Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Without going into serious Photoshop language, I'll just say this: I've discovered I can paint parts of images on top of other image without any cutting and pasting. And, since I can control the thickness of the "paint," that means I can paint the mere suggestion of other images. And, as I do more and more of that, it becomes harder and harder to tell where one image stops and another begins. And, of course, the color and image resources for any picture become virtually infinite.
It seems to me that this is not unlike what happens when we are in constant contact with other individuals: we rub off on one another, the boundaries become less distinct, what is me and not you becomes harder and harder to distinguish from what is you and not me. And our potential for becoming whatever we might choose to become is in fact much richer than we may comprehend.
All of which feels connected, somehow, to our shared ground of spirituality. It's a gift, I think, to see that our differences are not as huge or significant as we think they are; to see ourselves as... well... sheer, like curtains; as something one can see through to the ground underneath -- as if what society and upbringing and genetics paint on us is a thin veneer which, when stripped away, reveals the oneness of things. Add to that our ability to choose what to paint, what to erase, and what to over-write... well, the possibilities begin to look almost infinite.
At some level, I suppose, that's a little scary -- and potentially a lot of responsibility. But at another level it's exciting, encouraging -- even breathtaking. And frankly, I can't wait to do some more exploring!