The Lost Symbol - Dan Brown



There is a vast difference between looking and seeing.
 As i approach the final chapters of Dan Brown's "The Lost Symbol" I feel like i have taken through my own mind trips over the years with all the readings and discoveries that i have stumbled upon and deduced what they had meant and how they fit in and why they are out there calling out to me to make the effort to learn and understand the mysteries that is a part of my own personal journey into the realm less traveled. my exposure towards the Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, Christianity and the various other religious routes some how has been spelled out for me in this novel, I am reading the novel for the second time as the first time I read it somehow I could not finish it for some odd reason, maybe I misplaced it somewhere and i cannot remember how long ago this was. Now having read it for the second time I am glad that this had happened as for some odd reason what I read now is so utterly clear to me all the connections that it makes for me like I am being led through a spiritual path of my own scattered pieces of jigsaw puzzle.
The MASONIC tEMPLE, (another fingering accident on the capitals), is not something new for me as I drove by, took my kids in the stroller and often sat at its steps often enough when I was living two blocks from the Golden Gate park in San Francisco. If I am not mistaken it sits somewhere on Persidio Drive in the park area and it is called the Masonic Rosicrucian Temple. I had always been attracted to it for some odd reason and made allot of effort to read on the subject over the years like it had some thing to tell me in connection to my self discovery journey. I have met a few gentlemen of distinction who wore the Masonic ring on their finger and one of them who I had the opportunity to work for was my former boss at H&H Ship Services on the San Francisco Waterfront which I believe today is no more there, The late. William Harris Senior was president of the San Francisco Yacth Club for sixteen years, just to tell who he was and in his office he had a picture of himself shaking former President Ronald Reagan's hand. Those who had known 'Big Foot' as we affectionately called him behind his back would testify of his powerful presence.My first encounter with Bill senior was when I was at his office to see his son 'Little foot' as we everyone called him about cleaning his yard in Piedmont, Auckland across the Bay. I might have l might have related this incident in my earlier entries of my Bog relating how i got my job at H&H Ship Service located at 20 China basin off Third Street in Downtown SF. He impressed me as a huge man with a thick cigar in his mouth and a half filled glass of whiskey sitting on his desk while he sat opening letters with a knife letter opener in his hand. It was seven in the morning the time I was told to meet his son at his office in the same building. He paid no attention to me like I was not even there and asked my purpose without looking up from what he was doing. I stood looking down his huge red neck from behind answering like a kid in the presence of a Headmaster, this was when I noticed the big ring on his finger that had some weird designs on it. I had no idea what i was looking at at the time but later on after working with the company for a few years I realized it was a Masonic ring.
I did not understand why I was drawn towards this Brotherhood of Free Masons but I found it fascinating after doing some reading on it over the years and seeing the Masonic temples wherever i traveled in the US. One can find Mason Avenue or street names all over the country and every time I passed by a Masonis temple or Lodge it would trigger my curiosity like a magnet. Then the Dan Brown novels started hitting the literary scene and later movie theaters and this further got me hooked.
I had mentioned of my experience of travelling throughout the South West of the United States through Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona and in one instance while staying with an elderly artist in his studio building in Central City, Colorado I was loaned to read a ' Book of Secrets' of which I was informed only 87 copies were printed and in it I found all the religious symbols of the ancient western world with ornately printed pictures and detailed descriptions of what they were. This was sometime in 1979 and it was from this large black hard cover book that I learned of the Hermetic Movement, the different Greek schools of thoughts like who were the Eclectics of which I had initially wanted to find out. The reason I had asked my elderly artist host about the Eclectics was because i had been called an eclectic in a dream I had while sleeping in my little alcove room on the first night I was in Central City.I had woken up from the dream and wrote the word down as Eklektik because i was not sure of the spelling and was still half asleep.In the dream someone was shouting at me," you are an eclectic!" and it was so loud and real that it woke me up. The next morning when I asked Angelo De Bennedetti what it meant and showed him what I wrote, he corrected my spelling and later that same day took me to a couple living a few miles down the mountain from Central City to a small town of Black Hawk where a couple lwho were potters had lived and it was they who had the book and loaned it for me to ready while I was staying with Angelo. That same evening with the couple, Angelo and I drove to Denver where they showed me Angelo's works painted on the ceiling of the Denver Hall of Justice where 62? figures of 'Law Givers lined the tall ceilling each larger than life and included were figures like Homer and Aristotle, Ghandi and and Madam Sun Yat Sen to J.F. Kennedy: it might still be there. That same evening they took me to a movie ' Pride and passion' if I am not mistaken of the life of  Vincent VanGogh played by Kirk Douglas in black and white.

Angelo DiBenedetto – Artist extraordinaire

He was temperamental, once knocking Jack Kerouac down because the author insulted an opera singer. Angelo DiBenedetto was gifted, outspoken and opinionated, and always listed as one of America’s foremost artists in the 20th century. When he lived in the interior of Haiti for 19 months, he was initiated into the voodoo cult. His chosen home, far from the collectors and galleries and museums that bought his creations, was a tiny Victorian town with one gravel road reaching it.

This son of Italian immigrants was published in Life Magazine to critical acclaim in his 20s, but his second painting for Life was banned in three counties in Massachusetts. Born in New Jersey in 1913, Angelo earned an art degree with honors from the Cooper Union Art School and a scholarship to Boston Museum School of Fine Arts.
In 1976, the Colorado Judicial Department held a contest to choose an artist to paint a huge mural for the ceiling of the breezeway of the new Colorado Judicial Building. From the 22 finalists, they chose Angelo. He had studied mural painting at Harvard University and later in Mexico with Diego Rivera and had painted many murals in the two countries. But this was the largest mural in America at 300 feet long and 10 feet high, a whopping 3,000 square feet. The 74 panels created for the mural each weighed 100 pounds and were made of cement asbestos, an inert material that wouldn’t attack the paint. (The asbestos probably contributed, along with his lifelong smoking habit, to his death from cancer in 1992.)

He hired six other artists as assistants and two years later, the murals were dedicated on Oct. 12, 1978. Sixty historical figures, representing justice and human rights through all ages, were chosen by Angelo; they included both genders and all races and cultures.

Other honors accorded Angelo:

Shows at the National Gallery of Art, the Corcoran Biennial Exhibit in Washington, D.C., the Carnegie Institute in Pittsburgh, Pa., the Whitney Museum in New York, the Chicago Art Institute and the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts.
• Exhibits in more than 100 museums in the U.S. and Europe.• More than 20 one-man gallery shows.
• Inclusion in every list of “foremost American artists” in the last half of the 20th century. Artists declared “He must be included in any list of those who set the direction of art in the mid-20th century in America.”
• Guest lecturer at the University of Colorado at Denver, the University of Denver and Colorado College.
• Two honorary degrees bestowed by the University of Colorado.
Circles dominated DiBenedetto’s late art, including this simplistic piece, Orange on Orange #4
Always an agitator for individual rights, Angelo was the leader in promoting royalties for artists when their works sold again at inflated prices. He was the first, in 1946, to include a contract with his sales that specified royalties in the event of resale or reproduction.
But this “foremost American artist” chose to live in a remote town, far from the center of the art world in the northeast U.S. Always intensely patriotic, Angelo had volunteered for World War II. The Army tapped his training as a cartographer and sent him first to Ethiopia on a secret assignment and eventually to Buckley Field in Denver. The course of his life changed when he first saw Central City.
Angelo said Central City “looked like an empty little Swiss town.” He promptly fell in love with the town, which at that time had one gravel road to it, and moved there in 1946 with his then-wife and small daughter. The huge, run-down Sauer-McShane warehouse on Spring Street intrigued him. The three-story stone warehouse, built in 1886, contained 10,000 square feet of space. He purchased it with his discharge pay and spent six years shoveling out the mud and boulders that had rolled in from the hillside. He leased out the first floor and lived on the upper two floors, reveling in the high ceilings and huge open space. His studio/living area was so cavernous that once he created a retrospective of his art more than 30 years for an NBC television special inside his house. One of his proudest creations was his kitchen table, made from a large packing box. Visitors were encouraged to carve their autographs on the table and scores of famous visitors, such as Gypsy Rose Lee, Helen Hayes and Mae West did
Article by Linda Jones
I spent a week with this extraordinary man and through him I found my calling  as an Ecclectic artist and I did not realize back then that I was living in the shadow of a great American artist of his time! We talked every morning at the breakfast table and during lunch and dinners. He had a huge pot of chicken soup cooked for us to last a week and for breakfast it was the same cereal from a huge gunny sack accompanied by black coffee and a single banana; things one cannot forget. I remember one morning telling him how the small painted statue of the Goddess Kuan Yin sitting on a shelve in his kitchen seemed to glow when I looked at it and he smiled saying nothing. He had two dogs one huge golden retriever named Rufus.Today as i looked back upon the journey that took me three months all over the South West the memory of Angelo came to me like an old encounter which had opened the door towards my spiritual journey as an artist.







