On understanding what intuition is..............

''Intuition does not denote something contrary

to reason, but something  outside of the

province of reason.''

(Carl Jung)

What is ''intuition''?

One possible way of defining it is that it is: 

Knowing something that you didn't know

that you knew or/and knowing something

subconsciously before your do consciously.

I don't remember how old I was (9?) when I first

experienced the subtle feeling of just knowing

something I couldn't possibly have consciously

 known, but, it possibly saved my older

sister's life.

Walking down one of Stockholm's busiest streets,

my sister and I were prattling on, totally oblivious

of the heavy traffic surrounding us.

Just about to enter a crossing, suddenly(intuitively

I now know), my right arm (as if spring loaded) shot out 

and pulled my sister back from crossing the street.

Had I not done so, my sister would have been

crushed by the car that drove past the very same

second that she would have been crossing the street.

Intuition is often referred to as a ''gut feeling'' and

or a ''sixth sense'' but it is not something that

comes in ''one size fits all''.

Intuition, as far as I can ascertain, is the ability to 

subconsciously know something without

 first having to analyze, reason or process 

that something.

As it does not come in ''one size fits all'',

it is something we can develop with the

help of paying attention to our gut feelings

when we have them.

Intuitions can be very subtle. They can be

experienced as a ''whisper'' telling you:

''Something's wrong, I don't know what, but I

 can feel it. ''Something feels, sounds, smells,

etc. etc. strange about this."

''I don't think I should do xyz...it don't feel right.''

According to those in the know(experts), there are

different kinds of intuition such as:

Holistic Intuition founded on extensive experience

and training. (Cops, First Responders, Fire Fighters etc.)

Creative intuition, often a driving force for people

involved in the arts and the art industry.

(Suddenly there's a spark, an idea, a new thought

(seemingly out of nowhere).

Often people who work with people in any

of the many different categories of social/

community work have a highly developed

 Social Intuition sensitivity.

(Ability to sense deception and insincerity)

There is also something called Affective Intuition. 

This is where your gut feelings spring forth from as

 in: it's guided by our internal physical sensations

and emotions.

A bit technical, methinks, so......intuition

is something we all possess but have different

levels of being able to notice or recognize.

However, the good news is that it is also

something we can with a bit of work... improve.

Surrounded as we are by all sorts of people

trying to deceive us whether on line or in real life,

I reckon a fine tuned sense of intuition is

worth a bit of attention.

Mind you, someone may ask:

How do I recognize the difference between

anxiety and intuition?

Some suggestions:

Intuition is an awareness of what is happening

in us now, ...... physically and psychologically,

and nudging us to respond to the present moment.

Anxiety is about the future, about the what if's and 

the possibility of any of the imagined fears eventuating.

I imagine that the way we notice, become aware of

our intuition trying to tell us something, varies

from person to person.

Maybe it's a whisper we suddenly hear clearly,

maybe it's like a door is slowly opening and 

we can hear music,

maybe it's a sinking feeling in the stomach,

maybe it's someone shouting: DON'T DO IT!

''I feel that there are two entities inside of me - me and

my intuition. If I go against my intuition, I get

screwed every time, but if I listen to it....

we get along quite nicely.''

(Adapted from a Kim Basinger quote)

about the image: ''Looking the ID in the eyes''

acrylic on large canvas

This post is about........well, read it and find out

Although I have never really put in to words, and

I'm not even sure that I can put in to words, what

happens when suddenly an artistic idea shows up and

demands attention..........yet, I am going to try...... later.

There have been times in my life when I have

experienced events that no matter how hard

I have tried to find logical and reasonable

explanations for those events, I've come up short.

Some things, I have concluded, belong in the

inexplicable category/box.

Ever since my son was born he has

had health issues. The number of times I

have had to rush him to the Emergency

department are far too many to remember

and far too upsetting. Sitting alone at all hours

of the night on a hard plastic chair in an eerily

quiet hospital, slowly sipping bitter cold coffee 

from a flimsy paper cup while waiting for the

doctor to bring good news....that, in my

view, can make even a hard man humble.

