Naomi Brosnan

‘The Singularity’ Oil and Pigment on Canvas 91cm(h) x 121cm(w)

Wandering through intellect and memory making a map of my evolution …The emergence from the cave gives innocence a chance to grow anew   and reflect upon things as a whole cycle . Here I lay myself down deeper and deeper into the natural matrix …

Finding a language that encompasses truth all inclusive, seeking the evolution of the marks made and translated to the moments of eternal return. The city heaving and breathing an energy of humanity moving forward , breathing through my roots I accept my place.

Into the waters and the wild, into the vibrant memory of freedom, Soul dwelling and body breathing. All that I have been still remains … When the water clears those wonderful imperishable moments of pure bliss shine.

I approach again with a need to write …The waves of intellect have crashed on numerous occasions against my will, like the waves that roar with the sheer power of the ocean, white water power. The foam I consider to be the evidence of passion is all but expunged by frivolous over thinking and an ultimate descent into pointlessness. I had deceived myself into thinking that I had nothing constructive to say. There I sat for weeks, head spinning ravenous thoughts around in a spiral , like a pac man munching up all the delicate passion.

My head still spins with forming thoughts holding tension that I must release. The mounting unexpressed minions dragging me to a place where nothing is soft enough or clear enough. The pointlessness dresses my soul in the foulest of rags , and does not even take joy in it’s victory! The odor has grown to a stifling intensity, it acts like a drug that changes my perception… finally I move to open the window. New air has such fragrance that it makes my mouth water , a desire for something other begins to manifest. I find myself naked and clean with a fresh stack of enthused potential.

Maybe now that I have my own permission thoughts may be allowed to crystalize at a natural pace instead of speeding in confinement. The act of writing begins the release of debris, the rattling of chains and the chink of light. The motion of doing has the tendency to quiet the mind, fishing out those core truths. Instead of shooting fish in a barrel one gazes upon the vast open nature that is their habitat. Writing creates room for ideas and their details , slightly apart from the chaos but still connected. The deep multidimensional well of reality is in constant motion, full of the diversity of many mundane acts. The rich and beautiful notion of prayer and altruism. Routine that is gently laid upon the rest of the random mind.

Photograph by Artist

A trickle of truth with the life span of a puddle in the midday sun. The stain remains as a reminder of it’s existence, micro minerals sparkling in an invisible realm. Truth surrounding us in tangible invisibility … is it all about faith?. Believing in the transformative moment, waiting to wake up to the possibility of creating something real. My faith remains hidden in the rich silt, like the distant waterfall in memory of a moment lived. I am pushed to enter into the fray and create new moments or I shall drown in these stagnant waters  of past glories that shackle me. In a strange way they keep me safe and stuck … feeding off the marrow of the carcass that once walked in the wild.

All this talk of freedom makes me pound harder against the glass of containment that has grown up around me. I long to be barefoot again yet I do not remember how to untie these boots. The solutions that once worked are fragile and broken,  rules have eroded and evolved. Looking into the void I see nothing and have no patience to let eyes adjust to the total darkness of what may be. So I shall bind myself to this chair and wait beyond hunger for my eyes to adjust and begin to see glory once more.

All the murmuring expectations will take time to run their course and I do not know if they will ever really be silent, but I hope. With hope there is fertile ground for positivity and for now that is more than enough.