      



Waiting for my turn.

Now, no one is saying that we should not be human; that we should not allow ourselves to feel pain, to mourn, or even to admit when something is hard. However, the kabbalists are very clear: if our sadness, pain, or difficulty causes us to doubt the Lightforce of the Creator – it is also causing us a patch of darkness somewhere down the line. That’s the ultimate lesson and gift of this week’s portion – to maintain certainty in the face of pain. If we can hold on to that certainty, we merit a connection to immortality, which means an end to finality of any kind.
                                                                http-www.kybalion.org
Drove this Saturday morning towards the University but made a ppit stop by the Jelutong Highway to catch up with my 'pondok buddies' (fishermen and addicts). Learned that one kid had over 40 stitches on his back and four inch cut down his cheek from a bar fight. Listened to one of the boys tell about how he went about life trying to do good but ending up bad and listend to another who talked of addiction to ciggarettes, he had seen one of his friends picking up a cast away stub just to get a puff  to satisfy his craving and how in the prison they went through the garbage cans to look for cigarette butts; pathetic as it may seem cigarette addiction can be conishered one of the worse and the hardest to get rid off. So I sat and listened while in between reading Dan Brown's Hidden Symbols.
I was at a friends stable yesterday evening doing some sketching of horses and ended doing the whole scenery of the ranch itself that is located up a small hill slope by the Youth Park on the way to the Botanical Gardens. My friend was not there as he is presently in Terenggnau with four of his horses doing the Endurance Race and I wondered if he would meet my Blogging friend Dr. Nik Hawk the surgeon from Selangor. While sketching I had an interesting conversation with a man who had been to India for the 'Tabligh' or religious practice as in a retreat for the Muslims. He dresses like a Taliban off course all in white complete with the goatie and the long hair. He was once also a a fire eater and performed had performed his pyrotechnique skills in many well known resorts in Langakwi. I found that i was able to concentrate better working on my sketching while my mind was entertained by this conversation especially learning all about his trip to India and the Maldives. What it was like for a Muslim to practice while in a Hindu country and what was life like on the streets and he gave me a brief reminder of not forgetting who I am in relation to my Lord; the greatest Sin is still Shirik(sp?) or having a companion to God in faith. I felt the red lights lighting up im my mind as I relfect my own standing in the eyes of the Maker. I have  whole lot to answer for if and when the time comes for my day of reckoning.
Astagfirullah! For the Mercy of Allah. I will cross that ridge when the time comes but for now I will keep on forging ahead with whatever arises before me and take it one breath at a time. I am the world and the world is me, i cannot hide from it no matter in what shape or form it present itself I will have to be present in the moment to accept it and take the next breath.

My late Wife's Legacy for me.

                                                  Another face in the crowd.
Visited a private clinic and the doctor about my age told me that my blood pressure is quite normal for my age and that my headaches is probably due to my eyesight or perhaps due ti sleep disorder of one kind or another. He gave a buch of pills and a bottle of what tasted like your anti acid formula for gastritis. My son in Dubai called to insist that I see a doctor for a checkup and so I did but I know this is just not enough as I need to have a complete checkup and a complete checkup through  good hospital cost more than Rm 2000 I was told and the general hospital takes a long waiting time for time for the results. So I told him that I will see what the medication I have will do for the next few weeks and I will have more done as time goes by.
How does one survive the existing systems without getting derailed by it and commit suicide, as it seems the answer to most of these external pressures is to physically exit this life. Forget about being creative and all that idealistic dream of serving society, how can one serve society when one cannot even serve one's own needs and responsibilities. I have been dedicating my life towards doing good and serving my society, this country in my own way thinking that it return I would be awarded with a more favourable deals by the power that be. However the power that be is as uncaring and callous as the computer that I am working on...totally impersonal and it is only when shit hits the fence like going berserk with a gun in my hand that these so called public servants would open their eyes asking what went wrong. What would prompt a man to commit such crimes, why did he loose his mind, why was he so despaired at life when all is nor so bad for him? Yes, ask anyone who has been dealing with government bureaucracy such as the Immigration, the Registration Department and the Income Tax agencies what they think of these so called people friendly offices; the answer would probably be the same...Wallah u Alam, God knows.
Am I being melodramatic? Perhaps, but the fact that I have to now start making enquiries form the offices in Kuala Terenggany with regard to why I should pay RM5000 income tax for my late wife and it triggers the old 'pain body of having to deal for eleven years with the Immigration Department for my children's citizenship papers. Most of this were written somewhere in my earlier blogging and it was a long and painful costly experience to say the least. But I did it eventually and managed to get my children to become Malaysian citizens without having to bribe anyone for it.
Being a full time artist there is no fixed income as every now and then one gets lucky and finds a buyer for one's works, otherwise it has been beg, borrow or steal to survive. Where is my pride in living as one who is supposed to be gifted as an artist. When asked how can I turn around and say my life is fine and that it could not get any better? But I do and in essence I am living a lie to myself, I am nothing but a pariah who lives like a parasite off other's support and clemency. Perhaps this is why the Buddha had insisted that i give it all up and seek refuge in the forest or the mountains and become totally detached from this life of dog eat dog society: at least for my own sanity. I, however have taken it to be a form of escapism if I were to say to hell with it all and walk into the wilderness and not that I have never done it before. But society is not just the government inept bureaucracy but it includes my children, relatives and friends and what do I tell them? Why did I gave up? Me who is gifted with a creative ability that not too many has; in being an artist? Most talented individuals i have come to meet has turned to drugs and drinks, just like my grandfather and my father, they too were very talented people but their lives were miserable when I look at it and they died poor and in destitute being subjected to frown and reticule by their own children. My father told me of his aches and pains as he grew old living in Terengganu knowing that he was being judged for his ways; namely he was a drunk amidst a strictly Muslim society. I felt for him as I saw myself headed towards the same direction. Such Is, Such Is!
If one is a Bodhisatva in this life, the next time one decides to come back and help more towards achieving awakening, one better be more prepared if not resilient. never come back as an artist! Be sure you come back as a banker or a member of the royal family in Brunei. In this way one could perhaps serve society or humanity better than just rambling daily on the Internet. instead of knowledge and wisdom choose wealth and power, it makes more sense and perhaps gives one greater leverage to serve. All these off course happens due my own self deluded ignorance and none to blame but me. I have made the choices, i have chosen this course of my journey and I have experimented with life instead of simply living it like everyone else. I am that, I am. My mind will never cease to ramble as this is what it is all about for so long as i live, for so long as I breath in and out without being fully conscious of my breathing and one day my shortness of breath will cause me to death. End of story, close the book, and the fat lady stops singing; I am no more!
Oh well it is not all that bad, I am still here and my daughter is home for a short break, while my son in Dubai out of concern for his father had sent me some money for me to get a medical check up. I am grateful for this no doubt and more so because I have children who cares for the well being of their father and who could ask for more in the day and age when parents are more and more being sidelined and forgotten by their children. So in more than one way I should say Alhamdullilah! Thank you Lord for Your infinite Compassion, but for Your Grace things could be worse. So i am still looking at the silver linings behind every dark cloud that passes me by and still holding on to the fact that, 'and this too will pass', thank you Idris Shah for your Sufi insight on the impermanence of life. 

How do you Mend a Splintered Soul?



