Death is only one of many ways to lose your life. The dangers of not doing what you perceive as your destiny are greater than anything else.
Traveling to indigenous homelands for me has always been an undeniable pull to go to what is my own personal soulsource, my pre-womb knowing, my earliest childhood calling. In communing with sunrise, spirit, and the power of a cold and misty village morning, I warm my hands over an open fire. Primal, I seek and connect to my own truth, spirit and naked feet walking this earth on ocean sands through african dust.
Origin of source inside the seed spiraling forward force of destiny into womb carrying known knowledge inner intuitional subliminal future no thinking no mental bullshit no mental twists. Like a stirring within passion driven overstanding unfolding flowing from what has always been... spiral soul spinning, crest of wave riding, clear center and on it. Create no illusions concerning your own self-awareness.
Africa is a land shrouded in mystery and poetry, the rational mind venturing there finds itself puzzled and inefficient in negotiating its environment. Africa's peoples know their own history largely through oral tradition; interpretations, myths, legends, songs and stories, not through objective documentation. Anthropologists look for ethnic and cultural differences... musicians for rhythmic and melodic patterns... writers to write about it, document it, categorize it, define it. However, Africa never yields her true nature that way. The real understanding doesn't lie in rational thought but in poetic thought. It is a land dominated by magic, where humans accept the irrational forces of life and integrate their intuitive knowledge to the pursuit of their own lives. Until one abandons some of one's Western notions about reality and surrenders to a different perspective, the rational mind will keep one in a state of confusion and bewilderment. —Sylvain Leroux
I sometimes lose myself in the flow of a drumbeat
Lose myself into the origin of a heartbeat
As I look to the east I find Africa on the toes of my bare feet
I sometimes lose myself in her womb
A drum A word A smile A kiss A beat
I sometimes lose myself on a verb, Mother Africa
wants me to remember, think deeply
Inspiration is all that was heard
A kind gesture A kind word A smile A kiss A beat
Snuggling, within the confines of heart to soul
Destiny I accept the strength, the power, in this time
I and I will live kind, I and I will live sweetly
For Mother Africa loves me
Losing myself for a moment in the flow of a drumbeat
Snuggling within the confines of heart to soul destiny
"Sister moon chasing me with a syringe of sweet sweat & numbing me for respect. beyond the serpents tomb, she carries in her belly the womb of soul interpretations. buried alive, crawling between, oceans roar enchanting the totem's dream. steep inside our love vortex the ultra-violet umbilical tribe journeys through supernatural stratosphere. now & zen. we souljourn to her ethereal crystal lizard all awhile rhythms wither & flurry, climbing unknown hopeness so clearly, inside brother rebirth & reaching so high through this flower of life. fingers begin to stretch aside on the hungry rattlesnake ground, dancing with emeralds of light, spirits emerge, undressed. swiftly sea winds caress as the labyrinths tale circles to find more truth. beneath the serpents kiss, a divine torch rediscovers wisdom outside this touch..." —Scott Huckabay
The artists mission is to make the soul perceptible. Our scientific, materialistic culture trains us to develop the eyes of outer perception. Visionary art encourages the development of our inner sight. To find the visionary realm, we use the intuitive inner eye. The eye of contemplation, the eye of the soul. All inspiring ideas we have as artists originate here. —Alex Grey
