The Thorns and the Caressing Light

by Dionysos Maskaleris

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Sometimes I use the symbolism and cosmology of Jesus because I draw from the society I live in but I also draw from many springs. Ultimately Jesus is Christ is an Energy.  I see the Energy of the Universe is in everything -  (i) see an energy of light in nature, in human faces and sometimes in pulsating strands of light that hover like fire flies and that look like mandalas of colorful snowflakes emanating in symmetrical bursts of rays of light in geometric patterns like Islamic tile work. Away, apart from living bodies - around me at times I see geometric mandalas of sparks of light.  I have drawn them with colored pens and prisma colored pencils but I need to practice at drawing them more so I can paint them or computer generate there images. Some might call them angels or souls. I don’t know of such things - I don’t know what to think - so I call them energy entities. I only see them when my eyes are open when I am awake. With artistic license I call them angels or human souls but I do not know what they really are. Maybe I have gone mad. I wish I did not see them for the miracles of leaves of trees and sunsets and human faces I thought were - I want to be enough for me. They are not evil though and they seem to have a power of goodness. Besides the usual colors sometimes they emanate colors or wavelengths that I do not understand how I could see them and they appear in such beautiful colors that there are no names for. Sometimes they sing to me without words or in words or sounds I do not understand. When they come, their songs and light echos and shimmers around me and they caress me with a love that resonates of each moment dancing within an eternal stillness. 

Sometimes I wish I did not see them for the miracles of leaves of trees and sunsets and human faces are miracles enough. They are not evil though and they seem to have a power of goodness. Besides the usual colors sometimes they emanate colors or wavelengths that I do not understand how I could see them. Sometimes they sing to me in sounds I do not understand. They are a 'terrible beauty'.  I did not believe in 'miracles' except for the every day kind because I would rather live in a world were I look and see beauty in peoples faces, their open hands and in poetic words, in colors of pigments and in shapes I can touch, feel and hear like trees, animals, rocks, winds, waters, fires, music and people crying and laughing - these are the miracles I believe in and look for I don't like to talk about it because it is embarrassing but these colors of symmetrical light still come to me from time to time though not as often as before. Visions of light have visited me for as long as I can remember. The energy patterns comfort me, now that I am separated from everyone that ever loved me, these vibrating lights of many colors accompanies the music of my soul like night birds of the desert singing to the first light of dawn.           

Now the colors of light come like fireworks over Gasworks park; as waterfalls of bursting flowers; like translucent dust particles in shafts of sun light in a primordial forest; like clouds of gnats, both at the beginning and at the end of their life of moments dancing off back waters - visions of light flowing towards me. Maybe the lights I see are sometimes in my minds eye and sometimes in my eyes mind. Maybe all this is only a dream. So what if this only a dream? What is more amazing, is that we dream at all - it is the dream itself - the dreams as we sleep and the waking dreams.  

One dream is from before : the beauty of the trees, the sound, the mountains beyond, my little parrot companion on my shoulder, behind me the pedestrian bridge over the tracks of trains of thoughts of material worlds, beneath me stones becoming sand and above me the winter sun descending towards the Olympic snows. 

The dream now is: I draw souls - not literally - not symbolically either, for the feelings I wish to invoke are real. These patterns of light I call energy entities for I do not know what is alive or not alive for in a sense everything is alive - not anthropomorphically but in a more ‘real’ way . I do not call them souls except with artistic license, looking for a way to name the image and the feelings it invokes. I do not have psychic powers to read people or predict events. It is not a power ‘over’ it is a power ‘of’ I do not know what the lights are. With word/images I try to explain the way the images seem to me - what the feelings, the images invoke, in me and what they might in you. To me a soul is consciousness - the essence - the spark of what we are. It is the soul of the matter. 

The words or lines of color that I place down on the paper is not as important as the soul I draw out of me or you - which is the knowledge - the awareness of who we are - of our sorrows and joys - of what we were and what we can become. This is my purpose in life - to draw from the well of consciousness, to write of peoples lives and of all of life - to see a glimpse of what lies beyond the mountains - which is, among many things, the plain of souls and the sea of souls. It is where the light comes from and where the light goes. This is what I write of and draw. The patterns of fantastic swirling lights I have seen with colors known and colors/wavelengths I do not understand and one would think can not be seen. These patterns, though sometimes frightening and embarrassing, are not evil. They are sometimes warm and nurturing - sometimes overwhelming like dawn on a world half a galaxy away. There is the radiating light and the layers of darkness. Sometimes it is all colors of pigment - once in a great while it is the absence of all light and then I am so afraid. But the light always returns. Some light we see with our mind’s eye and some light we see with our eye’s mind. Is the light and darkness inside my mind or from a place without a name? A place that the scientists try mostly honorably to define, for they believe also in the beauty, sacredness and ecstasy of life and energy.                                                                             
i most often see the beautiful colors of symmetrical light in nature especially at the tops of mountains. Why small {i}?  Because what i saw on the mountain i hope was seen not so much with my ego but more with my still small voice.

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{All Dionysos Maskaleris writings copyright or copyright pending}