A Face in the Crowed

                                                    
 I know and accept the fact that I will have a very hard time stopping my thinking mind from going on and on about anything and everything that it comes into contact with, but i will have to stay with it and not let too much thinking overcome my effort in understanding who I am,(Almost sounds like a broken record by now). Yes I have to pull the hand brake and kill the engine park along the roadside and take a deep breath, a few deep breaths to align my myself with being in the here and now. I have to stop drifting away from my path towards self understanding as a means towards liberation. I am at present, as I mentioned to my daughter am not functioning at full capacity and am letting myself get sucked into other people's dramas and the events around me that I have no desire to or have any control over.
This incessant writing is testimony towards how crowded my mind has become of late and how hard I have been trying to divest myself from getting involved with events that does not concern me or my well being as I try to manage my own state of mind. It is manifesting physically in the form of an ailment, perhaps in the form of high blood pressure, or worse. How to remain in 'bare attention' in these moments of pain and anxieties, how to remain in touch with my breath, how to maintain a connection with my spirit, how to become aware and awaken. I write this to help me steer myself towards some remedy in the effort to find a cure for what ails me and this is one of the reasons I ramble. With every entry it is my way of keeping my mind in check, my body in alignment and my spirit not to kow tow before some illusory episode or event, or feel guilty over some remark or decision made in the past. If there is any issue that needs to be addressed it would just have to be economics, how to make some money before I become desperate.
The latest development in my financial woes is with the Income Tax office that has tracked me down to my Penang address demanding the I pay RM5000 for my late wife's back taxes from when she was a lecturer at KUZAR (Kolej Agama Sultan Zainal Abidin) in Kuala Terengganu. According to the the lady at the office when I went to the Penang income tax office by law i have to pay for it as I am the next of kin or waris. I asked why KUZAR had not deducted her income tax from her salary, the beautiful lady just gave me her beautiful kindly smile full of compassion and understanding and said 'Wallah u Alam", only God knows. Yes they deducted from her salary but they deducted very little not the whole amount she was required to pay. Yes blame it on God even when an institution that professes to uphold the Islamic virtues like Kuzar is not infallible and their screw ups is my burden to bear.
What am i suppose to do I asked the sweet lady who admits she has two children to lighten the conversation. Oh sir you just have to write a plea letter to the office in Kuala Terengganu, the files for your late wife is in Terengganu, unless off course if you have cash RM5000 to pay now, you can make the payment here now! Or you can pay in instalments. As for your income tax status  sir, you are clear, all paid up, zero. Wow i am glad to hear that, and I swear to god that I had over one thousand over paid income tax last I checked but...this is the IRS! Prince John and Robin Hood. Just one more pressure for the migraine to chew on. 
This is the story of just about everyone I know of and mine is no different, but i write about it and what good it does for me is evident by the fact that there are those who take the time to read about it. I share my predicaments, my ups and downs yes it is true, but in the process I also try in some small way to share the solutions as to how I try to deal with them as they arise. At this moment I am trying to return to the basic understanding of the teachings of the Masters, to let go and to remain detach from what I encounter. My son Karim has found his escape in shooting his way through a gunfight in a video game and he is lost to what is going on around him; sometimes I envy him. Cannot blame him as I went through the same phase at his age although not in video games although I remember there was a time when I was hooked on it too and my video demon was a game called 'Firefox'. I remember having the machine at Chucky Cheese Pizza place on West Mason Ave., Green Bay, Wisconsin fixed such that for half a dollar my son Nazri was able to play the game for almost three hours while I pigged out on the pizza; it was his birthday after all.
But such is. How do one keep focus on being in the moment and taking care of things as they arise without getting sucked into the details? The judgements, the discrimination's and the discord? How do one 'pick the lotus without wetting the fingers as the Buddha asked? How do we not get touched by our daily activities, how do we remain free from the mind generated world that we have come to call life. We simply cannot, to be able to break free from the bonds of one's own making is to recognize them as such, bonds of our own making. and through acceptance can this attachments to phenomenas be broken, cause that is what they simply are, phenomenas, episodes, happenings, like clouds in the sky they come and they go and the less we identify with them the less are we attached to them. With the practice of bare attention these events will not have too much hold on to our consciousness. With less taken in, very little needs to be let out, hence we are free to observe our minds as it is, not feeding it energy nor being fed with vexations and anxieties by it.   

What else is there to ramble about?

                                                       It is hard on the lower back!
Delivered my 100feet long painting entitled 'Penang Heart and Soul' to the Penang State Art Gallery office on Macalister Road as today is the final day for entry of works for the Penang State Art Competition, the first place winner will receive RM8000.
This a painting that I have been working on since I received the roll of 199feet of drawing paper from my friend and former Dean of the Faculty of Fine Arts at the University Sains Malaysia in Penang. He had brought it with him from England when he was a student there and had kept it in his office ever since till the day he was cleaning out his office to move to Kuala Lumpur where he took up office as the Director of the National Art Gallery.
I started working on this painting sometime in 2008 going to locations where i sat and sketched scenes that I felt most attractive to me in more than in looks but also places I had connections with in terms of familiarity through having grown up in the Georgetown area. The theme of choice is 'Ubah' or Change, which the present elected government is promoting in its move towards making significant changes in and around the city.

I have exposed this painting in three different solo exhibitions and each exhibit was done at the different stages of which the painting was in, the first was all black and white sketches, the next water color was added and finally acrylic was added. It is really still not a finished work as I still keep on adding more and more into it to make it come alive, but as it is my policy, my work is done when I receive a cheque for its purchase or it belongs to someone else. I intend to keep it and work on it as my on going meditational 'master piece' if it finds no interested buyer.
I have the feeling that i am suffering from high blood pressure as my head sometimes feels like it is about to explode and at time my whole shoulder areas seems to be on fire, numb with pain as if the bones within are subjected to frost bite. It is part of getting old and the little pressures that life has to offer does not help either. So i will grit my teeth and bear these physical inconveniences. The only problem is that these aches and pains interferes tremendously with my ability to create in peace. But Such Is, them are the breaks, win some loose some as I move along trying not to give up...and the show must go on. Perhaps i am attached too mcuh to is externally happening in my life and letting myself being subjected to falling down or maybe it is the weather, being cloudy all day and raining all night! I hope and pray i can get back on track of my practice.
After dropping off my work for the competition I took my daughter who accompanied me to the "Jimat' store, the Salvation Army Outlet, where one can get second hand items for practically nothing and where my daughter will spend an hour or so rummaging for good deals and where I found the book "Power Shift" by Alvin Toffler for the price of RM2. Years ago i had read his two earlier works, the "Future Shock" which was read as a college text and later in Japan I read "The Third Wave". These books had great impact on my outlook towards what is happening around me and it was when encountering the Third Wave that i realized the similarity in Buddha's teaching of the three illnesses that man is inflicted with, i.e. Greed, Hate and Ignorance; the flip side of the coin to Toffler's, Wealth, Power and Knowledge.
Although published sometime in 1991 I never came across the book until yesterday and as always on reading the first few chapters i realized that what I have been writing about the Buddha's teaching of Greed, hate and ignorance was actually quite appropriate in conjunction with Toffler's works as he expounds the 'power of knowledge' in his last of the triads. The sword, the jewel and the mirror are the three symbols of Imperial Japan and it is related in their legend of the great Sun Goddess Amaterasu-omi-kami who was given these three objects . Never found out who gave them to her, but it is suffice to say that these three objects reflects upon the three sources of power that if wield with intelligence can rule the world. The United States has come very close to accomplishing this, but their Central Intelligence Agency has yet to fully comprehend what is Intelligence other than trying to dominate and subjugate others, through greed, hate and violence; which is ignorance in its vilest form. America has what it takes but lacks Wisdom, Compassion and the true desire for Peace; the country is not at peace with itself. A policeman carries a gun not just to protect the public but to defend himself, America manufactures weapons not to bring peace to the world but to maintain a strong military force as well as generate an economic stability within the country; it is self serving in the most blatant of intentions.
In today's world we need the policeman but we need the policeman who has no self interest in performing his duties, a man who can transcend above and beyond any corruption and prejudices, a man who truly serves his duty without fear or favour, this is what America should aspire if it is to become an International Marshal or Ranger or Cop. But off course this is too far fetched and altruistic a dream and one would be naive to think that such a venture can ever be propagate by one country even if it holds all three trump cards giving it the power  to rule. Greed, Hate, and ignorance will always prevail over the skilfull use of power, wealth and Knowledge; there are more worldly kings than there will ever be divine ones; the sin of vanity is Satan's greatest tool for corruption of man. Every man dreams of  becoming a movie star, an idol, demi-God , a Julius Caesar in his lifetime and nothing will stand in his way till he is one, the longest ruling monarch, the most wealthiest of men, the most powerful dictator, the most, the most , the most! I want my name to go down in history, yes! I want to be known as the greatest nation on earth...yada, yada! Hail Mahathir! Lord of the Twin Towers! Hail Obama, The first Black President!
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
P. B. Shelly

And this too will pass...Insha'Allah! Change is inevitable and the one consolation that mankind has over all the three sources of 'Power'. The most powerful will one day succumb to being crumbled under its own weight, the most weak will rise to play its legitimate role over nations of the earth as China is proving itself fulfilling its own legacy of rags to riches. This is the legacy of the Dharma Wheel of the Buddha; up one day and down the next. For so long as I am ridng this train I am subjected to its bumpy rides as well as it pristine landscapes passing by the window.

ALAM GHAIB - The Supernatural Landscape.