In this last year my son has undergone life-threatening

surgery on his neck and radiation on his skull-

base with resulting blinding head-aches and

excruciating pain down the left side

of his body for which there is no effective

pain killer. Well, none that will not turn

him into a drug addict. These days

I have much practice with hospitals.

My brother and father both spent two years on and off 

in hospitals before they died.

Having lost my brother(14) when I was

 very young(12), I decided early that

if there was any God or angels of some sort,

they weren't listening.

Although I did have a taste of the UnKnowable

for a spell, I couldn't in the end accept

that any entity accepting the level

of cruelty, poverty and despair that so

many innocent humans must endure

is worth my belief.

I'm thinking that perhaps some of you who

visit this site now and then, may just

like me know what it is like to have

to deal with loss, to constantly feel

that you are cradling a small lit candle.

This, while in the midst of a darkness 

so thick that it is threatening to extinguish

your tiny but steadfast little flame.

I don't know about you, but I rather

be a candle than curse the darkness.

I rather believe in hope and possibilities

than argue about angels, gods or other divinities.

I rather set aside some time for a friend in need

than spend hours watching people flaunting their greed.

I rather seek to learn and further my understanding

than to follow any fashion or any popular branding.

I rather try to be open minded, non-judgmental and really kind

than being scared of change, of the uncertain, or by

others to be defined.

(Citizen Z)

Sometimes when I sit down to write a post,

actually, most of the time, I don't have a topic.

I turn on the computer, turn on some music,

which often is mostly instrumental, and then stare 

at the blinking cursor on the screen and wait.

Sometimes I go through my art works and

look for inspiration. Sometimes I get inspired

to make a new work so I grab some paper

pen/brushes/anything else.

Sometimes I take an old piece and totally

rework it in Elements.

Let me tell you about todays image.

(It was called ''Human Angel'' but it

looked nothing like it does now.)

I decided to just improvise with all the different

tools available in Elements.

I didn't have anything in mind but just

started to try things all over the image.

Suddenly the program jammed and I couldn't

do anything. The little thingy that spins to

tell you that it's doing stuff just..... kept spinning.

I decided to made coffee.

Coffee in hand, I sat down at the computer

again and looked at the screen.

GREAT SCOTT!!!!! Holy Sh**!!

There it was.

All I had to do was add the eyes, the nose

and mouth.

My son is the skull expert so I

instantly showed it to him.

He liked it. Awesome! My first ever skull 

painting.

I wanted to put on some text so with

a bit of imagination I do believe it's possible to see

some lines that could perhaps be .... wings ?

Anyway, the original painting is a large

canvas painted with acrylics.

Edited in Elements although I have no

clue really what I did except for

''a bunch of stuff''.

I had an artistic idea.

''There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle

or the mirror that reflects it.''

(Edith Wharton)

Feeling invisible is tough but very common............

It started with my phone deciding to have an

attitude.

It would decide when and for how long my

conversations or texts should be.

It would decide when the camera should be

turned on or off.

It decided when an alarm should go off

and stir me into action.

It, .... was the boss of me.

I decided that its reign of terror should

cease. I, was going to put the bossy-boots

to sleep.

Armed with money enough to purchase a new mobile

(cell) phone I set off for the nearest shopping

center.

Having concluded that any sort of iPhone was 

well out of my price range, I decided to try my

luck in the Samsung shop.

-Hey, how can I help you? asked the friendly

fresh faced young woman in the shop.

She had a really nice vibe about her and

seemed very approachable which made me

feel a bit less stressed about buying a new phone.

-Well, the time has come for me to buy a new

phone because this one(I handed her my old

phone) has developed an attitude with me, I said

and smiled. 

-What does it do? she asked quizzically.

-It thinks it's the boss of me so now

I'm putting it to sleep, I declared.

After I had told her my price range she showed

me a few different options.

Including one which was on special and actually

left me with a spare $150 dollars!

-Sold, I said. I'll have that one. 

