[the illusion of union] Painting

inspired by finding a thread of thoughtless flow in the midst of utter chaos, experiencing bliss within regardless of what is without lots of texture and nuances of color and pattern; dixie plate used to add greater 3-D element Stumbling along the beach, Feet slowly dragging Through the sand, Drunk. But not off the sweet Density of alcohol. In a stupor. Scrambling to catch hold of Something stationary in the Violent tempest of my reality. Possibility thrust open, blown in My face so hard that it Became one with my soul in an Instant And in the same motion Possibility ripped away, Closed Like a door in the face, The wind from the force of the slam Blowing back my hair And tickling my eyebrows Eyes blinking. Left alone to make sense of The silence, of the vacancy That was not one moment prior Filled Utterly Totally Two totatlities merged With such beauty and precision And then ripped apart With such force as to Leave what amount of Imaginable wreckage in their wake? Who knows… Because of choice. Because of fear. Because of the Loops and cycles And dramas of Our lives we Are destined to Play out? But where does Choice enter? Freedom? The freedom to choose to break Your self-created shackles Made of iron fetters forged By expectation and assumption? Assumption of circumstances, Of things you do not know Or understand for the things Themselves but only for what You perceive them to be In your performance of yet another Role? A role in which you act For another. Are you writing the script? Have you designed this scene? Or are you playing it out as you feel you’ve been Cast? Misunderstanding the cycle you are perpetuating, And I ache. As I enter a cycle I so Consciously attempted to Avoid - And in doing so, Wrought on the very Object of my avoidance. Foresight always lends To the fulfillment of time And time’s tricks, does it not? So you are choosing to Take on another play - Your own? Can it be? Whose? For whom do you Make this choice? Surely not for you? Or is that my own Disgusting mind gearing up for Defense of understanding? As I enter another loop of Invisibility, seeing it all Play out before it occurs, Disallowing experience of an Other to reveal it to him In due time, in due method; Screaming from behind a soundproof, one-way mirror, Banging on the walls, shouting, Crying, sinking to the floor in Unconditional surrender, Left again without the Power to be heard, to be Felt, to be understood, To be RECEIVED. Again, am I leaving so soon - Am I having to leave again so soon - Only the self can receive the self - Though I thought you were An extension of that as The sun is an extension of the Moon, tumbling with one Another to balance the night And day, the land and the Water, the universe poised Between them - For them, By them… As the night sky Becomes an extension of the Morning, lights another day As stars dot the cosmos Above, one bleeding into the Other, endless, black, At play, at mischief, at the Illusion of union. Is that all that exists here? The illusion of union? Is that all that’s left? Is that all there was? And I’m back to my drunken Stupor and shuffling, dead Or dying on the wet sand. You weren’t real all along. The pendulum of trust in self Swings both ways And I have yet to discern Which stroke is the right Stroke. Which swing do I cling to With relentless, Unforgiving knowing? I have chosen incorrectly Again, And I will choose Incorrectly a thousand Times more as I orient My landing gear toward the Surface of my own soul. A lesson in acceptance A lesson in dissipating Anger and hurt and Pride and self- Righteousness A less in detachment - Both by necessity And choice, though It is difficult to embrace the Reality of the latter in the Freshness of the moment. I leave it all for the waves. The formidable currents Beneath sucking everything Out to sea, out to that Abyss in the night, Out to that place where The sky and the horizon Seemingly merge, Out to the place where I met you Gone Disappearing as the illusion it was With the rising of the sun, Disentangled from The moon - at last, Again, Already. My drunken stupor over As I walk Surefooted and forcefully Back across the sand From whence I came.

Multi-paneled Painting:Acrylic on Canvas

Original:One-of-a-kind Artwork

Size:16 W x 40 H x 0.5 D in

Number of Panels:2

Delivery Time:Typically 5-7 business days for domestic shipments, 10-14 business days for international shipments.