                                                    ALAM GHAIB - The Supernatural Realm

I have entered this painting the size of an a 8 by 4 feet plywood board for the Pertadingan Seni Lukis Terbuka Pulau Pinang 2013. The painting is now the property of the museum as I had donated it to them. I had priced the painting at 150000RM while it is being exhibited for the competition as stipulated in the clause with regard to entry, that the painting is up for sale. if sold the amount sold for will go directly to MGTF. I hope that being as such there will not be too many objections raised as to whether the painting qualifies for the competition. If it does then I will have scrap the idea and the painting will return to MGTF to sit on the floor way in the back room where no too many will ever get  chance to view it. Inadvertently it will also makes me think four times in the future about donating my works.
Live and learn as I always say to myself, if you want to make the world shake you have to dance if you are dead on the spot the world will dance around you. All those involve in this scenario I have just instigated will stand to benefit from lessons learned with regard to getting jobs done in a more professional manner and not lay back and let someone else take the initiative and then stepping in to bury the ideas because one in not made aware of 'officially'.
This is the case that is starting to manifest as i am writing this entry. I had my intuition that ti will and there is a part of me that like to take a poke at the tar baby causing a chain reaction that is in the hope that it will stir some energy among the staff members here to think and act like professionals instead of buried in their computers updating their Face Book. My work may not make the show but at least it has done something worthwhile to help reinvigorate the lack of energy and enthusiasm at MGTF; I owe it this much. I also owe it to the Penang State Art gallery to be involve with their undertaking with one of my most recent and best work no less. I do not have to do any of these is the final say and save myself the agony of 'details', dramas and simple bullheaded lack of interest vexations haunt me till it is all over. By skillful means anything can be accomplished and aims and goals fully realized, but through ignorance and self serving lack of passion or interest even the simplest idea is doom to failure.
Acceptance means taking things as according to the law,rules and instructions as demanded by the authority that be and with good understanding one can deduce what can and cannot be challenged; this I accept. These rules and regulations were created with the consent of the majority to serve the masses collectively and this is to be duel observed; I accept this too. Any deviation from the norm is subject to the be scrutinized thoroughly by all parties involved and a verdict is agreed upon such that there will be no future misunderstanding with regard to standards of agreement; it means all parties involved must do their jobs skillfully; I have done all I can to produce a work which by right should receive similar amount of energy for from those who are responsible to make judgement over its eligibility in entering the Penang Annual Art Competition.
I am here (MGTF) on a Saturday afternoon trying to fulfill the same requirement fot entering my 100 feet long painting as my second option in the competition, my back up in case the 'Alam Ghaib is being rejected or I have to withdraw it from the show for some technicality...will see how far I get, the deadline is on Monday, two days. The question that is nagging at the back of my mind is, Why do I do it? Why do I take upon myself so much work that involves a whole lot of energy from Spiritual to the physical manifestation level, my works are a part of my spiritual, mental and physical journey. Yes I am tripping as my friends in the States would call it, I am tripping on my life into the future, justifying, making belief, trying to understand, compromising, making decisions I often regret, feeling lost and lonely whenever I think of God; these are what I express in my works. There is always a Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde in all of us and mine I do not even dare to imagine if I allow my ego to dominate my higher self. I am fully aware for myself that as the Old Boy,(Lao tzu once is said to have said, "he who justifies does not convince, no even to himself," I am human and am still attached to these forms and images of good and bad, beauty and ugly...I still posses the dual thinking mind. I am trapped like the rest of us except for the few who have been able to liberate themselves from such attachments, in this circle of life that is going awry by the day.
Now where in the world is so many laws being proposed and propagated than in this country. Laws and amendments are made at the drop of a hat, this is sad because only a kingdom full of criminals deserves so much laws to govern. Malaysia is one of the most well educated nation compared to the rest of her neighbouring countries, this is why we have the problem of 'brain drain'. Most of our intelligent minds migrated not simply they find this country too oppressive towards the growth and well being but they also left because like me it was a necessity, a desire to transcend and change myself, a relocation that can transform who I was, to put myself in an alien land and see what I was capable of doing to survive; 21 years of living in the US was not all fun times or peachy for me; I came one doorstep away from being a homeless in the Streets of San Francisco. I ended up sleeping under a kitchen table through a very dear friend's compassion, this happened on the corner of Haight and Ashbury where 'GAP' store used to be and the AARDVAARK Store sits across the street. Yes I have tasted defeat many times and rebounded to continue the game, climb the next hill and enter a new valley; living to tell my story to the world.
My art is expressions of who I am albeit a small sketch on a napkin paper or done elaborate on a 100 feet long piece of paper, done through my over 60 odd sketchbooks or the hundreds of pictures I have taken in the course of my life and travels. It always been in my mind that I am an artist, sketching, printmaking, painting, these are what I enjoy doing and through these i express myself. later when I found that I can expres my journey in words through Blogging I started writing my Ramblings of the Cheeseburger Buddha. It too became a part of my justification process of my successes and failures as an artist. I discover who I am in the course of gradually becoming more and more involved in doing my works, sharing my thoughts and prejudices, my intuitions and discoveries as I move along; I analyze my life every breath I. move I make and every form it takes.
In one of his utterances, Mahama Ghandi said, "Life is and Experiment, I experiment with my life." I held on to this idea from the moment I read this quote, it made sense to me for what can be more meaningful in life than to discover who or what you are. All the teachings of the great religions were geared towards this journey that one takes towards self discovery, one becomes the observe, the scientist, the artist,..the fisherman or fisher of men. The World is You as Jedu Krishnamurti brought me to understand and you cannot change the world without changing your self. To change one has to understand what is it that needs to change, our mind? mental states/, our spirit or soul? What is Change? Can change happen spontaneously, overnight, or over a period of time? All these questions, aimed at the understanding of the nature of mind and change is being studied and expounded by every great religious teachers, such as the Buddhas, the yogis, the Rishis, Roshis, the tribal medicine man and the Walis or saints (of Allah) throughout human history. Their thoughts and ideas are the guides that I have tried to study and employ as my text in life.
Why do I do It? Why spend so much time and energy in pursuing a course of study that gives my no financial benefit to say the least. Why spend money driving back and forth to this space to write this down? 'Every need has an ego to feed'" Bob Marley sang in one of his songs. What is my need in this commitment towards life, living like I do in the manner that I chose being and artist, and a writer, a spiritual explorer and living hand to mouth like a beggar? My favourite symbol in life is the Alms Bowl that the Buddhist monks carry with them every morning from door to door begging for food. Here the giver and receiver, the act of giving and receiving becomes spiritual. God's greatest gift to man is the beggar at his gate, I heard this said somewhere; I am that beggar, I am that giver.
I might end up having written the longest Blog in Google and that too is okay, the ego needs credit to every effort made, I might become attached to Blogging like I am to smoking cigarette, well, that too is okay, I might find it hard to keep on writing since I am running out of enthusiasm and energy physically and mentally, this too will pass. J.Krishnamurti told his audience in Switzerland that his greatest secret was, "I do not mind what happens."     

Why I feel Melacholy every so often.

                                                       After seven decades of intense living.
When I look back as i always do of how time has flown pass by me and the myriads of moments and spaces I have experienced, the happier and trouble times of my life i cannot help but feel a sense of melancholy deep within me. What have i accomplished, what difference have I made for the better in the lives of others. Sometimes I even get the feeling of being choked up with emotions for no apparent reason as though some repressed issue from the past is just below the surface of my consciousness demanding some form of conciliation. In this blogging I am leaving behind my legacy, my story, my life, imperfect as it is, in it I am also untangling the tangles I have caused in the event of my past experiences. In doing this I may not solve the issues as what is done is done in most cases and cannot be undone, however, I believe in making the effort to fully comprehend what had transpired, what went wrong or what had caused these events albeit positive or negative, I feel a little sense of being relieved, enlightened and sometimes free from the guilt that often comes with the past as Eckhart Tolle termed the 'pain bodies.' Deep rooted Karma, ancient and twisted from time beginningless, I have to sit and gather all my energy in order to set my mind to observe and understand what it is and how far or deep is the cause of my chronic illnesses in all its shapes and forms. Just as I sit and observe the courses of pains occurring in my physical body like the pain in the center of my chest or the nasty migraine that every now and then threatens to split my skull or the minor spasms the runs the length of my arm and the numbness in my left shoulder, I find it possible to make these go away simply by focusing my attention on them through breathing, so i find it easier now than ever to sieve through and heal my heartaches.
As i work more and more on myself I find that most of my vexations, my agitations my sense of being sad ans melancholy originates from my interface with the external, with others. The suffering of others causes me heartaches and pains, their sorrows causes me my sleepless nights, ignoring them is something I find hard to do unless I am drunk or stone to the bone, where my mind is totally dull with euphoric numbness and this is only while it lasts. Under normal circumstances I would be carrying my load every minute of the day making me feel like I am about to sink into the ground I walk on and my shoulders haunched over like a hunchback carrying a load of firewood. Unburdening myself is what i have tried to accomplish, letting go of my baggage, casting off my excesses, cleaning up my closets, emptying my crowded mind...just letting go... but this is never easy, I need the stick on my back or the kick in my ass to wake up from this sleep walking in the world of illusions, Maya. Wake up before I fall asleep for good in ignorance wondering why was i alive in the first place?
" Beings are numberless, I vow to awaken with them,"
The first of the Bodhisattva vows I once took while doing my Mahayana Buddhist Practice and every so often this vow would come to mind and it helps me somewhat to be able to accept the suffering of this world and what my role in it is to be. It helps to make me understand the part of me that sometimes experience the choked up feeling when I meditate in the middle of the night. I fully accept that I cannot change the state of human suffering but i have been told time and again that i can only change myself to accommodate and thus indirectly help to ease the human condition. By acceptance I am able to to deal with my perceptions of the chaos and turmoils that is threatening to engulf humanity in general. I am humanity, I am the suffering and my ignorance is the cause of this suffering. If i can change my perceptions, my consciousness, toward fully understanding this nature of suffering I can help in some small way to bring peace and tranquility into my world. However if I am trapped myself in this world of illusion, then the world is too.

