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On the spiritual journal experiement

Update: I found it was impossible to happily express my spiritual reflections, truths, or experiences, in such a way that felt credible, whole, or otherwise acceptable. I also attempted to remove all learning , which canceled meaning. So the writing was very similar in immediate process to my drawings.

Something was disturbingly fragmented, kaleidoscopic in the results, and voice-shifting in it's expression. It became at times meaningless, but at other times, doubly meaningless.

Truth and pain were suggested, but not explicit; knowledge posed as confusion; confusion returned in the guise of knowledge; and back again.

A narrative that is related to the spiritual must, in my opinion, be interwoven with the actual pain and suffering that accompanies it. Only then it would be worth relating or preserving. The heart is in the paint, and the words.

The relative mind of training or information is not especially invited; we are entering the 'impossibility' of the immediate now, where beauty and ugliness merge into vision.

We are all exposed to this process, by being human; fearful/fearless, perfect/imperfect, and all those other dualities.

I cherish my errors, damage, mistakes. They are my sky.

But! Looking through and past the sky, deep into space, however, is where the persistent warrior goes. The intention is to the now.

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