“There is no meaning in life. The meaning is in sentences, meaning is in symbols that symbolize life. Life itself does not have a meaning because that’s what meaning refers too, meaning refers to life. To look for meaning in life is like looking for trees on a map. You can find squiggles that represent trees but you won’t find the trees there. The squiggles only represent the trees or the rivers. You can’t wash in a river on a map, you gotta find a real river”
— Robert Anton Wilson

 

Do you know what I mean? Do you grok what I’m saying? Do you stand under my words and comprehend them? When you look at a picture or read a poem what does it reveal to you? Is it what the author or artist intended to convey or have you found something independent of their intentions that allows you to take ownership because it has brought you to something or something to you that no one else has seen?
I get real pleasure when someone points out something in my pictures that I had not consciously put there. Oh often when they point it out, I see it but somehow they have taken something that I created and breathed new life into it. In this small way my art has grown beyond me. So when someone says “I love the face that you put in there”. I smile and thank them for being so observant. They have revealed to me something that I had created without realizing it. I can’t image a truer gift.
Blessings, G

 

Click on images to see full-sized:

 

Power From the CentrePower From the Centre by G A Rosenberg

 

MurmurMurmur (#54 in Goetia Series) by G A Rosenberg