brushstroke

1st miksang

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1st brush stroke

i am humbly displaying the result of my very first lesson in brushstroke. here you see a point, an ichi, and an enzo.

the practice of brushstroke has been one of the most profound earthly humanizing experiences of this agreement of molecules called elliott-not-elliott. (the awesome community here is working on the gender queer pronoun gamble and even calling me that whole hyphenated name. sweet!)

in brushstroke practice, what’s up is space or noumenon. traditionally translated as heaven. it’s all around yet “empty”. (discussion of how to define empty another night.)  what’s down is earth or phenomenon. it’s full, dense, touching. what’s in the middle, and yet a result of ‘heaven’ and ‘earth’, is human.

in the act of brushstroke — the space is what it is, the paper is earth, and the brush, the brushstroke, and the one brushing are at once the unifier — human — the spontaneous result of heaven contacting earth.

since my very first lesson, i have been embodying this metaphor to an inconceivable degree. as an artist, it is as if i have never seen or felt the weight of a brush… or water… or ink… or paper. (i am only truly practicing lines- not even documented on the above example. oh and… in brushstroke, one is considered a beginner for at least 10 years! i’m in for life! this practice is “my” practice/my thing/my work… what haveyha.)

today, the practice was so moving it is rattling my being-ness, my -image of the mind- also known as my body… my life. the approach of the brush bristles to the paper… the brush and bristles looked so sexy. and the contact. i felt the orgasmic seriousness of sex, as if a child or STD or shattered personality could result from the consequences. and here’s the gem for “me”. ready? after 20 consecutive years of near daily struggle with suicide ideation… choosing… relentlessly thinking i was choosing life again and again – a new level of understanding dropped in.

i’m almost one year old from when i put down the seeming constant struggle with suicide. yet today, as i made sex and life with the brushstroke, i imagined stopping the stroke before the end. and i got the tragedy if it. it is not heady or intellectual for me! thank godessa or whatever you thank! i am deep in my emotional body in this retreat. finally!!! thank you suchness!!! and so, the value of the completion of the brushstroke, the having to follow through with the consequences of the union of love-making with heaven and earth was so full-on.

the consequences of not completing a stroke are understood through work with particular tasty concepts of Jo, Ha and Kyu. i’ll discuss them another time. not sure what else i can articulate presently. (it’s all a masking of suchness i know- just sayin’- this is the way the propelling of heaven and earth have appeared in this form called elliott-not elliott)

much love & good night.

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7 Responses to “brushstroke”

  1. Amy Says:

    i love you elliott-not-elliott

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