Why does my hard-fought-for inner knowing elude the grasp of my everyday mind? I think I would have to live as a monk - contemplative - no hurry - no worry - present - aware - in order to dwell in the knowing of the eternal moment. I can always find my way back to that moment, but I cannot claim I abide there ... yet.
When I create art whether with pencil, brush or digital editing I often enjoy a fleeting sense of the eternal. Here are two variations of a collage of digital edits of a public domain painting by Degas:
Time and space are but ... colors which the eye makes, but the soul is light. ~Emerson
Man is a synthesis of the infinite and the finite, the temporal and the eternal, freedom and necessity.
After a lifelong struggle, I know that what matters is not to learn a new description
but to arrive at the totality of oneself.
As I rest in the pure and simple witness, I am no longer moved to follow the bliss and the torture of experiential displays. Experiences float across my original face like clouds floating across the clear autumn sky, and there is room in me for all.