Captain, my Captain!

My son is now officially a Captain with Emirates Airlines so, as any father would be i am very proud of his achievement in his career and if do not mention this in my blog it would not do him justice. I am blessed with having a son who even though has been called the 'Mixed up kid" by his late grandma in Green Bay Wisconsin, has now grown into a full fledged man married to a lovely English lady and is living life in Dubai. He still gets bashed around as a Ice Hockey Goal Keeper and every now and then still throws wild parties for his friends, however he is now settling down to being a good husband and hopefully make me a grandpa. He calls me 'Dork' every now and then and I call him 'Peckerhead' in jest but we feel for each other like father and son even though he grew up missing me most of the time being raised by his mother in Germany after my divorce. Through it all he has grown up into a tough cookie, worthy of being called a captain and...I get to fly first class wherever i go on Emirates, being a father to Captain has its pprivileges.
My son was born in Malaysia at the Asunta Hospital in Petaling Jaya and I was in Penang when he was born and did not get to see him until I arrived from Penang at about ten in the night. One the morning he was born I was working at the office of Hagemeyer Trading Company in Geogetown, Penang while his mother pregnant with him was working in Shah Alam where she was a lecturer at MARA College teaching Business Administration. From the moment I received a phone call from I presume a nurse at the maternity ward informing me that i had a son, it took me the whole day into the night to find my way to the hospital in Petaling Jaya, this was in 1974. It ws the longest day of my life as i discovered that on the same day it was the Chinese Day of Feast for the Dead and all the public transportation were fully booked, not a plane seat or a bus, no train or taxis until I managed to get a taxi which took me half the way to the town of Ipoh in Perak.
I still remember standing by the roadside underneath the street lamp in the drizzling rain with warm tears flowing down my cheeks, beside me were two large suitcases full of baby stuff which my wife had gotten together for the event. As I stood there wondering what to do along came a car, i think it was a Datsun driven by an Indian who asked me where i was headed for and after telling him my plight he told me to hop in and ride with him as he was on the way to KL too. As i sat beside him and to my relief at this God sent angel of mercy, he told me of one stipulation hes has for and that was I had to listen to the cassette tape he plays while driving. It was a 'Puja' or prayer chant to Lord Ganesha, the Elephant headed Deity, saviour od the wayfarers and children, like saint Christopher. At that time i did not realize all these but was willing to listen to the Grateful Dead if i had to for that matter just sol long as i could get to see my wife and child; I was scared in all ways of what might have happened.
My wife was miling her sweetest smile when she saw me enter her room and tears poured freely from her as i hugged her but my son was in the nursery. Fortunately a sympathetic nurse came by and led me to the nursery where she allowed me to enter and hold my son for the first time; I felt the awesomeness of being a father. Four days later with the help of one of my former secondary school math teacher, Mr. Ong Them Loon, I flew the three of us flew back to Penang where we resided at my Auntie's house, the Auntie that had just passed away a couple of weeks ago which I attended in Rawang, Selangor. Four months later we were flying out of Malaysia to Green Bay, Wisconsin. My son was never short of love while he was a child as practically everyone adored him for his serene and quiet demeanour, rarely did he ever complain or raise a ruckus like children do. However even as a child I knew he had a mind of his own and was destined for greater things in life.
After our divorce my wife took my son with her to Germany where whe had a teaching job with the American Military base in Mannheim. I did not see my son for a few years except when his mother brought him back to visit Grandma and me. I made all effort ot meet him wherever I was whenever he was back in the States even when I was living in the Aleutian Ilse, Alaska and later in San Francisco, California. Each of these I made in the effort to see my son is a story in itself, as i had to fly on three flights to get ot Green Bay from Alaska and how I had to Hitch hiked form SF to Green Bay with 67 dollars in my pocket, it took me three days to get to his grandma's house in green Bay. But it was worth all the trials and tribulations I had face getting there and hes was more than surprised to see me as I am sure his mother must have told him to not have high hopes of me being there. Although enstranged, lving apart did not affect our close ties between father and son and thanks to my wife who made every effort to make sure we kept in touch throughout his life. Ironically it made fo a stronger bond between us as a family as my son was able to be and experience more than an average child would; he flew by himself to San francisco when he was 10 or eleven years of age and seemed cool about it when I picked him up at the airport in San Jose, Califonia. I remember him breaking away from the airline stewardess assigned to keep an eye on him and rushed up to me with the same excited look in his face whenever we met  and the Stewardess came up to me and said, "I guesse he is yours!". I jokingly looked over her shoulder and asked. "Is there anymore back there, I don't know about this one!" My son shouted, "Dad!"
It was one of the best visit I had with him. It was during this visit that he had his first helicopter flight over the Golden Gate Bridge where he sat by the pilot in the front seat. Upon his return he did a sketch of the whole Golden Gate and Marin Coastal area bird's eye view showing places like Green Gulch Farm in the distant Muir Beach area and Sausalito.
Later in his life my son did his college studies at the San Jose State University and was living some sixty miles from me in San Francisco and by then he had two more siblings from my late wife Nancy. He came to visit us every weekend and would lavish his younger brother and sister with all kinds of toys and lugged his younger brother all over san Francisco. I would attend his Ice Hockey games and at one time was treated to a San Jose Shark's game where I almost fell asleep and he lost his wallet. I was lving in Sendai Japan by then and had returned to pay him a visit and check out out his lving condition in college; he was living allot better than I was as far as comfort went, thanks to his mom. When he graduated from High School in Berlin Germany, i made a trip there to attend his graduation ceremony where among other things he was to relinquish his position as Battalion Commander for the ROTC or R.O.T.C. is the Reserve Officer Training Corps. Its an officer commisioning program for college students. I watched him as he handed the battalion flag to his successor with a father's pride. yes i told myself this 'Peckerhead' is destined to lead. I stayed with him for ten days while his mother left for Hawaii with her husband. I got a small piece of the Berlin Wall before it was torn down thanks to my son and his buddy for chipping the Wall under the cover of darkness! While I was visiting him he drove me to Lipzig in his mom's Mercedes and had me clinging to my seat on the German Autobahn at breakneck speed and there was a Bulldog slobbering all over the back seat as though it was a lazy Sunday afternoon drive to the Chuech while there I was hanging on to my dear life in the hands of a newly liscenced to drive kid driving his mom's mercedes on a German Autobahn!
I can keep reflecting all the episodes that had forged our relationship over the years and still my son has not ceased to amaze me in his out of the ordinary antics. I know he has a warm heart and most of his friends would testify to this and his one weakness, like his Dad is women! I hope that by being married now all that too is being put to and end and that he will further rise above the ordinary and make of himself someone worthy of being the Captain of the Soul, (Not 'Soul Plane' Captain!) In his hands will be the fate of hundreds of passengers and may God watch over every flight he makes that he takes off and return safely to the ground and that as i always reminded him never to forget the ground he walks on when his head is in the clouds! I love and am proud of of you Nazri Bahari.  

