came walking by–”
“Pooh!” interrupted the tiger, “what a fool you are! I was in the cage.”
“Of course! ” cried the jackal, pretending to tremble with fright; “yes! I was in the cage–no I wasn’t–dear! dear! where are my wits? Let me see–the tiger was in the Brahman, and the cage came walking by–no, that’s not it, either! Well, don’t mind me, but begin your dinner, for I shall never understand!”
“Yes, you shall!” returned the tiger, in a rage at the jackal’s stupidity; “I’ll make you understand! Look here–I am the tiger–”
“Yes, my lord! ”
“And that is the Brahman–”
“Yes, my lord!”
“And that is the cage–”
“Yes, my lord!”
“And I was in the cage–do you understand?”
“Yes–no – Please, my lord–”
“Well? ” cried the tiger impatiently.
“Please, my lord!–how did you get in?”
“How!–why in the usual way, of course!”
“Oh, dear me!–my head is beginning to whirl again! Please don’t be angry, my lord, but what is the usual way?”
At this the tiger lost patience, and, jumping into the cage, cried, “This way! Now do you understand how it was?”
“Perfectly! ” grinned the jackal, as he dexterously shut the door, “and if you will permit me to say so, I think matters will remain as they were!”
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The Poetry of Master Hsu Yun
Going Beyond Desire
Striving to leave the wilderness
You become part of what’s wild.
Striving to cease grasping
Is, itself, grasping.
So how do you gain control and get beyond desire?
Open those eyes… the ones that were born in your own skull.
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An Exquisite Truth
This is an exquisite truth:
Saints and ordinary folks are the same from the start.
Inquiring about a difference
Is like asking to borrow string when you’ve got a good strong rope.
Every Dharma is known in the heart.
After a rain, the mountain colors intensify.
Once you become familiar with the design of fate’s illusions
Your ink-well will contain all of life and death.
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Searching For The Dharma
You’ve traveled up ten thousand steps in search of the Dharma.
So many long days in the archives, copying, copying.
The gravity of the Tang and the profundity of the Sung make heavy baggage.
Here! I’ve picked you a bunch of wildflowers.
Their meaning is the same
but they’re much easier to carry.
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The Barking Dog
We went up across the ridge for the fun of it.
Didn’t need to pack any more wine.
On the precipice, flowers opened, smiling.
By the river, willows grew bright.
In the drizzling rain the village smoke congealed, concealed.
The wind was slight and the grass was cool.
There in the woods’ underbrush, startled,
We suddenly heard a dog bark.
It wanted us to know the Master was aware.
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Feelings on Remembering the Day I first Produced the Mind
Drawn some sixty years ago by karma
I turned life upside down
And climbed straight on to lofty summits.
Between my eyes a hanging sword,
The Triple World is pure.
Empty-handed, I hold a hoe, clearing a galaxy.
As the ‘Ocean of the Knowing-mind’ dries up,
Pearls shine forth by themselves;
Space smashed to dust, a moon hangs independent.
I threw my net through Heaven,
Caught the dragon and the phoenix;
Alone I walk through the cosmos,
Connecting the past and its people.
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Ten Thousand Buddha Mountain – Red Flower Grotto
This place used to be called Red Flower Grotto.
Now it’s called Ten Thousand Buddha Mountain.
Visitors come here to play chess
And listen to the pouring rain safe inside their plaited huts.
The beauty of a thousand peaks still fills this grotto.
Streams flow into it and pools turn nine times as they form.
In the countryside nearby, tigers prowl.
Above, the pines jut into the sky just as they did in the days of Han.
The Spirit Dragon flies around through the dark rain.
But only white ghostly visions dance through the Chan gate of Awakening.
The Sangha gather beyond the boundary of the blue sky.
The Sangha spend their leisure with the white clouds.
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Writing a Chant Poem on Fu Guo Dreaming of the Ocean
Poems express a person’s feelings
And this can cause both profit or loss.
A teacher uses allegory to convey meaning.
And metaphor makes it easier to speak his truth.
So this moldy old man uses pen and ink for his explanations.
All my life I’ve been foolish and dull.
Sometimes I look at something and I think it’s so wonderful.
And then I realize I was pointing out a fact
That was as obvious as the moon.
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Music Composed With XP & Vista System Sounds