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Thursday, May 9, 2002

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  • Jerry Katz
    [Image] The Highlights Issue #1065 Thursday, May 9, 2002 Edited by Jerry Katz Highlights Home Page: http://nonduality.com/hlhome.htm Image above from
    Message 1 of 1 , May 10, 2002

      The Highlights
      Issue #1065

      Thursday, May 9, 2002

      Edited by Jerry Katz

      Highlights Home Page: http://nonduality.com/hlhome.htm

      Image above from http://imagerybyaimea.tripod.com/home/id6.html


      They arrive and others arrive,
      and then they go, and the others go.
      Day and night, a constant traffic.

      Where do they come from?
      Where do they go?

      Does it mean anything?
      Nothing, nothing, nothing.

      --Lalla, Naked Song



      Michael, I enjoyed your piece on your experiences as a
      nude model in the NDHighlights. (Issue #1064)

      It reminded me of one of the models, Rose, who sat for
      the life drawing classes I took. I should say, however,
      given Rose's cantankerous nature and tendency to fight
      with the art instructor, that Rose didn't STAND FOR the
      life drawing classes I took.

      By the way, there was a whole lotta Rose. Mounds and
      folds of Rose. Rose was most certainly someone's
      grandmother, but you'd be in big trouble if you tried to
      cozy up to her. Rose had a mind of her own. The
      instructor was permitted to suggest poses to Rose, but
      Rose always had the final say. Nude Rose also liked to
      critique the drawings - and she hated them all.

      Until one day, what came out of my hand was "not Rose".
      Or, I should say, it was Rose... Rose in the eyes and
      Rose in the nose and Rose in the mouth. Even Rose in the
      tilt of her head. While not the aged Rose, it was a Rose
      of a certain smooth-skinned, peacefully melancholic
      attitude, a Rose of a certain facial expression that was
      never seen on the "real Rose".

      Rose took one look at it and declared, somewhat
      emotionally, that it was the truest drawing of herself
      that she had ever seen.

      In a rocky mix of accident, flippancy, and intention, I
      had seen what was there and without setting out to do
      so, hit something so dead-on directly, that the model
      recognized it, was moved to tears by it.

      Was it about her?

      I don't know...

      You said the class was about the students (learning to
      see and perceive). But what was it they were practicing
      on? And what were they seeing and perceiving? Where does
      it end, this seeing? And who is seeing whom?

      By the way, the woman I recognized in the drawing was


      "I mentioned to her how much she put me in mind of Zen
      mastery. she said, 'yes, it is very zenlike in
      quality." --Nina

      Nina, I've been wanting to tell you how much I enjoy
      your posts. As an artist, it excites me to hear you
      speak of minimalism, Donald Judd, landscape,
      architecture, experiences in life drawing classes, etc.
      I hope to share your 'healing architecture' link with
      the director of the hospital where I am currently

      Michael, after spending many years in life drawing
      classes I can certainly agree with you of the zenlike
      quality of this exercise. There is a wonderful book by
      Frederick Franck titled "Zen seeing, Zen drawing". I
      find drawing the second most effective way of
      meditating. The first is welding. When drawing, the
      focus is on negative space that defines positive space.
      It is easy to lose boundary between figure/ground/self.
      Somehow the pencil becomes the magic tool that connects
      all. Time disappears with the erasure marks (except for
      the model, right Michael?)

      Jerry, I want to thank you and all the NDS Highlighters
      for imaginative editing of the daily postings...and now
      even with audio! The Highlights are fun, informative and
      helpful to those of us who don't have much time to read
      the posts.

      drawing this post to a close. . . . Mary


      from Dzogchen list

      Dalai Lama censored to mollify Chinese

      Sian Powell THE AUSTRALIAN -Thursday May 9 2002

      THE Dalai Lama's travelling exhibition of Tibetan
      history has been censored by the NSW Parliament.
      Scheduled to be launched today in the public Fountain
      Court in Parliament House, the exhibition was going to
      be blessed by the Dalai Lama on his visit to Australia
      later this month.

      But several panels were removed from the exhibition
      yesterday because they were deemed overtly political,
      and it is possible the Australia Tibet Council will
      withdraw the whole display.

      The exhibition, originally the Dalai Lama's idea, has a
      strong human rights focus, and documents the Chinese
      invasion of Tibet and the Tibetan struggles.

