Avalokitesvara. Mogao, Cave 3, circa 1357.
Image from reproductions found at the Zhejiang Museum exhibits, Hangzhou, China
I’ve been observing the deconstruction of many inner assumptions as well as outer ones.
It’s one thing when my work is constructed on hypothesis; another when inner realities assert themselves. Despite all our efforts to avoid it, a man need look no further than his own sins for the truth.
I see that so much of my life is accidentally dependent on the outer. Even the firm guidance of an inner and Divine Grace cannot absolutely dispel such charachter; and attachment is a very stubborn thing. I lurch from event to event trying to see more clearly, but usually not able to; I see how all my life lacks intelligence, that is, a Heavenly intelligence, which is where intelligence ought to come from. Instead the intelligence of life is my own intelligence; and it lacks a right energy needed to create real meaning.
It’s a place without any words. But it feeds me nonetheless.