WHEN LOVE IS GONE - WATERCOLORS - by ARTIST CORA TIANA

 

 

 

 

NO SONGS IN WINTER - by Thomas Bailey Aldrich

 

 

NO  SONGS  IN  WINTER by Thomas Bailey Aldrich  The sky is gray as gray may be, There is no bird upon the bough, There is no leaf on vine or tree. In the Neponset marshes now Willow-stems, rosy in the wind, Shiver with hidden sense of snow. So too 't is winter in my mind, No light-winged fancy comes and stays: A season churlish and unkind. Slow creep the hours, slow creep the days, The black ink crusts upon the pen-- Just wait till bluebirds, wrens, and jays And golden orioles come again!

 

 

WINTER'S EMBRACE - by Patricia L. Cisco

 

WINTER'S  EMBRACE by Patricia L. Cisco  Shimmering lakes of silvery icewelcomes skaters' scarring slice.Hills adorned in lacy whitewatch children sleigh into the night.In the brilliant pristine light,snow birds in tall trees take flight.Evergreens draped in capes of snow,their heavy branches hanging low,blanket earth as north winds blow.Winter's dance is quite a show,an ice-kissed, dazzling, magical place,transformed by winter's cold embrace!

 

 

 

THE MIRACLE OF LACE PORCELAIN

Lace porcelain got its name due to its lightness and grace, as well as its resemblance to real braided lace. Most often, lacy porcelain figurines appear before us in the form of girls and girls, often ballerinas or dancers in fluffy, airy dresses, which consist of the finest lace with small, small holes. And specially selected delicate colors make these figures even lighter, delicate and weightless.

These delicate porcelain figurines are made using a process known as lace draping. It transforms delicate lace and other cotton fabrics into porcelain. Fabrics are draped by hand, then immersed in porcelain slip and after heat treatment are transformed into openwork porcelain patterns!

The process is believed to have been developed in ancient China, where raw silk was used for this. The most famous example, however, is the Dresden porcelain. Dresden laces began to be produced in the late 18th and early 19th centuries. But due to the imperfection of manufacturing, thin laces were very fragile and broke at the slightest touch. That is why there is so little and so expensive lace porcelain of that time, almost every figurine has chips.

Today, when creating "lacy" figurines, real lace is used, which is impregnated with porcelain mass, and then still wet attached to the sculptures. In ovens at temperatures above 1300 degrees, the textile base burns out, and the porcelain lace remains for centuries.

 

 

TRIBAL MYTH - THE FIRST COCOANUT TREE AND THE CREATION OF MAN - Manuel Reyes - from "Types of Prose Narratives" by Harriott Ely Fansler - 1911

There were three gods, Bathala, Ulilangkalulua, and Galangkalulua. Bathala, a very large giant, ruled the earth; Ulilangkalulua, a very large snake, ruled the clouds; and Galangkalulua, a winged head, wandered from place to place. In fact, each of these gods thought that he was the only living being in the universe.

The earth was composed of hard rocks. There were no seas and no oceans. There were also no plants and no animals. It was indeed a very lonely place. Bathala, its true inhabitant, had often wanted to have some companions, but he wondered how he could provide these companions with food, drink, and shelter when there was nothing on the earth but rocks.

What was true of Bathala was also true of Ulilangkalulua. In his kingdom Ulilangkalulua saw nothing but white clouds. His solitary condition led him to visit other places. He often came down to the earth and enjoyed himself climbing high mountains and entering deep caves.

As he was at the top of a very high hill one day, he saw some one sitting on a large stone down below him. He was very greatly amazed and it was a very long time before he could speak. At last he said, "Sir, tell me who you are."

"I am Bathala, the ruler of the universe," answered the god. Ulilangkalulua was filled with anger when he heard these words. He approached Bathala and said, "If you declare yourself to be the ruler of all things, I challenge you to combat."

A long struggle took place, and after the fighting had continued about three hours Ulilangkalulua was slain. Bathala burned his body near his habitation.

Not many years after this event Galangkalulua, the wandering god, happened to find Bathala's house. Bathala received him and treated him kindly. Thus, they lived together for many years as true friends.

Unfortunately, Galangkalulua became sick. Bathala did not sleep day and night for taking care of his friend. When Galangkalulua was about to die, he called Bathala and said, "You have been very kind to me, and I have nothing to repay your kindness with. But if you will do what I tell you, there is a way in which I can benefit you. You once told me that you had planned to create creatures of the same appearance as you in order that you might have subjects and companions, and that you had not been successful because you did not know how you could supply them with all the necessary things. Now, when I die, bury my body in Ulilangkalulua's grave. In this grave will appear the thing that will satisfy you."

