I entered a house. It was striking to see an old patchy wall. A series of framed pictures arranged on the observant wall. It is silent, quietly watching over its body of frames. Sometimes with kind and sometimes with cold eyes, it sees all day long. There are cracks on it too...it is blue...getting old by the day. Sometimes feeling burdened by their parasitic existence. They are loud, perhaps excited and charged. They love being that way, inundated by the dramatic chemistry of gods and demons in them. It is mysterious how they all cling together to the same wall.
As the window opened, it let in some breeze and sunlight. In an instant the golden rays illuminated dust particles and each frame glowed, each colour spotted. Beauty lies in these intricacies. The rays never tried disentangling the designs; they were meant to be that way. They simply threw light on them.
The wall, I learnt, later was not simply a witness, not just a host for the parasite-looking frames. It is the experiencer 'herself'. She is the frames and the frames are elements of her self. They give her the power of life. She needs to know that she is beautiful, and different, but alone. She needs to recognise herself which she will when she sees her bright blue eyes in the mirror.
The mirror would complete her incompleteness, that wasnt really there. She was always complete, but she just couldn't see it, because she saw no reflection. The wall and the mirror complete each other, reflecting each other's forms facing each other in the same world....
As the window opened, it let in some breeze and sunlight. In an instant the golden rays illuminated dust particles and each frame glowed, each colour spotted. Beauty lies in these intricacies. The rays never tried disentangling the designs; they were meant to be that way. They simply threw light on them.
The wall, I learnt, later was not simply a witness, not just a host for the parasite-looking frames. It is the experiencer 'herself'. She is the frames and the frames are elements of her self. They give her the power of life. She needs to know that she is beautiful, and different, but alone. She needs to recognise herself which she will when she sees her bright blue eyes in the mirror.
The mirror would complete her incompleteness, that wasnt really there. She was always complete, but she just couldn't see it, because she saw no reflection. The wall and the mirror complete each other, reflecting each other's forms facing each other in the same world....