Waste Not-Want Not



You are already dead before the battle.
Yesterday I attended two weddings, one in the Kampung where i lie and the other at G-Hotel in the porch area of Gurney Drive. One was for the wedding of a childhood friend's son while the other was for the Son of my twin brother's in law a Chinese doctor married to a Malay. At one wedding it was an outdoor affair underneath three tents in the scorching midday sun while the other was held in a banquet hall of a five star hotel completely air conditioned. Sadly enough for me the food was the same for both venues as i have become lless interested eating, my appetite for food has become overloaded from eating so much varieties of food from day one till today that it will have to be one hell of an extraordinary culinary creation that will get me to raise my eyebrows whenever i eat these days. I would rather prefer to munch on peanuts and sunflower seeds or some crunchy fruits like the Jambu or guava or mangostine, my favorite fruit. I avoid chicken as much as possible and only eat beef occasionally in the form of a Tahi style soup with losts of ginger and black pepper- raises the blood tmperature.
The amount of left over food food at these events is phenomenal and i get a first hand observation of this as my home is also one of the major catering business in the state. Sometimes leftovers can be to the amount that can feed an entire community and most of it especially rice finds its way into the garbage bin and if fortunate enough will later be collected by the Pig Farmer who comes by late at night to sort out and take away what the pigs can eat. But this does not happen if the dump truck gets to it first. It is a sin how we waste especially food where all the ingredients and preparation and distribution from A-Z cost money and manpower. There is hardly or no recycl;ing programme of any kind in this state where food is concern and turning waste biodegradable products into compost or some other use is practically unheard of. I have been making it my effort to distribute leftovers from the catering business to the neighbors every chance i got as I hate to see pots of chicken curry being dump or fifty or sixty kilos of nasi minyak being left by the dumpster. But there is only so much that one can do to combat food wastage and as always the case, it is only when shit hits the fence as in the form of scarcity like during the Japanese occupation that people will wake up to realized what waste is.
If one can figure out as i did what goes into the preparation of a pot (large pot) of chicken curry (Ayam masak Merah) or beef curry ( Dagign Kurma), one can appreciate how much we waste by over doing it. The spices used in itself is phenomenal starting with the amount of cooking oil, then the various spices which in themselves are expensive and as it is becoming more and more hard to get as the world glut for these items are ever on the increase. Turmeric, Annis, Paprika, Nutmeg, to name a few ingredients that is thrown into the boiling oil, then comes the various other ready mixed spices, the Beef curry mis or the Chicken curry mix,followed by the cans of tomato soup and milk and coconut milk and the list goes on and on till the taste is acquired and the amount is enough to feed half a battalion of foot soldiers. It is always in the catering business to make more and avoid not having enough food to go around at the event.whatever the occasion may be. I have seen trays of food being returned untouched for one reason or another.
Will we ever be able to stop this form of wastage in the future? Perhaps, if each and everyone of us can take what is really enough for the stomach and not cater to what the eyes sees and wants. Attending two weddings in one day is a good place to start to learn how to budget our intake and in Malaysia sometimes on a weekend one is invited to four or five weddings on a weekend and every wedding has to outdo the other in terms of food. Makan Kenduri or Feasting is a norm at every occasion such as weddings and open houses during the annual Ethnic celebrations such as Hari Raya and Chinese New Year or Deepavali is a norm in Malaysia, but on the other hand rising in food cost is also a big issue that all of us worry about day to day. Imported food related items is ever on the increase in this country as most arable land is devoted to fuel related items such as the oil palm industry and rubber being the major crops covering thousands of acres of land in Malaysia compared to food related crops. We import beef, chicken, and even fish from neighboring countries when in actuality these items could be found readily available here if the demand of these items were not so huge especially in times of festivities. Being frugal and not over expanding our guests list to such events can help towards curbing wastage whether we have a wedding in a small village or at a five star hotel. Those who attend these events too should be more conscious of how much they can consume and not leave a plate half full of leftovers when we leave the table. Gluttony is not a healthy habit even if there is plenty to eat.    



Regurgitating my past...Comtemplating my Future.

                                               I Love  Japanese Art and Culture. Had lunch at Taman Saadon where my cousin Cik Nab and her husband Cik On (own) has a Masakn Melayu roadside stall and met an old friend from Sungai Pinang whose family was like my own whose younger brother who died at the age of twelve was my closest friend. I visited his mother twice during this years' month month of Ramadan still living but she would hug and kiss me calling me her precious cause i reminded her of her lost son. A little off the track for those who are not familiar with my personal life story of which I occasionally turn away from the the main highway and revisit some old haunts at the back of my mind...stashed away for moments like these.
Also present was his son and one of my nephews who i just learned I have to my pleasant surprise, he is married to my last remaining uncle, Paul Baba also nkown as Ba Selong (Ceylon Ba!) among his friends as he was adopted by my grand father who was Sinhalese Ceylonese. but is known as Ma' Ba to every one or To'Ba to the younger generations; his is a tough act to follow. We talked allot about my late Auntie Ma'Timah Bidan who incidentally delivered both this father and son into the world and they told me they have a video of the father's wedding and in it is my auntie the most busy in the video. The father related to me how my auntie would keep attending to her after birth care with herbal medicinal and massage therapy to help the recover from child delivery...minyak angin ( massage oil) Ma'Timah was a very well sought after remedy that had become a common house words and it was a cure for all from a stomach ache to sprains and twists; most of her services were pro bono, Ex gratis, Free of charge.
Her house was like a social welfare home where anyone and everyone needing a home could use it in transit till they move on, my friend went on telling his son, for this she was not popular with her immediate family, as it was hard on their lives living among so many some of whom she even adopted for good. 'Anak anggkat Ma'Cak ...adopted child of the oldest auntie as they were fondly known.
I write this to remind me or anyone who would edit my blog into a cohesive piece of Rambling can expand more on the subject of my most beloved and feared auntie...Ma Timah Bidan, the Midwife from Sungai Pinang, Kampung Selut. It will also help them to ascertain the source of information's. There i sat having lunch whose mother was delivered by the same midwife who delivered him and his present son! The son is presently a contractor by profession, from what I gather during their conversations. My late auntie had left and indelible mark of her presence during her time in the village and around the Island of Penang.
As i was weaned by her from birth my auntie is also by Muslim belief to be my blood mother and thus sometimes i believe what kept me from going overboard with my life like ending up a drunk or a drug addict, and instead pursuing the course of self discovery towards keeping on the 'right track'i nhtis life is due to her genetical,influence in my blood. In short my acts of caring and love, understanding and sympathy's are all due to having her milk flow into me as an infant being adopted away from my mother who kept my twin brother who was older than me by half an hour.
Such Is...Life!
As I might have said fifty times in the course of my blogging, it is for my children if and they so incline to read, that they will discover bits and pieces of who they are or where their 'roots' grow forth from. my soil runs deep in terms of lineange and genetical combinations of the human DNA and theirs is even further up the line what with their Caucasian mothers' blood lines. My first was of German ancestery and my second was of Swiss, my third was of German/English? She was an adopted child who never knew who her real mother was and had psent a good part of her life while with me looking for her. So my children will have to become conscious as much as possible of their past heritage in bloodlines and genetical spiral. If nothing else it makes for less boring things to do.
Afterall and this too shall pass...for so long as my mind can look back and reflect upon theevents of my past why not enjoy it as there will come a time in the not to distant future that my mind might slip out and refuse to look back or foreward anymore. I could be reading a good novel while letting the Universae pass me by or i could sit here and reach out to the rest of the world with my tedious ramblings. It really matters not which I chose to do but whether while my time away buried in a novel or tell my story in my blog, what matters is that am here breathing and doing what i love to do...ramble.


As a Buddha's disciple, he ought to nurture a mind of compassion and filial piety, always devising expedient means to rescue and protect all beings. If instead, he fails to restrain himself and kills sentient beings without mercy, he commits a Parajika (major) offense.
                                                                                  The Brahma Net Sutra

The First Commandment; Thou Shalt Not Kill.
                                                                 God. through Moses.
All religions ask the same of man, the he obeys s certain code of conduct for his own survival as a specie and it dates way back to the 'Law of Manu' in India, it was said to be the first covenant between God and man...where the Lord had laid down the precepts... for what it is to attain towards being Al Insan Kamil, The Perfect Being, The Awakened being; not the guy half the time in limbo zone or the twilight zone drifting through life in a bubble of ignorance. Don't take life, be loving to your parents, how hard can that be to understand?