-Great, she answered. She then took my old phone

and placed it next to the new one.

-I can transfer all your data from your old

one to the new one but it will take a little

bit of time. That okay with you?

-Absolutely, I answered and made myself comfy

in one of the customer chairs.

Fifteen minutes later I walked away with my

new phone in hand and the old obstinate

old one in the bottom of my bag.

Deciding that I needed a new cover

I stopped at a shop selling millions!

(well, not really) of different covers.

For some unknown reason the seller

decided to sell a $30 cover to me for $20.

Huh! Nice! I still have $130 dollars left.

Feeling good that I had saved some money

I walked to the car and pulled the car key

out of my pocket.

Next minute what once was a car key was now

lots of little pieces on the ground. Hence,

........ I could not unlock my car.

Back into the shopping center.

This time straight to Mister Minit.

-How much!!? I asked.

A hundred dollars. Geez.

That's an expensive car key.

Well, it had to be done. I gave the Mister Minit

man what was left of my old key.

 He told me it would take

fifteen minutes.

I decided to use the time to get something

to eat.

A veggie kebab. Good. Healthy.

I walked back to the Mister Minit shop

to eat my food sitting down on a bench nearby.

Sitting on the bench was a young girl.

I asked if it was okay for me to sit down

next to her. She nodded yes.

Sometimes, not very often, something

inside of me can sense hidden or suppressed

feelings in people I don't even know.

(Believe me, when this happens it freaks

me out and I just want to get away.)

But, sitting there on the bench with this girl,

I just knew that she needed me to talk to her.

Show her some kindness, some caring and that I 

saw her.

On her knee she had a fabric bag covered with

drawn little cutesy figures(kawaii anime).

Softly I turned to her and asked her if she

was into Japanese anime.

She was. I told her that my son and I

both love Japanese art. Manga, anime and

movies of varying kinds.

I also told her that both me and my son were

artists and that regardless of both of us

being the victims of copious opinions

by well meaning non artists........

For us, art is not about the pursuit of fame 

and fortune.

Art is an outer expression of 

an inner experience.

-Where can I view some of your art? she asked.

I was showing her some of my art(this blog)

on my brand spanking new phone when she

suddenly started to cry.

-Art is so beautiful, even more so when

there is some sadness in it isn't it? she said.

-Sadness, in my view is something that can

 sometimes tenderize a tough heart, I answered

then continued.......

-I have often found that sadness can sharpen

our ability to truly experience our own

frailty as human beings and I try to

convey some of that in my paintings.

Suddenly her phone sprung to life

and she had a quick look at her phone.

What she did next really took me

by surprise.

-Can I hug you? My girlfriend just texted

me and says that we have to go but I would

like to hug you before I go if that's okay 

with you?

With those words she hugged me, tears

streaming down her face and then with

the words ''I will never forget you'' she

turned around and walked away.

I picked up my new car key from Mister Minit.

Ah, so that's why the key fell apart I thought

as I walked to the car.

I needed to sit on that bench.

I needed to assure a young girl who

was feeling sad and invisible that

there are some of us who actually

 do see and hear her.

In truth, ..... We all need to be seen and heard

sometimes.

about the images: Top: Photo edited in Photoshop

above: ''Teddy feels invisible'' ink on paper, edited in Elements

All too much? How can I help......

Why do we do it? do all of us do it or only some of us?

What am I talking about? I am talking about why some

of us seem to have an innate or in-built behaviour pattern

of wanting to ''fix'' or to solve or at least help (in some

way) people who are in distress. 

As a kid I was severely bullied and often beaten up.

Only once did another kid intervene and try to

stop the beating. Although I was pleasantly

surprised when it happened, the new-found 

friendship however, did not last very long.

At nine years of age, 

Life lesson number 1. 

Friends come in a manifold of diverse/different

varieties. Each category comes with its own

often un-spoken but still specific rules and

expectations.

As I remember it, having many friends, being popular,

being liked by your peers, meant everything.

Not to me, but as far as I could ascertain

to most of the kids at school.