Bathala did what Galangkalulua told him, and Galangkalulua's promise was fulfilled. From the grave grew a plant, whose nut contained water and meat. Bathala was very anxious to examine the different parts of the tree because he had never seen such a thing before. He took a nut and husked it. He found that its inner skin was hard and that the nut itself resembled the head of his friend, Galangkalulua. It had two eyes, a flat nose, and a round mouth. Bathala then looked at the tree itself and discovered that its leaves were really the wings of Galangkalulua and its trunk the body of his enemy, Ulilangkalulua.

Bathala was now free to carry out his plan. He created the first man and woman. He built a house for them, the roof and walls of which were made of the leaves of the cocoanut and the posts of which were cocoanut tree trunks. Thus lived happily under the cocoanut palm this couple for many years until the whole world was crowded with their children. These children still use the cocoanut for food and clothing, the leaves for making mats, hats, and brooms, and the fiber for rope and other things.

PARAMAHANSA YOGANANDA - POEMS (= short biography by Tejvan R. Pettinger )

Paramahansa Yogananda is one of the greatest spiritual figures of the twentieth century, and also was one of the first Spiritual Masters to bring the Yoga of the East to the aspiring West.

Yogananda was born in Gorakhpur, Bengal in 1893. Originally his name was Mukunda Lal Ghosh. He was given the name of Yogananda after his initiation as an Indian Swami (monk).

Yogananda means “Bliss” through yoga (divine union with God) The title “Paramahansa” was given by his Guru Sri Yukteswar . Paramahansa means literally “Supreme Swan”. It is given to Swami’s who have established constant communion with God.

From an early age Yogananda was fascinated with meeting spiritual Saints and seekers. His autobiography recounts many riveting occasions of meetings with different Saints, (including Master Mahasaya, who was the author of “The Gospel of Ramakrishna.” ) Even as a young child Yogananda spent many hours in meditation, aspiring to attain God – Consciousness.

At the age of 17 Yogananda became a disciple of Swami Sri Yukteswar who expertly guided him along the spiritual path. Sri Yukteswar was a direct disciple of Lahiri Mahasaya Lahiri Mahasaya is credited with reintroducing the ancient art of Kriya yoga into modern society.  After several years of strict spiritual training in his Masters hermitage, Yogananda was inspired to travel to America. With the blessings of his Guru Sri Yukteswar, Yogananda travelled to the West,  in order to share the spiritual traditions of India and his own inner realisations.

In America, Yogananda founded the Self Realization Fellowship, which served as the organisation committed to his teachings. Yogananda also  gave many lectures on spiritual themes throughout the country. Yogananda taught that although  outer customs of religion may be different, the underlying principles are the same. He also taught that the essence of any religion and spiritual practice was the Love of God and to realize the true nature of your own divine Self. Yogananda also did much to show the underlying unity between Hinduism and Christianity, in doing so he helped bridge the gap between East and West.  Less well know perhaps is the poetry of Yogananda. However books such as ‘Songs of the Soul’ and ‘Whispers from Eternity’ reflect the poetic vision of this great Spiritual Master.

During his life Yogananda was able to meet with many prominent spiritual, cultural and political figures. For example, during his period of running a school in India, he was able to meet the Bengali Nobel Prize winner Rabindranath Tagore. In the mid 1930s he was able to meet Mahatma Gandhi at his ashram in Wardha. His autobiography also tells of fascinating meetings with spiritual luminaries such as Sri Anandaymoyi Ma and Sri Ramana Maharshi. Yogananda was also the first Indian Swami to meet with a US President (C.Coolidge in 1927)

On March 7, 1952, Paramahansa Yogananda entered mahasamadhi,  leaving behind a profound spiritual legacy. His writings and life continue to give countless inspiration to many Truth – Seekers and God – Lovers.

biography by  Tejvan R. Pettinger

WHAT  IS  LOVE ?

Love is the scent with the lotus born.

It is the silent choirs of petals

Singing the winter’s harmony of uniform beauty.

Love is the song of the soul, singing to God.

It is the balanced rhythmic dance of planets –

sun and moon lit

In the skyey hall festooned with fleecy clouds –

Around the sovereign Silent Will.

It is the thirst of the rose to drink the sunrays

And blush red with life.

‘Tis the promptings of the mother earth

To feed her milk to the tender, thirsty roots,

And to nurse all life.

It is the urge of the sun

To keep all things alive.

Love is the unseen craving of the Mother Divine

That took the protecting father – form,

And that feeds helpless mouths

With milk of mother’s tenderness.

It is the babies’ sweetness,

Coaxing the rain of parental sympathy

To shower upon them.

It is the lover’s unenslaved surrender to the beloved

To serve and solace.

It is the elixir of friendship,

Reviving broken and bruised souls.

It is the martyr’s zeal to shed his blood

For the well-beloved fatherland.

It is the ineffable, silent call of the heart to another

heart.

It is the God-drunk poet’s heartaches

For every creature’s groans.

