Ramana Maharshi said:

"That state which transcends speech and thought is mouna; it is meditation without mental activity. Subjugation of the mind is meditation; deep meditation is eternal speech. Silence is ever speaking; it is the perennial flow of 'language.' It is interrupted by speaking; for words obstruct the mute 'language.' Lectures may entertain individuals for hours without improving them. Silence, on the other hand, is permanent and benefits the whole of humanity ...

"By silence, eloquence is meant. Oral lectures are not so eloquent as silence. Silence is unceasing eloquence ... It is the best language.

"There is a state where words cease and silence prevails."

Hear, hear!

He also said:

"Long for it intensely so that the mind melts in devotion. After the camphor burns away no residue is left. The mind is the camphor; when it has resolved itself into the Self without leaving even the slightest trace behind, it is realization of the Self."



What I'm saying is... here, in the midst of the jungle, is a temple.

In this temple are sacred images in the form of words.

Please don't think the words are the meaning, or the goal.

Rather than following the lines and colors, shapes and forms, immerse yourself as in a pool, taking it all in (or putting yourself in it) all at once.

Sacred art is not about the artist, but him who perceives it.

What I'm saying, as Ramana Maharshi said, is that these portraits are invitations to silence, brands which, stoking the fire, are themselves consumed in it.

They are attempts at Objective Art in the Gurdjieffian sense.

As I wrote that last line and sat to reflect on it, a bluejay came to my window and looked at me, cocking his head, and then flew away. Take that to mean what you like.