and now for something completely crazy! Bear with me dear bloggers and friends for a little journey to who knows where – in my third processing for Robyn Gosby’s One Four Challenge!
Though I love monochrome and was heading that way I had a minor electrified epiphany and changed direction!! I felt the music, so I used my galactic art brush (I’ve begun making my own brushes), a blurred layer, a touch of fractal -my third eye and Beethoven!
______And so for the storytellers among us- a story inspired by the photo______
A Transcendental Concert at Craigflower Farm
It occurred without warning as I sat under the old oak tree. At a moment’s exhale the poppy field awoke electrified. In the dusk it had become a symphony and the concert performance was Beethoven’s Seventh!
At the second blast of the First Movement my body quivered and my flesh crumbled like clay. I was the earth – the garden, through which an invisible conductor beckoned forth those flickering green filaments before they burst into trumpet radiance. “The fire became the rose” as Fellini had once said -or was it the other way around? I had a moment’s fear and looked up into the holy sanctuary of sky but my tongue was rooted and I was unable to pray.
Suddenly, in a surge of vivace, the ground released me. I was the prayer -flung like a shooting star into the resonating hymn of the universe as it curved toward the event horizon! Far galaxies whirled like dervishes as the Second Movement began. The planets danced allegretto and spun round the sun in a great whoosh of angel wings.
I was the melody!– and when I threw back my head in joy, treble clef prisms spilled out through the chakra of my third eye. The hand of the unseen conductor waved them onward into the vibrating strings of a solar wind and I cried out, “Yes! The whole cosmos is a grand opus! Let those who have ears, hear!!!”
“Oh man,” whispered a voice, “I hear it!” In an instant I had arrived back on earth with a soft thud. The voice was that of my friend and partner in all things sublime and transcendent. Under the ancient tree, Krishna Bob was still sitting like the Buddha. A lady bug had landed on his nose and her tiny wings were humming a mantra just as the sun came up.
I’d have to wait on another alternate reality for the Third and Fourth Movement.
The earth turns slowly round
Far away the distant sound
Is with us everyday
Can you hear what it say
Om, om, heaven, om
the Moody Blues – In Search of the Lost Chord
This isn’t Gonzo journalism but rather inspired by the Sorcerer’s Apprentice. I also was once a violin student and I try to practice meditation in the Buddhist tradition.