So here's the strange thing with me;

although I was bullied every day

I never saw myself as a victim, instead,

I thought there was something wrong with

the kids who had to pick on others all the time.

Life lesson number 2.

Hurt people hurt others to make themselves

feel better.

When I started college I joined a choir and

changed my subjects from science to all

things humanitarian. I also decided that I was

going to audition for the Conservatorium

of music as soon as college finished.

I, was going to become a professional jazz 

musician, come hell or high water.

All through the college years I had one really good

friend who was a math fanatic so we both knew

that we would be following very different paths 

when college finished.

Life lesson number 3.

One true, really good friend, is enough when

the friendship is authentic and founded on

shared values and life principles.

As I stepped into the foyer on my first day

of finally studying what I really wanted to learn,

I knew. I was finally among MY people.

There was music everywhere. Behind every closed 

door seeped, no, oozed music of some sort or another.

Somehow there was an instant connection between us 

''students'' the minute we said hello to each other.

We were all there because we felt very committed

to and passionate about music. We were ready to

give our all in the pursuit of becoming fully

fledged professional musicians.

Life lesson number 3.

Artists are a different tribe of people. The language

we/they speak, we/they speak the clearest and truest

when we/they use our chosen artistic ''language''.

Although these days we have a little more 

understanding and patience with ''creative types'',

I am going to throw caution to the wind and

suggest that most of us ''neuro divergent''

/creative types, have been told by ''well meaning

but non-understanding'' friends and relatives:

You are too: sensitive, deep thinking, over analyzing,

serious, quiet, no sense of humor, insecure, 

intense, etc. etc. etc.

They will have ideas how to fix us.

''Lets fix it. This is what you got to do.''

Ex: Just relax! Don't be so uptight all the time.

Go mix with people. Start a conversation. Try to

open up a bit. And many more similar suggestions....

Life lesson number 4.

We all are outfitted with mirror neurons. 

These neurons fire/respond equally when

we perform an action or watch somebody

else doing it. Watching somebody cry

or yawn for instance, fires up our mirror 

neurons to follow suit. (Animals do the same)

It's called empathy.

Having almost got myself killed a few times

due to throwing myself headfirst into

 all manner of dangerous situations,

I seem to be an incurable ''fixer'', ''solver'' 

and in my view...helper. 

Having been told off a number of times by

my son for ''always trying to fix/solve things'', 

I now try to think before I act.

I can't stand seeing humans or animals being

hurt by cruel, callous and ruthless un-thinking 

careless people.

Life lesson number 5.

Instead of trying to ''fix or solve'' a person or a situation,

ASK first what you can do to help, 

then offer potential fixes and or solutions.

''No act of kindness, no matter how small,

is ever wasted.''

(Aesop?)

''Be the change you wish to see in the world.''

(Mahatma Gandhi)

about the image: Graphite on brown paper

When you look in the mirror who do you see?

Dry heaving into the toilet bowl he silently cursed himself.

Too much. Once again too much. He flushed, and then

came face to face with a man he no longer knew.

Staring at the face in the mirror he asked it: -Who the

hell are you and what have you done with the face

that used to stare at me?

He rinsed his face with cold water, grabbed his

 toothbrush and discovered that the minty taste

of the toothpaste made him feel a little less

nauseous. Good. He had to be at work in 45 minutes.

A consistent drumming on the windowsill told

him that it was raining. -Taxi, I think. 

Donning his Mack he closed the door behind 

him and ran down the stairs to the entrance.

The Taxi was already there. Fifteen minutes later he

was serving his first customer.

As the day went on, the shop became so busy that

he didn't even have the time to have some lunch,

little less contemplate how he was feeling.

By the time closing time came around, he felt

good enough to walk home.

The first thing he did when he came home

from his 2nd job, the one at the night club,

was to look in the mirror. He was curious to find out

whether the strange man he saw in the mirror

that morning was still there.

Yep. Still there, although not looking as rough.

-Who are you???? he asked the intransigent,

obstinate and voiceless mirror. 

