- Published on
"Loft " (Lungta or Wind-horses)- mixed media on repurposed wood. 16# x 5.5" x .75". Ready to hang. Available here and at Artfinder.
I wonder if our prayers, intentions, wishes and dreams are more potent and powerful if lofted high, far past the outfield and high into the sunlight where our eyes lose the ability to follow the ball...
There is something magical about being high up on a mountain, wind whipping your face and grabbing at your clothes. I can think of a handful of times I've held that view (and held my breath - I have a little thing with heights). In North Carolina, a climb to the top of Crowder's Mountain was rewarded with raptors soaring below. In Ireland, every mountain has a breathtaking view - sometimes fields and tiny towns, other times the wild Atlantic and rugged cliffs and seabirds. And in Oregon, there are mountains everywhere for scaling - far more challenging than anything I've scrambled up before.
I haven't seen the mountainous views of Tibet in person, but am drawn again and again to the photos of tattered prayer flags hung in thick layers across mountain passes - evidence of man's quest to feel the breath of gods and to let gods better hear his prayers. There are prayer flags outside my own house, slowly aging, fading and fraying. A reminder of surrender and acceptance and ever-present change.
As I converse with my neighborhood crow friend each morning, I wonder if I could ask him to carry a prayer flag (lungta or wind-horse) or two as he rises up over treetops and buildings. Perhaps if I smear them with jelly or something tasty? In the meantime, this piece of art, a trio of birds carrying prayer flags, is a symbol of lofted prayers and soaring dreams. Namaste.
I wonder if our prayers, intentions, wishes and dreams are more potent and powerful if lofted high, far past the outfield and high into the sunlight where our eyes lose the ability to follow the ball...
There is something magical about being high up on a mountain, wind whipping your face and grabbing at your clothes. I can think of a handful of times I've held that view (and held my breath - I have a little thing with heights). In North Carolina, a climb to the top of Crowder's Mountain was rewarded with raptors soaring below. In Ireland, every mountain has a breathtaking view - sometimes fields and tiny towns, other times the wild Atlantic and rugged cliffs and seabirds. And in Oregon, there are mountains everywhere for scaling - far more challenging than anything I've scrambled up before.
I haven't seen the mountainous views of Tibet in person, but am drawn again and again to the photos of tattered prayer flags hung in thick layers across mountain passes - evidence of man's quest to feel the breath of gods and to let gods better hear his prayers. There are prayer flags outside my own house, slowly aging, fading and fraying. A reminder of surrender and acceptance and ever-present change.
As I converse with my neighborhood crow friend each morning, I wonder if I could ask him to carry a prayer flag (lungta or wind-horse) or two as he rises up over treetops and buildings. Perhaps if I smear them with jelly or something tasty? In the meantime, this piece of art, a trio of birds carrying prayer flags, is a symbol of lofted prayers and soaring dreams. Namaste.
Those prayers.
Namaste.
https://caroled-artstuff.blogspot.com/2018/05/on-top-of-world.html