the love artist dot org

is art . . .

...supposed to be perfect?

you are working with the medium of love as I understand it?

just had little read of your blog.

xxx em


**************************


not sure exactly what you are asking . . .

yes, working with love, hopefully as you understand it ;) & I believe it is all perfect

hope you enjoyed your read, love to know what you think . .

love you xoxx tla


**************************


in your blog you seemed to be doubting yourself as a love artist - that you were struggling to love completely unconditionally.  I was just asking if art is meant to be perfect?  (taking unconditional love to be perfect).

will write more another time -  v busy week and must sleep now (2:30am!!)

xx e


***************************

oh god. . . is anyone perfect? I do not question myself as love artist . . ever . . though sometimes, for all appearances i should

i am continually refining my ability to love at all moments & it is often scary & hard & doesn't always come easily

& it's funny that it is always surprising to me (that it can be hard)

we are all practicing always

the desire to be perfect is in itself utter imperfection, remember

love love

xxxx tla







loving louise, my porch in aguada, march 1

the deep end

not knowing when the dawn will come i open every door

emily dickinson

you love me

princess nola loves her mama

& vice versus

be home soon

ether

i am from this big roiling sea today

sitting on the same cushion where i have sat every morning for the last three months

way before sunrise

with candles lit

i usually shun the wind

my skin feels too sensitive

like i can’t think

it’s the continuous rub

but this morning i owned it sitting at 4:30

i couldn’t see the waves but i could hear them

someone taught me recently how "to bring ether" into things

she told me it didn’t matter if I knew what this meant

to just do it & everything would change

this has been a time of faith for me

for just doing what i said i was going to do

for showing up

for not making excuses

so i began to put ether into everything

even tho i wasn’t sure how to do it

no questions asked

i saw it like a mist on the ocean

like a fuzzy grey layer that could permeate everything but barely be seen

& i taught myself how to sip it in & this started to change the weight of my body as it moved through the world

more connected through the hip & down my through my foot

but the biggest change was that i started to see with my heart

oh i wasn’t going to write that, it sounds corny

but my heart actually has begun to lead me as if it is a beacon shining about 3 feet in front of my body

& it is through this light that i am beginning to see, not that i hadn’t seen before, but i am beginning to see more

becoming orchid

. . to be fully alive, fully human & completely awake

is to be continually thrown out of the nest

 

to live fully is to be always in no-man’s land, to experience each moment as completely new & fresh. to live is to be willing to die over & over again.  from the awakened point of view, that’s life.  death is wanting to hold on to what you have & to have every experience confirm you & congratulate you & make you feel completely together . . . so even though we say the yama mara is fear of death, it is actually fear of life


we think that if we just meditated enough or jogged enough or ate perfect food, everything would be perfect.  but from the point of view of someone who is awake, that’s death.  seeking security or perfection, rejoicing in feeling found, confirmed & whole, self-contained & comfortable, is some kind of death.  it doesn’t have any fresh air.  there’s no room for something to come in & interrupt all that.  we are killing ourselves by controlling everything we experience

doing this just sets us up for failure

because sooner or later, (tla interjection here) we’re gonna get busted

our house is gonna burn down, someone we love is gonna die, we’re gonna find out we have cancer, someone is gonna spill red wine on us at dinner, they’re not gonna have a vegan entree at the restaurant even when they promised they would . . .


~ the beloved ms pema chodron, with a little editorializing by the love artist


******************************

it has been a rough re-entry, i don’t know what i was thinking, in my little garden in puerto rico, puttering around, up way before dawn, working the ether, worshipping my horizon line, my wrap around, 180 degree divine durga mother ocean

i can’t believe i didn’t really even have a plan for integration. i walked out of my sanctuary without any supplies, thinking i was jesus . . .

i did learn some mighty fine manifestation tools out there by the ocean, that was one of the reasons i made that plan, one year ago, almost exactly, to be there, at wigmore, to learn how to be so clear, that i could spot a negative train of thought a mile away & that i could deflect it with a soft heart not the iron guard or bloody sword i had learned to wield as my only excuse for a boundary

no, i learned the option of a soft heart while still learning to say no when i meant no & yes when i meant yes

but as is the love artist wont, i like to push things to the max, pedal to the metal, & pressing my face to the divine is not exempt from that MO, sooooo I was crystalline for the most part, you guys witnessed that here, & no I did not stop or slow down, up till the very night before my flight, staying up all night, screwing around with the ether ONE LAST TIME mano y mano

so of course when i ended up the next day at the miraculous event of my family (my 3 children & my ex husband & me) together under one roof for the first time in probably 12 or so years, celebrating easter, cooking dinner (not raw as you can imagine) & heating the windy little beach house up again the cold with a cranky wood stove

without an ounce of wheatgrass or coconut water in sight

i am not super woman

it was cool tho, for several days i rocked & rolled on love & adrenalin & the best of intentions, til i finally hit my little sanctuary in hudson, where the bottom fell out & i laid in bed all feverish in front of another fire, drinking vats of water & attempting to whip up a little blended something or other . . .  my sweetheart giorgio kept the hearth fires burning & crawled into bed w. me to watch endless LOST season 4 (there is so much to catch up on . . . those of you other LOST freaks, i am modeling myself after the insane ms rousseau these days, see pix above)

oh and about the naked pix (as long as myspace & photobucket keep me un-policed, . . they will stay up on theloveartist.org i’m pretty sure) . . yes, i am (as ms propheta west so (genuinely) lovingly called me) a shiny skeleton . . . i know so many of you are crying "too skinny oh love artist too skinny". . . but i own this body, it was an amazing, amazing journey of clarity & crystalline awareness & it was a huge & courageous undertaking, this cleanse, my unraveling . . . it was scary & glorious . . . but like all things perfect & rarefied & orchid-like,  i now bow my head to the resonance of the metropolis & my pagan, peasant stock & i wonder what is next

not sure what exactly that will look like but hopefully it will include at least a little bit more in the booty department

a girl can wish

one day at a time

dream is destiny

yesterday afternoon i took myself on a little date to see persepolis & i had such a good time.  i loved it so much.  smack in the middle of the whole thing, unrelated (i think) to the subject matter, i had an epiphany.

i had had a similar epiphany a few years ago, while having sex.  the former epiphany was when i realized that although i had always considered myself an erotic person, i was actually trying too hard.  i was always trying to find my partner somewhere, some mysterious halfway point & although i was often easily aroused & excited, i often tired of sex.  it went on too long.  i got bored.  i couldn’t find a rhythm that carried me.  but that magical day, i realized i was fighting the f**k by looking for it & ultimately trying to control it.  That magical afternoon, i let myself be really taken & i was taken for quite a while, months actually, years . .

yesterday, i was really enjoying the movie, but in the back of my head i was fretting about my week, the book, my love life, how much moving around i need to do in the coming weeks, & suddenly there was a voice in my head that said take only what you need. I thought to myself, of course. but the voice came back no, really only what you need, like only the course structure(s) for the next week, only the chapter that you are working on, only the couple of outfits that you can wear morning, noon & night & be the love artist completely totally . .

the connection to the sex epiphany was this: let life f**k you, royally, totally, be taken by complete & utter UNION, with total bodice ripping abandon, just take a few pairs of panties & a little rouge, you tart, cause something really great, better than you could have ever thought up on your own is waiting for you

i am really excited

p.s. it’s really funny cause about 7 years ago -- & you all know about the 7 year cycle -- i had a major major life-altering ephiphany in a small art cinema in berlin while watching WAKING LIFE maybe i’ll tell you about it later . .  angelic visitation thru animation . . . .