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Inspired by a poem of the same name by the Sufi teacher, Reshad Feild. Hands within hands within hands holding and tenderly protecting the sacred flame of.....???..... spiraling inward and outward and taking flight...
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I never learned how to color inside the lines literally or metaphorically.
Yes, I went to art school, and college, and graduate school, but I feel that I have spent my time since then attempting to UNlearn whatever it was they were trying to teach me.
My feeling is that I am self-taught -- I really never did catch on to whatever it was I was supposed to catch on to.
So, I live in a tiny coastal village and make paintings. I do not call what I do "art". I really haven't the slightest idea what "art" is -- I just do what I do...
If I am an artist at all, I am a visionary spiritual artist, a mystic muralist of the dreamtime.
With my images, I attempt to evoke magic, spiraling and emerging through the sacred symbology of the divine source, the great mother, the One.
I feel that the role of the "artist" in this time is to be a shaman in the very deepest sense of that word, working to dispel commonly held illusions/delusions (perhaps through the creation of "illusions") and to help bring about a true healing to her/his culture: to nurture and feed the world soul.
Intuitive, shamanic art that awakens the inner fires: burning, transmuting and healing, bringing life and color into a world that has become hardened, bland and overly linear.
Womanly, soft, blooming, unfolding, encompassing the lush, dank darkness and the majestic openness of the void, as well as the bright and beautiful light of the divine.
http://www.qahiralynn.com
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