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Today’s one-liner, isn’t:

“Without perspective we become less than what we are and more of what we do not want to be.” Sam Richardson, California artist

My training in art was traditional. I learned perspective as a kid beginning with two-point perspective drawings. This limited artsy introduction was hobbled to looking at architecture in the sunshine and seeing the structure’s shadows (negative space) to define the perspective in reality and eventually in my mind’s eye. Then i expanded and tried to see perspective in flowers, birds, the sea, clouds, and the intricacy of spirals and finally within myself – as reflection. When I arrived at the destination of civil society in my quest, perspective took a protracted hiatus. This tipping point lingers.

Art is a pathway and it is a quiet guru-less way of living enmeshed in aesthetics and sensitivity. Art commissions one’s whole person to become healed by beautifying and connecting – inter and intra. I am grateful for awareness and for an innate ability to seek, to be forever curious, to imagine as many possibilities as my pea brain can hold and my corroding heart chambers can pulse. To live what I call, in the groove, on the beam, and at rare times in the real deal flow – such is the poetic here and now, and if this authenticity is not the enchantment of consciousness, then enlighten me.

I will be candid with you, I do not ‘get’ how people can operate without perception let alone be without compassionate, nor how they cannnot adore Earth, or not be willing to love and laugh without irreversible abandonment. Are they cursed with primitive-fed fear? Did their gene pool never experience the phenomenology of insight?

Okay, so I am inbred snotty and at times gratuitously romantic but is there not a moment when each of us realizes a bird’s eye view is without parallel? One world oneness is not an interpretation, it is the wholism of right impression, right action, and the height, width, depth, and position in relation to each other when viewed from any particular point. It is a global perspective.

Into the mix is stirred humility. Diffidence is a weird one – it can be a light bulb moment or a hammer falling on one’s big toe. Some feel it as humiliation, a questionable self-victimization?

The ego whispers or screams as it is seems with humanity it is unusual for ego to be barely even-keeled. Ego mediates between the conscious and the unconscious. It is responsible for realty testing and a sense of personal identity. In metaphysics ego is a conscious thinking subject.

In Jungian thought (where I reside) Carl Jung said, “The ego stands to the self as the moved to the mover, or the object to the subject, because the determining factors which radiate from the self surround the ego on all sides and are therefore supraordinate to it. The self, like the unconscious, is an a priori existent out which the ego evolves.” (Transformation Symbolism in the Mass,” CW 11, par. 391.)

When ego rules (know it too well) we manifest the nasty inequality of human organization and forget to be free beings. Our history belies we have been at this trough of angst for thousands of years unable to move beyond pettiness, turf wars, and built-in bias.

If you find a smiling humble person with a grand sense of humor as friend, lover, partner, associate, or cyber-hell passerby who is also deeply creative, wonderfully independent, and paying-it-forward kind you are damn lucky, blessed really . . . or both. Presumptions evaporate and mobilization brings the dream state into the rock n’ roll world of consciousness.

Perspective on paper, or in the sand, is a voiceless mirror on the perspective of one’s life? Disturbances we manifest in our personal interactions are micro to the macro of mass human behavior. I do not do well with drama queens or those who like to gossip or nitpick. My first case scenario with these folks is not to turn my cheek but to as soon as possible (but not rudely) split from the scene. Over the decades any tolerance with this pettifogging lexicon vanished along with any desire to fix the fuckers. “Move on, next . . . a mantra to edit the emotionally shabby divisionaries*.

The meanings of symbols, in poetry, dreams, art, story, myth and even literature and illustration fashioned within children’s books are how we move from defeat, pain and suffering (individually or as a collective) to melding a place of love – of adaptation and transformation.

*one of my made-up words, but you get its meaning, eh?

Jamie Harkins, sand art, a perspective.


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