Reveal thy Radiant Countenance

Reveal thy Radiant Countenance by ArtfulAlchemist on Polyvore.com

What masks are hiding the shining brightness that is you?

In this life, we hide behind many masks.

When we grieve, we often feel we must hide behind a smiling “I’m okay” mask, sensing that our friends, family and other associates are not comfortable with the depth of our pain. We are not comfortable with their discomfort and the responses triggered by that discomfort, so we put on the mask.

Sometimes, we even try to hide the full depth of our grief from ourselves. Fearing its power, we are not willing to risk drowning in a bottomless well of tears. We are not willing to sit with our pain on its own terms. So we find a way to suck it up or dam it up. We put on a mask.

The paradox is that by not honoring the truth of our pain in the moment, we are at risk of internalizing and unconsciously identifying so deeply with it that it develops a life of its own. Some, including Eckhart Tolle, have called the unconscious internal energy that develops the Pain Body. (See a great explanation of the Pain Body and how to deal with it here.)

The Pain Body can take over, masking our true identity, tricking us into believing that pain is our reality or our identity. We think we are wearing an “I’m okay” mask, but it is the Pain Body that’s really masking our own true Light.

The Sufi poet Hafiz said, "I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing Light of your own Being."

That is also my wish for you. May your own Pain Body be dissolved, may the mask fall away, and may you reveal your true radiant countenance to yourself and to the world.

My inner castle holds . . .

My inner castle holds . . . by ArtfulAlchemist on Polyvore.com

My inner castle holds
ancient wounds
and ancient histories
mysteries
older than the sands of time

I came here with my work boots on
to dig down through
the timeworn layers
of the pyramid self
back down to the bones
the ancient circle of standing stones
my origins
my Truth

Most masks have fallen away
yet still today
secrets lie
behind fortressed gates
waiting for me
to turn the key
and set the child
completely free

My Wild Things,
benevolently and loosely ruled,
have found a place
to safely roam
their color and form
dancing through unlined pages
filling book after book
with my own
Sacred Story

Now
for every fallen or broken heart
I find a dozen more in the sand
and the one that beats
in my chest is bound
and balanced
dancing between
the falling apart
and the coming together
destruction and creation
and all of it Love

In the end
which is the beginning
what remains is the sea
and the ever blooming tree
that is Life

~Claire, the Artful Alchemist

Nesting

As women, we tend to be good "nesters." We are the keepers of home and hearth, the moms, the nurturers. We create a comfortable nest for those we love. We also create a comfortable nest for our dreams - feathering it just so, admiring the egg(s) we place there to germinate and gestate. Every so often, we take out one of our dream eggs, blow the dust off of it and sigh with longing, imagining what it would be like to live that dream life. The problem is that we're such good "nesters" we may never allow our dream eggs to hatch. We grow so enamored of the egg - the idea, the dream, the ideal - that we avoid the hard work of birthing.

You've all heard the expression, "you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs," right? Well, you can't birth your dream(s) without letting the shell crack open. There is a time for gestation and a time for birth - action, forward motion, risk, adventure, unfolding. Don't hold your dreams so close that they become stillborn.

Here is an art piece and a poem that captures this idea. Actually, it's what triggered this blog post . . .

Nesting by ArtfulAlchemist featuring Miss Selfridge rings

genesis
by Claire M. Perkins

behold!

dawn's prism fractures the night
spills color and life
through your once dark world
reveals what's been
too long hidden
beneath your ruffled breast

it is time, Little One

warm your nest no longer
stand aside and
reveal its gem-laden mystery
allow the shattering shell
to scatter its jewels
they are but dull paste
to the genesis that awaits
~~~

to dance with the wind . . .

to dance with the wind by ArtfulAlchemist on Polyvore.com

I've always had an affinity for trees. They seem so wise and magical. They are rooted in the earth while reaching into the sky, the perfect blend of physical and spiritual. They embody what I long for in my life. I wrote some time ago (full post here) of a summer thunderstorm and how the trees gyrate in ecstasy with the winds, reveling in the chaos even though it may be their demise.

There's a wildness in me that longs to dance with the wind the way the trees do. That longing is what I tried to capture in the image. Oh, the freedom of that! To simply sway and bend - perhaps even be lifted up into flight. To be in the dance instead of on the sidelines trying to choreograph. To just BE. To dance with the wind . . .

Art Therapy Pieces in Support of Haiti

A number of artists at Polyvore.com have been creating art sets in support of Haiti. Click on any image to see it larger. Please give what you can.

HAITI

ART PEACE SUSTAINABILITY

Can art therapy be done online with digital images? I say, "You bet!"

After reading this article on the ART PEACE SUSTAINABILITY global digital art (therapy) event, I took the challenge, set up my Polyvore account, and created this entry for the project, entitled "This is what you shall do":

This is what you shall do by ArtfulAlchemist on Polyvore.com

It was an amazingly therapeutic exercise for me, stretching me into a new kind of media I'd never explored before. I found it a bit confusing at the outset, as Polyvore is primarily a fashionista kind of site, but once I figured out where to import some backgrounds and other kinds of images, it came together pretty easily.

Why don't you try your hand at it? I'd love to see the results!