Bull Manifesting In The vortex Of Creation Painting

I ground my feet on the earth while my head is in the sky, connecting me simultaneously with Mother Earth and Spirit, opening doors to higher forms in the realm of Consciousness. Receiving images and ideas about shapes and techniques, and in some unknown way, listening to a whisper that tells me how to begin and develop a new body of work, a new painting... As I prepare for a new artistic endeavor, I feel this incredible excitement, this energy growing inside of me that gives me an inevitable date against the clock ––a date with the canvas, a date with my fate. I take the time needed to contemplate, internalize and integrate what is taking place at that moment in the abyss of Being, in my elusive here and now: the intimate Tango between Spirit and Form, the luscious brush strokes, markings and colors of my late creative paintings, feel like bitting into a sensuous, very juicy, mango. With fake patience I wait until I can no longer wait... Then, suddenly, like a volcano that can no longer retain the liquid rock inside, a frantic-yet-controlled eruption, that only yields when the volcano empties itself of what it had to say, or do. My first bursts of eager streaks onto the canvas only stop until my hands feel apeased and my Spirit at peace. Many, many hours (months and years in some paintings)can elapse until the painting is finally satisfied and becomes silent, showing off what it so eagerly wanted to express. Then there are my paints: a micro-universe of colorful tubes and flasks that are always ready to become my acompliceses. I love their loyal attitude and empathy! I look at them and, suddenly, I start "seeing" ideas of forms and shapes, colors and combinations, an amazing array of possibilities...I look again and now it is not about tubes and flasks, but about feeling my connection with Spirit, guiding me, inspiring me as I paint. I feel in total awe as creative energy is flowing through me, manifesting right in front of my eyes: Characters, shapes and forms start appearing as I summon them with my squinting eyes and my open heart. A sense of the inevitable, of being in the movement of the cosmic necessity, of creating what I am doing, starts emerging in the painting as colors start flowing and touching each other: Connecting.