Love is to enjoy the family rose of petal-beings,

And thence to move to spacious fields –

Passing by portals of social, national, international

sympathy,

On to the limitless Cosmic Home –

To gaze with looks of wonderment,

And to serve all that lives, still or moving.

This is to know what love is.

He knows who lives it.

Love is evolution’s ameliorative call

To the far-strayed sons

To return to Perfection’s home.

It is the call of the beauty – robed ones

To worship the great Beauty.

It is the call of God

Through silent intelligences

And starburst of feelings.

Love is the Heaven

Toward which the flowers, rivers, nations, atoms,

creatures – you and I

Are rushing by the straight path of action right,

Or winding laboriously on error’s path,

All to reach haven there at last.

GOD   GOD   GOD

From the depth of slumber,

As I ascend the spiral stairway of wakefulness,

I whisper

God, God, God !

Thou art the food and when I break my fast

Of nightly separation from Thee

I taste thee and mentally say

God, God, God !

No matter where I go, the spotlight of my mind

Ever keeps turning on Thee;

And in the battle dim of activity my silent war cry

Is ever;

God, God, God!

When boisterous storms of trials shriek

And worries howl at me,

I drown their noises, loudly chanting

God, God, God !

When my mind weaves dreams

With treads of memories,

Then on that magic cloth I do emboss;

God, God, God !

Ever night, in time of deepest sleep,

My peace dreams and calls; Joy ! Joy ! Joy !

And my Joy comes singing evermore;

God, God, God !

In waking, eating, working, dreaming, sleeping,

Serving, meditating, chanting, divinely loving,

My soul constantly hums, unheard by any;

God, God, God!

ETERNITY

Eternity

Oh, will that day arrive

When I shall ceaselessly ask – yea, drive

Eternal questions into Thine ear,

O Eternity ! and have solution

How weak weeds grow and stand unbent,

Unshaken ‘neath the trampling current.

How the storm wrecks titanic things;

Uproots the trees,

And quick disturbs the mighty seas.

How the first spark blinked; how the first tree,

The first goldfish, the first bluebird so free,

And the first crooning baby,

Into this wonder-house to visit,

Made their grand entry.

They come, I see;

Their growth alone I watch.

Thy cosmic moulding Hand,

That secret works on land and sea,

I wish to seize,

O Eternity.

MY  SOUL  IS  MARCHING  ON  ! 

The shining stars are sunk in darkness deep,

The weary sun is dead at night,

The moon’s soft smile doth fade anon;

But still my soul is marching on!

The grinding wheel of time hath crushed

Full many a life of moon and star,

And many a brightly smiling morn;

But still my soul is marching on!

The flowers bloomed, then hid in gloom,

The bounty of the trees did cease;

Colossal men have come and gone,

But still my soul is marching on!

The aeons one by one are flying,

My arrows one by one are gone;

Dimly, slowly, life is fading,

But still my soul is marching on!

Darkness, death, and failures vied;

To block my path they fiercely tried.

My fight with jealous Nature’s strong,

But still my soul is marching on!

ONE  FRIEND

Many clouds do race to hide Thee 

Of friends and wealth and fame –

And yet through mist of tears I see

Appear Thy Golden Name.

Each time my father, mother, friends

Do loudly claim they did me tend,

I wake from sleep to sweetly hear

That Thou alone didst help me here.

SAMADHI  

Vanished are the veils of light and shade,

Lifted the vapors of sorrow,

Sailed away the dawn of fleeting joy,

Gone the mirage of the senses.

Love, hate, health, disease, life and death –

Departed, these false shadows on the screen

of duality.

Waves of laughter, scyllas of sarcasm, whirlpools

of melancholy,

Melting in the vast sea of bliss.

Bestilled is the storm of maya

By the magic wand of intuition deep.

The universe, a forgotten dream, lurks

subconsciously,

Ready to invade my newly wakened memory divine.

I exist without the cosmic shadow,

But it could not live bereft of me;

As the sea exists without the waves,

But they breathe not without the sea.

Dreams, wakings, states of deep turiya sleep,

Present, past, future, no more for me,

But the ever-present, all-flowing, I, I everywhere.

Consciously enjoyable,

Beyond the imagination of all expectancy,

Is this, my samadhi state.

Planets, stars, stardust, earth,

Volcanic bursts of doomsday cataclysms,

Creation’s moulding furnace,

Glaciers of silent X-rays,

Burning floods of electrons,

Thoughts of all men, past, present, future,

Every blade of grass, myself and all,

Each particle of creation’s dust,

Anger, greed, good, bad, salvation, lust,

I swallowed up – transmuted them

Into one vast ocean of blood of my own one Being!

Smoldering joy, oft-puffed by unceasing meditation,

Which blinded my tearful eyes,

Burst into eternal flames of bliss,

And consumed my tears, my peace, my frame,

my all.