No answer. Obviously. Mirrors don't speak.

Or........do they?

If the mirror could speak, what would it

 say to me? he asked the mirror.

Staring so intently at the mirror that the image

 started to blur, he suddenly heard a voice:

-Who am I? The better question is...... who are you?

What?? Rubbing his eyes hoping to see the

image more clearly didn't make any difference.

It was still blurry. Okay. This is madness but

lets play along.

-What do you mean? I am you.

Really? If I am you, what happened to that you?

The you who had dreams, hopes and a lot of love?

-Life happened. Life happens. In a life a person

experiences tragedies, comedies and everything

in between. Life, I have concluded, is suffering.

To be or not to be, is that not the question? he asked the mirror.

That is one question. There are many more.

For instance, why do you drink so much?

Is that why you have suddenly decided to

speak to me? To chastise me? I work

in a night club. Everyone drinks.

Possibly. Drinking alcohol to excess every night

however does affect your mental and physical health.

You know this. This is when the ''stranger'' shows

up in the mirror instead of me.

Those words hurt, he thought to himself.

Looking at the blurry image in the mirror

he thought back to a time when the I,

the you or.... me...? were one and the same.

I'm not happy. I'm not following my dreams.

I'm lousy at relationships. I always get my

heart broken. Meanwhile the years fly by.

You are right mirror, I need to find a way

to become the real me again.

Please, tell me how to do it.

Please help me find me in the mirror again.

After a long silence the mirror finally answered.

The core/real you is a highly sensitive person.

An empath. This means that you are sensitive to others 

needs, feelings and emotions. 

You notice things that others don't.

You are a good listener.

However, because of your sensitivity

you often feel that you don't belong

which may be influencing you to seek

''masks'' to hide behind. 

Such as alcohol, drugs and other

''masking'' behaviours and methods.

The more masks you use the more you will find

it hard to find again the authentic you in the mirror.

-Ouch. Why is my body hurting so much?

Moving his limbs he realizes that he is

laying on the floor beneath the mirror.

-I am so confused, he says to himself as he gets 

up on his feet. He looks at the mirror.

The mirror looks back at him.

The blurriness is gone.

-Wow, what a crazy dream that was.

Was it a dream? A talking mirror. 

Huh. I must be going crazy.

Noticing that it is still dark outside

 he realizes that it's still night.

Still fully clothed he creeps in to

his bed and instantly falls asleep.

Have a good sleep, whispers the mirror.

about the image: Citizen Kane, acrylic on large water colour paper

There's a big difference between Bad and Evil..............

 

What does an ''evil'' person look like?

Can such a strong judgement be made by

visuals only?

Considering that some of the worlds most

prolific serial killers and murderers in general

visually often are deemed as ''looking like just

 plain ordinary people'',

how is it that more often than not, once we're

told of their terrible crimes they somehow

now look ''evil''?

The definition of evil ''in them old days'', meant *bad and exceeding

proper boundaries. During the 1800th century however, morals

 was added to the concept of the word. This meant that extreme moral 

wickedness became part of the understanding and use of the word.

Evil, says those in the know, is a concept that existed long before

there were organized religions. 

From an evolutionary, historical and linguistic perspective,

what started out of necessity(survival) as ''bad'' and ''good'',

one may perhaps speculate has evolved into a kind

      of ''moral intuition''.                 *plus a bunch of other things

For years I have tried to understand if it is possible for

something/an act to be considered evil if there is no intention

or calculation behind it. 

If there is no intention or conscious act causing harm

to someone or something, I am wondering if that perhaps 

is not more along the lines of an unintentional outcome

rather than an evil and calculated outcome.

Accidents for instance. An outcome can be disastrous,

non-repairable, the loss of a life even......but if there's

 no intent behind it, does evil really come into it?

I'm scrambling for situations in which the word evil 

can be used without any undertones of moral judgement.

I even find it hard to view acts in nature or by nature 

as evil for instance, although some do.

According to those in the know, we are using the word

 ''evil'' more these days but stat wise speaking, 

acts that are often classified as evil such as

 murder and kidnapping, are not increasing.