Meditation in Action
It does not get any easier as one gets further down the road of life especially when it comes to having the energy to perform something physical or strenuous. The whole body seems to rebel cursing and swearing in the forms of aches and pains from the moment I get out of bed till I am fully aligned through my breathing exercises and stretches.It helps to get all those blogged areas free from energy blockage and i often feel relieved from all the minor aches and pains due to poor condition of sleeping on old mattress with spring about to pierce your back at any given moment in your sleep. The past few days of sleeping irregularly on living room floors and sofa cushions has caught up with me and my back is crying out murder.
The mind too is busy attaching itself to each and every episode that has been experienced while navigating the courses of events of the last  few days in KL. It is the nature of the mind to contemplate every event in the effort to make sense out of all that has transpired, adding and subtracting, judging and formulating what should or could have been or what aught to be. It takes some time to detach from all these events and episodes such that they are dispersed into the non essentials of life. To attain to a clear head again will tkae time and more sitting to strengthen the act of 'Bare Attention'. Hence my one refuge is to continue my work on the 100 feet long painting as you see above (pic).
 The well being of Body and Mind is crucial for a healthy development Clear Intuition and not to mention the act of Ccreativity especially for an artist. Long hours of sitting ang sketching or painting demands for good discipline in being able to remain in the Here and Now. Mind and body has to be synchronized to work together without external or inner pollutions and this can be attained only through Right Mindfulness. Hence to attain to Righ Mindfulness the mind and body has to be quiet as though they are not even there and the action itself of painting or wwriting comes into being. For most people it is most difficult to start on a project, to get both body and mind to become subservient to what needed to be done, the preparation, the setting up, the establishing of the time and space for the action to happen without any interruption or distraction. Herein the reflection upon the teachings of Raja Yoga or King of Yoga practice comes into mind that:
"I am the master of my thoughts and consciousness,
I am the Master of my Body Speach and Mind,
I am the master of my circumstance and environment...and so forth.
If for no other reasons these are reminders for me to bring my body and mind back into the path of Practice. If I am not the master of my thoughts and consciousness, who is? Who dictates what or how I think or act, it may have used to be my teachers and those who knew me better but at my age i need to learn to step over and beyond these crutches. I have to be the master and not the other way round. To be the master of my own destiny i have to learn be to master of every aspect of who I am on a daily, moment to moment basis I have to become fully aware of my ups and downs, my moods and agitations, my external corrupted influences that is dragging my mind into more and more accumulations of negative impulses and consciousness, I will have to maintain a healthy distance from being sucked into the votes of the mundane life and return to my Right Path. it is no big thing but simply waking up from getting too wrapped up in too much thinking.
Real great works are done effortlessly or so it seems as is evident in the Chinese and JJapanese Cculture and the Arts, their works seem to manifest from within spontaneously like it was there all the time and only needed the right time and circumstances to manifest into a work of art. They capture the essence of what is rather than the exact form as it is seen by the untrained eyes. A few simple basic line placed in the right places with the right tones and tensions will become a majestic mountainous scene, with rivers and shrines. A scene so majestic that an average mind on contemplating the work will find itself walking through the thick forest, up the slopes and into the ravines, ride the wooded boats and enter the ancient shrine to drink tea with the master far off into the mountain side; 'clouds hidden whereabouts unknown.'

  

                       A Landscape by Miyamoto MusashiMiyamoto Musashi (宮本 武蔵?, c. 1584 – June 13, 1645), also known as Shinmen Takezō, Miyamoto Bennosuke or, by his Buddhist name, Niten Dōraku,[1] was a Japanese swordsman and rōnin. Musashi, as he was often simply known, became renowned through stories of his excellent swordsmanship in numerous duels, even from a very young age. He was the founder of the Hyōhō Niten Ichi-ryū or Niten-ryū style of swordsmanship and the author of The Book of Five Rings (五輪の書, Go Rin No Sho?), a book on strategy, tactics, and philosophy that is still studied today.

Better known for his Art of Swordsmanship, Musashi was one of the most sensitive and dexterous in the art of Sumi-e in the history of Japanese Art and Culture; He had understood the practice of Right Minfulnessand and Detachment. The transitory nature of existence is depicted in every aspect ofhis ventures albeit in battle or art. He found the truth in good balance between life and death, Light and dark and his contribution to the Japanese Art and Cultural History is on par with Katsushika Hokusai or Utamaro if not more so for he put his practice to the test at the edge of the Samurai blade.

My final Farewell to Ma'Cik Noni

After the funeral the same evening I was at my cousin Zakaria's home attending an engagement ceremony for his daughter. The theme for the occasion was to be Arabian Night...everyone in the 'Jubah' the men and the ladies and there was even a shisha set up in the driveway. My cousin outdid himself again as is his nature, not to show off but to share wealth in all its forms together with his family, relatives and friends, To be able to do what he did is no small feat not to mention the cost. Kudos for my cousin someone who has always been there for me financially as well as spiritually.
It was a beautiful evening except that the main fuse caught fire and there was a total blackout and it had to happen just when the guests arrived and everyone was taking their stations, the negotiators, the parents, the big guns in the community of friends, just like an Arab gathering. This ironically made it more 'Romatic ' as the ritual went on despite the circuit breaker burning fro an overload. It was a ceremony by candle lights as the Arab doctor ordered! This was the comment made by the bride to be while she was sitting on the dais entertaining picture taking.
Such Is, life goes on with or without you, you r bury one and celebrate the other ALL ON THE SAME DAY. Spending the rest of the sleeping on the carpet in the living room was welcome but a painful break. Sleeping on sofa cushions is getting to be a habit and it causes more pain than rest for my bones especially the neck and the lower back. But... it is a whole lot better than laying on your back day in day out in the hospital staring emptily at the TV or reading over and over the daily News. The next morning I found myself in Senawang, Negeri Sembilan visiting my one of my cousin's elder brother.
Abang Hasan as everyone calls him was at one time a school teacher and taught at Penang Chinese Girls School way back when. Then became a translator for a local shoe company and has ever sine been its employee, his Chinese employer thought highly of his services that his salary is still current even after his retirement and the company is paying for his medical bills. He told all these after I asked him what his first employment was, I asked because looking up from the news paper i was reading I noticed the pain and boredom in his face as he struggled to grab the water from the bedside table. He needed to be distracted from his condition even if just for a moment, I reached out to bring his consciousness back into the Now away from the compressed and congested feeling often leading despair. The reason I am telling this is also because of the comment he went on to make as soon as others came into the room, 'I am being interviewed, ' It is the manner in which that It is said that makes me feel the same feeling whenever I meet this man: condescending. I was almost pushed to say out loud that No, Sir it was just to see if you have become senile yet, your memory is fine still, sir. If your memory is still ok your mind is ok except it has given hope and the desire to survive, so the option is to lay back and enjoy the quiet and the rest with "Amalan" , Practice. if you need a sidetrack check out the nurses every now and then just to raise your blood pressure and get that heart pumping a little bit faster. This was what i wanted to reply but I chose to be the naive interviewer. Such Is!
All in all my trip to KL was an enlightening experience in more than one way. It was a blessing to be able to be with my relatives especially my cousins who had just lost their mother. I can only say to them to accept and move on. Make her proud!
Tawakal kepada Allah, dalam hidup cari keberkatan dan keradhaan Allah, dan jagan lupa bersyukur kepada Allah!  Al Fatihah!
 

What is Zen -Jamie Yahaya asked.

Zen Is not the Japanese word for Chan which not the Chinese word for Dyana or the Sanskrit word that does not actually mean a Meditative State of Mind...Zen is not getting lost in Kl especially at night Jamie! So pay attention to your driving and get us there in one piece!
"So you wrote about this Bare Attention, please explain... alamak!~ I think I should have taken that exit..."
Great! and what is this about Bare attention? Bare attention is like seeing nice piece passing by and Not having you jaw dropped and tongue hanging like a Doberman. bare attention is not giving forms to what you see or experience more than what it is...wow what a pair of jugs!! love those round asses! Shot himself! Why? must be some loans or something and it goes on and on rambling just like it is doing in this blogging; Bare attention is learning to detach one mind from unnecessary attachment to details of everyday experiences, perceptions, impulses and consciousness, in short it helps you to clean up your mind. To create a more spacious and less toxic mental state from which we act.
Bare Attention is like Detached Involvement, sounds like a well worn cliche, but still very relevant if one is serious into self discovery or self healing, or it is sometimes describes as 'Wu Wei! or Inactive Action as Alan Watts talks about this subject. It is 'Effortlessness" as the practice of Zen seeks to master in their practice...the effortlessness to in sitting and standing and walking...otherwise Zen is only a Japanese word for...Chan which they most probably could not say properly and added it  with a forceful flavor to sound more like the samurai way of saying Kiri!!
"Where are we now Jamie? Are we lost yet?!"
"No la! don't worry i am just looking for the mosque then i can turn left!"
You know if i were Jamie I would be practicng 'Being Here Now part of my blog! Like what is it to be here right now and not get lost and miss our already ordered lamb chops! Lamb chops should be eaten fresh off the grill Jamie, not an hour after!
"Here we Are! I think! Ayo! parking four ringgit!..."
"Sorry about your loss Sis! and i am for one very proud of what you have done for your mother, it is by my slandered a textbook item. A story worth telling and i am happy to know that your have found your calling now as a great Toast-Madame. Go tell it on the Mountain Jamie! Yours is the triumph of the spirit. Now let us go and chew into those lamb chops Jamie...never mind what happens next!"


 

My Mother told me there would be days like these...

A Poor rendition of Joan Miro.

