Pablo
Transformation. A new beginning.
A castle by the beach, a collection of art and music, a white canvas to the future.
In wisdom
the path forward is always going to the Source, to get grounded, to get centered.
When we begin a creative project, it is the source that we tune in to, where there is vast energy available to us,
not by thinking and planning, but by getting grounded, centered, and silent enough to be in contact with the Source.
To honor who I am, I first must find my voice, then I can talk about my personal experience so others can recognize their own humanity in my story.
This is what Pablo did.
He found his voice, one that was only his, then he shared it with you, with me, with him, with her, so we could recognize our own.
Since his departure, he has been in my dreams, in his dreams, in her dreams, in the elevator, in the stage, in the kitchen, in the studio, in the grass, in the sea,
in the portal of his own making. Symbols of his existence showing up everywhere, reminding everyone and each of us of our own heart, our own vulnerability, our own tendencies to sabotage what we hold dear when we fear we are not enough, we are not that good, we are not that talented. The eternal existentialism of the artist.
If you know me, you know that I write about death also, like I write about you and this community. La Flaca does not escape the touch of my thoughts in writing. In fact, I love death when I write, because it is raw, it is clear, it is open, and it is trustworthy. The mystery of life does not get better than death. When everyone forgets and remembers, all at the same time, the fine thread that unites our consciousness, the deep end where we all encounter our most profound truth. We are transient.
As for Pablo, I like to imagine that as he goes through his bardos, and finds peace with the bird that flew by his command, he has blissed every corner, every paint, every flower, every moon, every song played by those who followed his dream, by reminding us that we are the fountain, it is us who create the world. Life is our art. Live. Paint your paint. Sing your song. Write your words. Dance your dance. Find your voice. Be your Self.
To you, I say, perhaps through the veils of dimensions, visible only as parallel universes are, with the heart, with the mind’s eye, this castle has a king. Long live the king!
