Here it comes again.
Over and over, all is thrown up, stark against the Sky.
On landing, reassembled in a new and curious shape.
Spread out thin across the constant, living, Ground.
Before I get a chance to catch my breath
It comes again.
These seismic shifts create a chaos and confusion that can only be allowed for,
Such is its Might and Power.
There is no rider. No helmsman. No pilot. No driver.
All sense of knowing as fragile as the new leaves that burst out all around.
Only fierce Love to hold on to in turbulent Times like these.
Kat Robertson. April 2021.
(video created by scattering mustard seed on the skin of a drum and banging it. Audio only what resulted when the video was slowed down.)
My oldest son was taken into hospital this week and required emergency surgery to remove adhesions on his gut, so all in all a very worrying time.
Feeling somewhat lost and all ‘washed up’ I turned to my mandalas this March.
The process comforting and, sometimes, rewarding.
Exploring new ways to construct them, to somehow loosen the geometric hold of them, all the while procrastinating, putting off more serious commitments.
Quite a crop!
Some are more satisfiying than others…..
(click on first image in each gallery to view full size with title)
wet willow mandalas
I saw my first bumble bee this month enjoying the shining crocuses golden pollen!
random one off mandalas
Decided that to compare techniques I’d make a selection using the same image. I have always found mosses and lichens to be a favorite form to mandalize and very plentiful here.
A daffodil is the perfect natural, 6 point, ‘flower of life’ mandala anyway!
I find more Beauty in the real flower than could ever be contained in these artifical, symmetrical, manipulated forms though …… yup, having a mandala crisis too!!!
Trying, or rather, not trying!, to loosen up my thinking and letting my mind enter the cosmic whirls of time and being and translate that into images….playing with symbols that arise… and working into centre.
Loosing sight of outcomes.
Circles within circles.
Pushing out, pushing in, in so many directions.
Only ever opening.
A forces created ‘bubble’,
Popping, diminishing into a wider sphere.
Witnessing until all annulus, the space between concentric circles,
ready to burst with knowing.
Like atom, earth, nucleus.
Mysterious and magnetic.
Pushes and pulls inside too.
Infinite looping bringing constantly to balance.
Spiralling wisdoms bursting forth to nowhere.
Rippling, as water.
Particulate as Earth,
and consuming as Fire.
Sub-bass, merging, understandings, bouncing particles activated, spiralling, both up and down,
A nerve-full spine, branching tree-form, simultaneously,
Worked to be here.
Work to be done here.
Rested to be here.
Rest to be found here.
Only know this place.
This point on the axis.
The almighty all-of-it revolves around as far as heart can feel and far beyond.
Always changing yet here nothing has changed.
No thing most of the time.
Sometimes sparkling brilliantly, but mostly not…
Bursting, but frightened of breaking it.
Pin prick middle of a tiny, orbiting, sphere.
Like a distant planet in another social solar system.
Asking to get off the train before it arrives at its destination,
stepping off and only floating.
The tracks, long ago, dissolved in the mist.
Sitting down to grow a crust-like shell and weave a dense, cocoon, full of stories and shadows.
Refracting the light.
Pulling toward me accusations of wasting time.
Pushing away the very idea that is what I am doing with it.
Like an aperture,
Kat Robertson October 2018
Could be a way of creating paintings…..I like all the creases of light and shade.