Buddhism, Evolution, Language, poetry, Shamanism, spirituality, The Shaman, Zen
Sometimes the image has little to do with the words that follow, but are included because of a certain evocativeness. I love tracks and pathways as invitations to the adventure, the unexpected and unknown. This one was shot in the East Los Angeles warehouse district.
Anyway, to the journal extract:
The phrase “I love Life in all its flow and growth,” came to mind, but it seemed a little more effective in its first incarnation, which I’ve forgotten. Everything points back to our origins in the animal world and our full and unalloyed participation with it. We developed the ability to hold on to a thought and that uncanny never-before adaptation changed everything on planet earth. From its simple beginnings aiding tiny tribes transmit their heritage and rudimentary technical knowledge to all we experience today isn’t much of a stretch. And the holding on to images and ideas engenders another player as well, the one who is conversant in the psycho-spiritual gravity of the images, the Shaman. He it is who plumbs the depths of the images’ emotional and psychological content and fashions a ritual that will translate the deepest mysteries of the Living Flow into the language of the tribe or peoples in order for them to remain connected and centred in their everyday lives.
But in being conversant in those images he is frequently separated and suspect in the eyes of the common man. He seems to have dominion over the energies of the natural world and hence is feared as well.
What is this thing I do? And why have I spent my entire life chasing after it? Be that as it may, it continues unabated, undaunted. The words flow a little slower. The passion has subsided somewhat. But I am left alone and even more resolved than ever before to follow this through to the end.