                                                               Juan Miro This is a Catalan name. The first family name is Miró and the second is Ferrà.
Birth name Joan Miró i Ferrà Born (1893-04-20)20 April 1893
Barcelona, Catalonia, Spain
Died 25 December 1983(1983-12-25) (aged 90)
Palma, Majorca, Spain
Spouse Pilar Juncosa Iglesias (1929–1983)
Nationality Spanish
Field Painting, Sculpture, Mural and Ceramics
For those interested in Art I would like to share from time to time some of my favourite Artist of the past. If I am asked to choose one among the many of the Masters whose original works I have seen in the Museums and Galleries in Berlin, Chicago, San Francisco, Tokyo, London, Dubai to name a few places I have by the grace of Him I could be there in person: I stood a few inches away staring into the eyes of Vincent Van Gogh from his oil self portrait painting in its original in Chicago, I felt the whole power of the European Creative Mind in its genius form staring back at me; it was like staring into the European Heart and Soul.
Enough about art. My mother's younger sister passed away, and I found this out waking up late as usual on Saturday, and I drove my Kancil, and I left Georgetown sometime just after eleven. Thank God I still a few hundred left from all the money made and spent in the last few weeks, so I felt comfortable getting there, but it rained sometimes like pour by the buckets with fireworks and thunder and all, so it was a slow driving; just what the doctor ordered because the option is worse for me driving in the scorching hot afternoon. Spent an hour or so looking for the house in Rawang and missing the burial. Perhaps it was meant to be that I was there, but was not able to see the woman who raised me from birth when I was adopted by my uncle. I was her son till my own family readopted me back into the fold at the age of twelve...that is another long and tedious looking back,k what Eckhart Tolle calls the 'pain bodies'.
She fed me and made sure I went to bed safe and sound beside her and she would scrub my skin with a laundry soap and clothe washing scrubbing brush like they ones they scrub down horses with till there was no more skin left but sheer raw pain especially when you walk out in the burning hot sunshiny day! and this for swimming for hours in the "air passang" or high tide, where I spent my childhood days...I loved every minute of it. She was one of the first batch of City Council buses in Georgetown and was ever so humble, and one of the most beautiful bus conductresses during her time. I will miss her being around, as she was the last of the last of C. Paul Mariano's children, of whom my mother, Gayah Binti Talib or Somanawati her original given name (It is on my birth certificate), was the eldest, then came my uncle Paul Nanda and the last was my auntie Noni, as she was known throughout her life. It is with her being gone that I realized my Ceylonese or Sri Lankan lineage has slipped into the past. My auntie was the most devoted of Muslims I have come to live with and grew up with. Only she could tell of my struggles in life from the day I was born, the younger of the twins, till the day she died. I am glad I was able to hold her in my arms for the last time when I visited her in the hospital and massaged her feet when I visited her at her son's house in Rawang, Selangor.
I am not particularly disappointed if I do not see where or she was buried, I never did see my mother's, but only once, after she was buried, and I am yet to visit my wife Nancy' resting place in Waterloo, Illinois, is it? I was raised and crushed by some of the most awesome women, and I am today who I am partly is from learning what I had in dealing with these ladies, my mother, my aunties, my in-laws, and so on. Women is God's second greatest of His creations next to Life itself. Despite all shortcomings with the opposite sex, I hold women to be indeed beneath whose feet lies heaven. (or Hell).
In the teachings of Tibetan Buddhism and the Principle of the Kalachakra Tantra, All Beings in this universe have at one time or another been our Mother; this is why we treat others as though they were. Man is half complete without his companion and this is one of the causes of so much violence created my men. In the Eastern tradition, it is the lack of balance of the Yin and Yang Nature in our minds that is creating so much discord in our lives. This can happen if all forms of manifestations. In yesterday's Daily papers was the story of a police man shooting and killing his wife and father-in-law and then turning the gun on himself; he was a fine man, according to his brother. What happened? To understand this event and many like it that is plaguing our society is the responsibility of Social and Welfare Agencies and the Institutes of Higher learning's dealing in this issues; this is the state of mind that has met its dead end, despair, no sense of Conscience much less Compassion or Love,; what made for such a tragedy? and we are more concerned with who gets to use the word 'Allah!"
When I finally arrived in Rawang, the area was practically flooded already, and i spent driving back and forth looking for my nephew's house, which I had only visited once before at night. I arrived when it was all over and everyone had gathered back at the house after the burial. Oh Well...Such Is! We spent the night at Bukit Beruntung, where Jamie and my auntie actually live. I was driven there by my cousin's husband and I call him 'Brother Ray'. Raymond is from England and a permanent resident through marriage here, where he has a son we call JJ. His wife, my cousin sister, we call Zowie, and they make a great couple, a good balance. Ray drove me to the house together with JJ. At the Toll Station, Ray took the highway South towards Kuala Lumpur instead of going North towards Penang, where our destination was only five kilometers iin the next exit. We made a U turn five to ten minutes down the road and had to pay for a few Tolls to get there finally which pissed the Brother more than his English Gentlmanliness refused to let show. Then after unloading the car and settling down for the Manchester United Vs Crystal.., something plays ( I am no Soccer fan). Brother Ray realized that he had misplaced his wallet. The fact that Manchester won by two goals had no positive effect on the brother's mood for the rest of the evening and till the next day where police report was made and so much self mortification had taken place i am sure with the Brother whose luck in business has been short of a disaster of late. The wallet was later discovered at the very bottom of my bag, which was in the car, and into which the Brother had mistakenly stuck his wallet while emptying his car...long story.
I have grave concerns for Brother Ray and i hope his future can change for the brighter of he will have to come to certain terms with himself as to how to accept his 'pain bodies' and move on... the days of Mad dogs and English men are gone today it is being in tune with being here in this moment in time and the acceptance who our own self created reality; I can only say as the eldest in the family that more than ever Ray needs Zowie in order to heal his own pain bodies for reasons only Ray would know. It is best i say it now rather than after the damage is done... seek help if need be for JJ's sake.
Then there is this long-time feud, an animosity between Zowie and her younger brother Sham, which till this day no one other than themselves knows what, which deprives both their children of the love and respect from each other. Those who have other siblings and relatives are sad and concerned. Well, they will have to come together and iron it out much sooner than later or die sinners in the Lord's eyes; the Breaking or cause to the breaking off 'Silaturahim' is a major sin in Islam, correct me if I am wrong, please. I have been forewarned time and again that Islam is uncompromising as a religion when it comes to cardinal sins. READ!~
While Brother Ray was watching the MU vs. Crystal game loud on TV, I lay down on my auntie's bed in her small room I sat instead, I am Who I am! My strength and weaknesses, my wisdom and follies, my humour and sorrows, I am all of that and more, was all I felt while being in the presence of my "Mother". Help to heal those who need help. Be as you are; that was all that I felt like she was telling me. I felt free from constraints, and then there was a knock on the door, softly, then getting louder and almost desperately loud! I went to see who it was, and Brother Ray was obliviously lost in the soccer field somewhere in England, hardly even noticing my going to open the door...relatives! Being here in the moment, in Time and in Space, being in alignment with what is transpiring within the range and scope of our attention and consciousness is good practice; otherwise, we unconsciously find our escapes from reality.
The Buddha calls it Right Effort in the line of the Eightfold path practices.
What is Right Effort?
I bid my adopted Mother and Auntie, known as MaCik Noni binti Talib a beautiful journey back home as she belongs among the Loved Ones, the Light of Allah! May the Lord take her into His Comfort and Mercy and place her among the familiar faces of her mother and father to welcome her in spirit. I ask my Lord to shower upon her all the feelings of Happiness and Gratitude for having arrived safely upon the other shore without any intervention save that of the Holy Prophet of Allah.
Before I END THIS LONG AND tedious DETAILED RAMBLING, I would like to mention my utter love and respect for my sister Jamie, the pillar of hope and determination (Big Pillar!). Words do injustice to how one feels about someone who has triumphed over all odds and delivered a service to her mother for as long as she can be remembered. Jamie is the eldest of the three sisters, the next is called Mama by everyone, and the next is Zowie, then comes Sham; Jamie held them together by accepting her role to be the caregiver to her mother. She has me in awe and respect, and this is not her only accomplishment; she is going to be one of the Judges for a major Toastmasters' Event in the City. How can one not respect a lady who ohhwelll... You know Big! Like BIG Big! dare to stand before some hoidy toidy crowd of Toastmasters ...when you look at Jamie, you go Huh! Huh! Nah! Really?! Why Not? Why, Off course! It is Being Jamie! If Opra can do it, why not Jamie? While driving into KL for dinner at Kampung Baru  HR Steak House in her Kancil!, Jamie asked me a 'personal question', What is Zen?