sleeping in a beam of sunlight
good morning hans maya
i am looking at yoo now sleeping in a beam of sunlight. i want too let yoo know that garrick and mommy and skeleton will bee headed too los angeles soon for a bit. we are building a bee chapel in the sky on the rooftop of moran bondaroff gallery there. on this roof we will grow a garden. a secret garden. the whole building where the gallery is will also bee my home for the duration of the exhibition. during that time i wont set foot into the outside world. i wont spend any money, look at the news, check email, touch a cellphone or poop in a flush toilet. my food will bee only from the vegetable garden on the roof and donations of food from visitors too the gallery. snacks are pages from ayn rand’s anthem marinated in honey and baked at 450 farenheit to a bitter sweet crisp. my toilet for the next month and half will bee a compost toilet six feet up in the air that will drop poop from the sky. one day very soon eye hope we can all poop flowers in the sky. we will bee collecting rain water togather with used dish and bath water. during the full moon we will bee watering the garden with this water. weho earthship. power is from free beams of sunlight.
hans maya, the reason i am doing this is so i can tune myself with the vibration of the universe. yoo know this so simply and naturally my cat friend. i want too bee wilder like yoo. a wilder human.
this is why we built the bee chapel too meditate with the bees. too resonate in one vibration with the bees.
i want too tune myself with the bees and the garden and the gallery and all the people in the gallery and every atom in the whole building so that we are vibrating togather as one vibration. this vibration, my home at 937 north la cienega boulevard is the center of the universe.
baby hans maya yoo are a monk sitting silent in the morning waiting patiently for breakfast. yoo have taught this human patience. slow down. just bee. why the hell are we moving along as a civilization at this speed and consuming consuming consuming taking taking taking pooping pooping pooping without even thinking of giving back to mother that feeds us? why are we so much in love with power that we are flying burning blind into the anthropocene? why are we addicted too reading the news when we can get our stories by sitting down quietly while listening and talking too the animals. talk too squirrel, northern saw-whet owl, magical oak tree, proud norfolk island pine, hylephila pyleus, pieris rapae, white lined sphinx, cloud with golden light, raindrops, beams of sunlight and too yoo hans maya. yoo have taught us by living example that the greatest art is the art of living. yoo are a living krishnamurti, honeybee flame burning, a celestial spirit alive and vibrating with animal light so bright my crooked blind human eyes slowly awakens. namu dai bosa. namu dai bosa.
we thought yoo were coming to los angeles with us mr cuddles. in my mind i sea yoo sleeping under a beam of sunlight on the gallery floor. we are all laughing in the gallery. i sea yoo golden under the bee chapel amongst a bed of ray hartman mountain lilac, lavendar, african blue basil, sages, sunset coreopsis, sambuca, yarrow and calendula flowers. honey earth melts into the burning sky burn burn all 50 stars all the circle of our mind all of civilization.
in a few moments garrick and i will bee digging a hole in the earth under this giant oak tree. making yoo a home of earth and roots and stones and seeds. soon insects and bacteria will transform yoo just as it will transform me and all of us from the physical back into energy. i tink the world is crazy right now. the planets are all moving in a direct motion this very moment. the wolf moon chases. a black hole chirping, comet singing. perfect harmony in the celestials, turmoil on earth. the spirit and the body vibrate, dance. hans maya knows knot too worry because its all togatherness. this is where the magic is, where our home is. tank yoo for teaching us so many tings hans maya. tank yoo for teaching me where home is.
13th jan 2017