It's just that thanks to all manners of Media,

Bad/evil news gets more attention than Good

News. Politically speaking, the more we

are persuaded that the ''others'' are evil,

the more polarized we become.

The above image is a large poster I painted

as part of an Exhibition called Cinefiend.

His name is Dr. Mabuse and though a mere

invention of Norbert Jacques, to me he

represents the personification of an evil person.

''He is a master of disguise and telepathic hypnosis.

He is known to employ body transference through the

use of demonic possession. Sometimes he uses

technologies to build a society of crime.

Mabuse hardly ever commits crimes himself,

instead he works through a network of agents

who enact his schemes thus remaining out

of reach of being apprehended.

Mabuse's agents range from career criminals

to blackmailed or hypnotized innocents who

are so totally manipulated that they don't

even know that they are being used.''

Although Mabuse first appeared in a book

in the 1920's in Germany, personally I can actually

think of a few people who could easily

fit into the criteria above.

*

I have come to think that calling someone ''evil''

instead of ''bad'' can have grave consequences.

I believe it dehumanizes a person, it shows a lack of

empathy and polarizes rather the brings closer

people of different views.

Calling someone ''bad'' on the other hand, for me is a

more adaptive and malleable word.

''He is evil'' sounds judgmental and fixed

in my view.  ''He is bad'' by contrast

sounds to me like ''he tends to make 

questionable choices.''

In other words, a temporary position

in need of an adjustment.

Bad can be changed. 

Evil is fixed.

''Bad is when you ignore the ones you love.

But evil is when you know 

exactly what the ones you love

want and need,

And knowing that,

 you find a way to make sure

that you'll never give it to them.''

(Citizen Z)

about image: Acrylic on large water colour paper

Title: Dr. Mabuse

Feeling unlucky? Take heart, it's just a random apex of possibilities........

Is there such a thing as luck?

Are some people just born lucky and 

some other of us just born unlucky?

Is ''luck'' something magic bestowed on some

very special people or is it something that can

be scientifically proven to be ''real''?

Personally I believe that luck is a term for

a phenomenon based on a cognitive mindset,

 an optimistic and positive perception/interpretation 

of an event/something.......xyz

 Lucky = The apex of random positive possibilities colliding

and interpreted as ''being lucky''.

Unlucky = The apex of random negative possibilities colliding

and interpreted as ''being unlucky''.

-How lucky you are to have been born with so

many creative talents, she said.

-Lucky? How do you mean? I responded.

-Well, nobody in my family has any artistic

talents and I can only draw stick figures, she retorted.

I have been told this so many times that

I have started to wonder what the motivation

may be behind the statement:

''How lucky you are to have been born with so

many creative talents''.

It may be intended as a compliment but 

the way I experience it, it

 doesn't feel like an acknowledgment of all the 

years of hard work, successes and failures and hours of

honing one's skill.

Nor does it feel as an acknowledgment of the sacrifices

made of one's waking time spent in the solitary pursuit

needed in order to become an expert, a master, a virtuoso.

A long time ago when by accident, or destiny? I

became a regular contributor to a small publication,

I wrote a piece on gifts/talents and how I believe

that we are all born with gifts of one kind or another,

 it's just that many of us don't tend to look for it.

If there is an activity that when you do it you

loose yourself, time flies and you feel energized

then that may be your gift.

(And it does not include doing harm to anybody

 or yourself. Or any critter at all.)

A gift is in my view something that begins as a ''seed''

but with perseverance and dedication to the nurture of it

 it grows, expands, develops, and the more we spend time

being/doing/with it, the more creative we become.

''Being creative is often misunderstood as a

stroke of luck or a rare talent, when in reality,

it is a deliberate, consistent and learned process.''

(don't know)

In my view, the one time that I

do believe it's all about luck, is

where we happen to be born.

Half of gifted students 

fly under the radar.

(ABC)

about the image: ''Darkman''  

Graphite on watercolor paper

Some editing in Elements.