Today is a cold and rainy day, i hope you are all doing ok and keeping warm.
God djing to the angels, in one of my visions. Lucidly ethereal and soul piercing music.
We think we know everything, the way the cosmos should be A lilting music starts And we are someplace else Only we are aware Of how powerful music is And God is.
Hair braided in white, Sitting in meditation. Our soul is within And in front of us Our chi is collected Shimmering in the colours Of the aurora borealis We disperse.
Seventh month is the month is Singapore where people remember the dead and give offerings. It is said that on the seventh lunar month, the gates of hell open and the ghosts are free to return and roam the earth. Also known as Zhong Yuan Jie 中元节.
This drawing is dedicated to my neighbour that sadly decided to leave this world at a young age.
I paste my artwork on the wall outside my house But you are not here to share it with me, when you walk down the corridor. Its the seventh month, but i can’t feel any ghosts, only light. I almost died But you actually died In all my years rooftopping i never fell. If it is a matter of luck, we could trade places. Maybe if my artwork had been on the wall sooner, we might have talked and said hello. I don’t understand, in my life i met so many people to help, But i didn’t know you. The Gods gave us different paths, even though we live on the same floor. Standing above a city of lights, I have landed. You have landed as well. Hopefully somewhere better. I will pray for you. This drawing is for us. You’re dead I’m alive. We can look at the lights of the city together From the floor we live on.
Wu wei, wu wei It is whispered to us gently. We have to let go, in order to kick We have to release, in order to achieve. Balance is perfect symmetry with the universe We are one, but in one-we are many.
A stroke of ink, Hair falling softly, Is it a mountain pass, Or a step, I stumble, A wave of black ocean, The road is long Even for immortals Only one’s light Can lead the way.
In the eaves of night, A full moon illuminates chance, A scroll unrolled, The words of life and death tumble and fall. God shines brighter than the moon, Walking soundlessly in a garden That no longer can be found Am i waiting for you Or are you waiting for me
Resting in each other’s arms, the God and Goddess aspect uniting under the chalice of life. Seated on wings, lifted by a blue aura of protection, concealed in the void.
Hey everyone, i hope you are all well ! It is a rainy day here, even though we are in the midst of Summer. It is a really cool day. I hope you are all doing ok.
This is a really small drawing, but somehow describes me very well. In motion to place a scroll on the shelf. I am always inbetween books and this describes it very well. There is a small bottle on the shelf. I don’t know if i meant it to be perfume, an incense burner, or a bottle of immortal elixir ! The scroll that has been unrolled in my hand feels as if i am lost in thought
This is a small but classic painting on a chinese silk fan. It is a mini self-portrait of drinking from the cup of immortality with a hidden soul ingredient and the apparition of God. Probably one of the more personal paintings i have done. I have not yet carried this fan outside with me but hope to one day.
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