      John Ryan, a Liberal member of the upper house, and one
      of the three MPs who organised the exhibition venue,
      said it had been censored as a sop to China. "The
      president and the speaker went round and took down a
      number of panels - anything that looks like it's current
      political comment, any criticism of China," he said.

      NSW upper house president Meredith Burgmann (ALP) said
      the removal of the panels was a matter of adhering to
      parliamentary guide-lines. The public servant who made
      the decision had her full support, she said.
      "Exhibitions cannot be seen to be contributing to a
      current political debate."

      The Dalai Lama's visit begins on May 18 and has been
      dogged by controversy for months. He was refused
      permission to address the National Press Club in the
      Great Hall in Parliament House. The federal Government
      believes he should be treated as a religious figure,
      rather than a political leader.



      (from the book, "I Heard God Laughing -- Renderings of Hafiz," by Daniel Ladinsky)

      Of Course Things Like That Can Happen

      Once God made love to a great saint
      Who had a hairy belly.

      Of course things like that can happen!

      And it was a surprise
      Only to the novice on the path
      When the saint's stomach began to swell
      Just like a woman's.

      Weeks went by, then months.
      The saint's cheeks
      Turned into beautiful roses.
      He became like a young bride
      Who was carrying a holy child,
      And his gratitude was speechless.
      But his eyes shone
      Like two planets making love.

      The town began to stand outside his house
      At night,

      For it had come to the attention of the faithful
      That as the moon passed by on its round,
      It would sometimes bend over and kiss the roof!

      Of course things like that can happen.

      Life went on
      Amidst the other ten thousand wonders:
      Whiskers and weeds and trees and charming babies
      Kept emerging.
      People and cattle and bees worked side by side,
      All sweetly humming,
      And, come lunch,
      All dined on the same Mysterious
      Divine manna of nourishing Love -
      Disguised in a thousand shapes, colors and forms.

      Galaxies gave away their ingenious ideas
      And told us of their private body functions.
      So man, too,
      Eats, burps and excretes more worlds.

      How is it that invisible thoughts can lift heavy matter
      And build cities and armies and altars?

      All contain a Hidden Strategy
      To be transformed again
      Into Divine Music and Love and Light!

      The sun rolls through
      The sky meadows every day,
      And a billion cells run
      To the top of a leaf to scream and applaud
      And smash things in their joy.

      Of course things like that can happen.

      Rivers stay up all night and chant;
      Luminous fish jump out of the water
      Spitting emeralds at all talk of Heaven
      Being anywhere else but -- Right Here!

      Clouds pull each other's pants down
      And point and laugh.

      O my dear,
      Of course things like that can happen.

      For all is written within the Mind
      To help and instruct the dervish
      In dance and romance and prayer.

      The stars get clearly drunk
      And crazy at night
      And throw themselves
      Across the sky.

      Only an insane being or compound
      Is not going mad with excitement
      At this Wonderful Performance by God!

      And still,
      Light stretches its arms
      Open ever more
      And shouts to you, because you are His lover,
      To forget your harsh actions of the past
      And just Dance!

      Look! Angels and flowers
      Are playing hooky in graveyards,
      Laughing and rolling naked on cool stones.

      Why go to sleep tonight
      Exhausted from the folly of ignorance,

      When even the Beloved is Drunk
      And is doing wonderful, ecstatic somersaults
      And is giving wild lessons between the sheets
      And between His handstands
      All up and down the Tavern floor and ceiling!

      Indeed, things like that can happen.

      A few days
      Before the delivery of God's baby,
      The saint had to visit a city close by
      Where few knew him.

      He was walking unnoticed past a mosque,
      And the shouts of God's lovers
      Happened to fill the air, calling,

      "Allah, Allah! Where are you?
      Where are You, Beautiful One?"

      And the child in the womb of the Master
      Could not remain silent and shouted back,
      In an astounding voice,

      "I am Here!
      I am Here -- dear world!"

      The crowd in the mosque became frantic,
      And they picked up shoes, clubs and stones.
      You know what then happened -
      The story became grim.

      But the moon cannot hold a grudge.
      It still stops by some nights
      And leans over this gentle earth, as over a crib,
      And gives a full, wet kiss.

      For the moon knows
      That God is always amorous -

      He will never stop making Love,

      For the Truth has been Divinely Conceived
      Deeply within each of us.

      O Hafiz,
      Look at the Splendor of God's Grace:
      The Sun has been planted in a thousand furrows
      Across every soul's brow.

      Of course, my dear,
      Everything God and I say
      Can Happen!

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