The feeling of not being able to stop thinking and just having the head fill up more and more with thoughts feels a bit like dragging oneself through a vast garbage dump. One only has a very faint reminiscence of some kind of rootedness. Mother earth feels very far away. However, if we only let go of our thoughts just for a second, we can feel how we are deeply fused with the rest of the universe!
Oil on linen canvas, 4 x 6ft, 2010
I AM A SPROUT. (a poem I wrote inspired by this painting)
I am a sprout.
Sprouting is my daily job,
Shooting upwards to pierce the open virginal sky.
My underside however likes to investigate various hidden smells and textures.
It likes to reach downwards to where its moist and warm and undefined,
to where all shapes and colors surrender,
surrender to the gravitational pull of harmony.
The wind is caressing my rosy nipples and the heavens are reflecting,
reflecting all their accumulated information in turn onto my white skin.
Youth’s job is to move upward.
Old age’s is to move down- and inward towards its own reflection.
I do both.
Spending time in consideration of upwardness, might feel less threatening to some of us,
less worrisome than imagining the various subliminal possibilities of invasion.
Fear of adulteration seems very real!
No matter, my fingers will keep digging.