For 14 years two friends shared an art journal together, and called it Z BOOK...
Now we want to share it with you. Z pages... and more...
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Z page of the week: 1/1 and 1/9 2012

Z page of the week: 1/1 and 1/9 2012
"gesture"
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15 November 2010

week thirty-one >> "all and everything"

Blood is pumping through my soul, excitement pulsing in my fingers. We are shedding another layer of manifestation this week as we and zbook head to Santa Barbara to share our personal and collaborative narratives. Using the healing gift of story and the image exploding opportunity of power point, Cec and I are climbing up the rabbit hole to lay down some funky right brain / left brain tonic into the atmosphere of studio 1340 on the UCSB campus this Wednesday, 11/17/10 – power twin intention... activate!


The metaphor of the rabbit hole arises this week as Alice appears in pink; falling, tumbling, slipping down our red gelatinous drawing toward the web of childhood playground. I myself fell down a rabbit hole once in India. I was minding my own business, absorbing the spicey coast of Goa, India, when a young English woman named Jane showed up one afternoon saying she wasn’t sure why she had left where she had just come from. Being the incredibly helpful and insightful travelor that I am, and was, I responded, “why, you came to find me and take me back to that place from whence you came.” And so it was, that Jane and I boarded a crickety, stickity, old bus and bounced for thirteen hours across the country to Pune, India. After such a journey, we emerged into light once more, dropped at the doorstep, at the gate actually, of the OSHO Commune International. To gain entrance into this community, which I desired, I submitted to an AIDS test, negative, and soon after began a six week meditative exploration in a buddha field.

One of the guides who emerged in that time space for me, was a beautiful, round, bubbly Indian woman named Nirmala. Each night, to prepare for the evening gathering meditation, all attendees bathed and donned white robes, dresses, gowns, anything free flowing, just white. Nirmala invited herself into my shower and captured my attention with her stories. She was having an affair with a smitten Englishman and her Greek husband was aware and troubled. I believe she had been to the Ashram several times, in her youth, when the master, Bagwan Osho, was alive, and now she was back for a stay again, along with her husband, though they kept separate apartments in town. My own apartment finder had been linked to me through Jane, who had been conned into bed by the swindler on her first visit (before returning with me). He was always trying to seduce me it seemed, though I was quite guarded with my sexual energy at the time still. Nonetheless, I was very grateful to him for helping me find a little nook to call home in Puna during my stay. There was a communal hole for a toilet, and there were a few other temporary dwellers in a couple of surrounding rooms, but the main occupant of the apartment was a sweet woman who always had a smile for me and helped me feel safe and welcomed. I didn’t spend much time there, nights occasionally, it was mostly a place I could keep my belongings dry and secure.
Nirmala’s apartment, which I had the pleasure to overnight in a couple of times, was a glass-walled, wood-floored, book-laden, zen-haven. Her space overlooked the rushing river running along the town.

One morning, after a night of debauchery with some young Italian boys we had commandered, I awoke in the dawn hour, feeling very light and energized. I sat facing the river with my sketchbook and pens in hand and proceeded to engage my own deep meditation with a colored spiral drawing. After some time, Nirmala joined me by the window and our speaking commune was so entwined, that we both felt elevated into a different rhythm. Nirmala, who had a very active third eye, told me later that she could see me like a buddha. For me, it was my most enlightened moment thus far experienced in this life. Afterwards, as we joined the Italians for breakfast and then ventured to a lake retreat for the day, I felt so connected and clear headed, everything felt joyous and light, and I felt that I could see through any bullshit... it was a turning point in life for me.

During my stay at the commune, I participated in many aspects of community life, and engaged in most of the daily meditations and a couple of the special, intensified offerings. At lunch everyday, after eating, I could sit along one of the exterior corridors, and listen to a taped recording of Osho speaking. Some of the most memorable teachings came from those lunch hour sessions. Often, he would speak about people, those wise and otherwise as well. More than once, I recollect Osho referring to a man called Gurdjieff, and always he spoke with respect for his teachings. Thus, when I came across the writings of G.I Gurdjieff when I was back in LA, perousing the Bodhi tree bookstore, I took home the books and entered the worlds of “All and Everything”.
All and Everything is a three part series. The first massive part, Beelzebub’s Tales to His Grandson, is purportedly an avenue for dispelling the myths which the ego has enshrouded humanity in. I have not yet had the fortitude to withstand that full path. I have however, crossed the river into the second book of the series, Meetings with Remarkable Men. This series of autobiographical stories of people with whom Gurdjieff engaged in through his search of mystery knowledge across Asia, Africa and Europe is incredible and image rich. I’ve read through this part II of the series several times, and could learn from it for ever and ever no doubt. In fact, with this weeks zbook spread approaching, I picked it up from my bookshelves and entered it into my bathroom book keeper. Having re-read the introduction while enthroned, I knew I must move it into my backpack to have on my person through the coming weeks.
To end this post, I wanted to share a recent gleaning from All and Everything, 2nd series. It is said that a human must strive to keep intact both the lamb and the wolf, to be in truth with herself.

Gurdjieff shares this challenge: How can one get across the river and keep whole the wolf, the goat and the cabbage, if only one can be ferried across at a time?


The answer lies in making an extra trip!


This week, I look from the vantage of the Hawk for guidance- in awe of Earth and Sky. Please share your thoughts, experiences, flow... we’d love to hear from you!


Be well and Blessings, -Hemphill



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