Thou art I, I am Thou,

Knowing, Knower, Known, as One!

One tranquilled, unbroken thrill of eternal, living, ever-new peace!

Not an unconscious state

Or mental chloroform without wilful return,

Samadhi but extends my realm of consciousness

Beyond the limits of my mortal frame

To the boundaries of eternity,

Where I, the Cosmic Sea,

Watch the little ego floating in Me.

Not a sparrow, nor a grain of sand, falls

without my sight

All space floats like an iceberg in my mental sea.

I am the Colossal Container of all things made!

By deeper, longer, continuous, thirsty,

guru – given meditation,

This celestial samadhi is attained.

All the mobile murmurs of atoms are heard;

The dark earth, mountains, seas are molten liquid!

This flowing sea changes into vapors of nebulae!

Aum blows o’er the vapors; they open their veils,

Revealing a sea of shining electrons,

Till, at the last sound of the cosmic drum,

Grosser light vanishes into eternal rays

Of all-pervading Cosmic Joy.

From Joy we come,

For Joy we live,

In the sacred Joy we melt.

I, the ocean of mind, drink all creation’s waves.

The four veils of solid, liquid, vapor, light,

Lift aright.

Myself, in everything,

Enters the Great Myself.

Gone forever,

The fitful, flickering shadows of a mortal memory.

Spotless is my mental sky,

Below, ahead, and high above.

Eternity and I, one united ray.

I, a tiny bubble of laughter,

Have become the Sea of Mirth Itself.

NATURE'S  NATURE  

Away, ye muses, all away!

Away with songs of finch and fay.

Away the jaundiced sight

That magnifies the firefly’s light

To bonfire bright;

That sets ablaze at once

My musing’s dimly burning lamps;

That ornaments with rhymes

The penury-stricken looks betimes;

That over-clothes the logic – lord

With fancy – swollen words.

Away, the partial love

That ‘boldens Nature to sit above

Her Maker!

This day I fasten eyelid doors,

With absence wax my ears,

With languorous peace congeal

My tongue, my touch, my tears *

That I within may pore

Upon the things behind, ahead,

In the darkness round me spread.

I lock Dame Nature out

With all her fickle rout.

Somewhere here,

In the darkness drear,

I myself with cheer

My course will steer

In the path

E’er sought by all:

Its magnet call

I hear.

Not hear, not here,

Apollo would his burning chariot steer;

Nor Diana dare to peep

Into the sacred silence deep.

Not here, not here,

Not far or near

Can mounts or rebel waves

E’er make me full of fear;

Nor evermore

Their dreadful grandeur to adore.

Not here, not here

The soft capricious wiles of flowers;

Nor swarming storm clouds’ sweeping terror,

Dishevelling the trees

And light-haired skies;

Nor doomsday’s thunderous roar,

Dismantling earth and stars-

The cosmic beauties all to mar –

Not Nature’s murderous mutiny,

Nor man’s exploding destiny

Can touch me here.

Not here, not here:

Through mind’s strong iron bars,

Not gods or goblins, men or nature,

Without my pass dare enter.

I look behind, ahead –

On naught but darkness tread.

In wrath I strike, and set the dark ablaze

With the immortal spark of thought,

By friction-process brought

Of concentration

And distraction.

The darkness burns

With a million tongues;

And now I spy

All past, all distant things, as nigh.

I smile serene

As I expose to gaze.

In wisdom’s brilliant blaze,

All charms of the Hidden Home Unseen:

The Home of Nature’s birth,

The planets’ moulding hearth,

The factory whence all forms or fairies start,

The bards, colossal minds, and hearts,

The gods and all,

And all, and all!

Away, away

With all the lightsome lays!

Oh, now will I portray

In humble way,

And try to lisp, if only in half truths,

Of wordless charms of Thee Unseen,

To whom Dame Nature owes her nature

and her sheen.

ROMANIAN ILLUSTRATOR ZORINA BALDESCU (fantasy - children)

Zorina Baldescu is a talented artist who gave the world the magical world of a fairy tale. Zorina was born in Bucharest in 1954. Graduated from the Nicolae Grigorescu Academy of Fine Arts in 1978, Faculty of Monumental Art and Restoration. Bachelor of Arts. Zorina Baldescu has participated in the most important national and municipal exhibitions. The artist's works were acquired by private collectors from Romania, Germany, France, Denmark, Spain, Austria and Canada, including: portraits, still lifes, landscapes, paintings, reproductions, icons, decorative paintings .But the fairy tales illustrated by Zorina Baldesku are a special, magical and charming world. You can feel a sincere love for the audience, a flight of fantasy and admiration for the beauty of the surrounding world. The curious world invites you to enjoy the fabulous illustrations of the artist Zorina Baldescu.