Personal sacred places, spaces, and things

I have always kept items and things that bring me any form of joy, peace, strength, hope, reflection or memories. I think maybe in a way we all do this, kinda like a little kid putting all his favorite stickers on his bed headboard; looking at all of them together brings on a certain emotional happiness. Lately in my life this has become a stronger obsession for me, it's like i'm bonding more with certain specific items and images and spaces. Colors and patterns now have personalities and emotions to them I've never felt before, things that are colorful and sparkle grab my attention, as if I am turning into a crow or something? Random environmental spaces allure me with their unique lighting and feeling. I'm finding myself highly grateful to little things like my pocket knife for it's daily useful purpose.
Why? I don't know. Did drinking for years dull my emotions and feelings? Probably... or is the collective consciousness transitioning into 5D as they are telling us? Probably as well. Who knows, I'm just getting weirder, and that's ok, it feels good and I don't give a shit. Currently, I am turning my bedroom slowly into my personal sacred space filled with things, images, colors, and moods that I resonate highly with. A personal museum to my inner peace, stickers on the headboard included.

Find your inner peace...

Easter 2024 - Peace

May this Easter Day bring you much peace, joy, & love!

Dreams are fucked up

I don't normally take naps, I don't like too. But just recently I started working a bit of some more physical work to offset all the time I spend behind the computer; a bit of Yin & Yang for the mind and body is my thinking. I'm way outta shape and I come home beat & dead tired. Today I got home and couldn't keep my eyes open, then crashed for about 2 hrs or so. Lately I have had the most fucked up dreams, and today was one of them. So intense and detailed you cannot tell if it's reality or not. I haven't had any alcohol in over 4 months so dreams are hitting hard core compared to basically passing out then just waking up oblivious to my sleep. I was so emotionally hit by this dream that I immediately wrote/sketched down all the details I could remember before I would forget (above, forgive my shitty spelling). I'm not gonna get into this dream itself, there was no ending build up or climatic punch. It was more of the intense detail and extreme emotions I felt during the dream; it fucks you up in the sense of what is real life or "reality". Of course, this is a common and timeless philosophical question, right? But one that is asked strongest right after the experience. I'm into all the spiritual, esoteric, ancient knowledge, hermetic principles, religious cultures and so on, a student always studying and reading everything I can wrap my head around. And, if we are not our body and are basically energy, all part of the collective conscience, a fragment of the all, or God; then what we dream is as "real" as when we are awake. When asleep, are we at certain points able to produce certain chemicals or emotions allowing us to experience or visit different realities or dimensions of our existence? Getting guidence to change or alter a life event? Or viewing our life as living on a different choice of the universe? Is what we call our waking life in the so called "here", just a dream to us somewhere else? Whatever the case, I think our dreams are just as real to our purpose of existence as our "awake" thinking and emotions. This is why we feel so emotionally confused when we wake up and try to make sense of them.

Art(ing) again

Drinking, rehab, hospitals. These things don't leave me much time or mindset to be creative or do what I want to do. I love to sketch, draw, paint, and make art of some kind. I've been outta my creative world for a while now, but the last few weeks I have jumped back into my creativity with a plague of passion. Soul on fire! Been taking a bunch of sketches and digital art I did while not drinking heavy and updating my artsy social media sites, which I never put the effort or passion into that I should have. Making myself really push and promote my work on a daily basis, as well as creating and being creative as often as possible.

I even opened a Redbubble shop where I can put my art and designs on t-shirts and other cool products and sell them. Been wanting to do this for a while and I finally have a few designs up and running. If you want to check out my shop you can view it here.

I'm not gonna win any awards for blog post titles but, I wanted to use the word "Arting". Wasn't sure if that was a word, doesn't matter I would have used it anyway, but I found a definition that said - verb /ɑː(r)ting/ 1. 'the action or skill of using art to become more powerful'

Wow, That's exactly what I'm trying to do.

Summer 23'

I know Christmas is around the corner, but I already miss summer. Late summer & early fall in Michigan is the absolute shit. Warm, sunny, dry; flowers and plants still in bloom, but the leaves are turning colors and starting to fall. These are some photos I took one day late last August while walking through a local park. I felt very at peace that day, contemplative, ok with everything & myself. While taking my time, just randomly walking some small bridges in the park & over an adjacent pond, I remember thinking how content I felt and wished I felt this way all the time. (I think this is subconsciously my goal- to make more days in my life as conscience and alive as this day was.) Plus, the only thing I was drinking at the time was a vanilla malt I bought at a nearby Dairy Queen along the way.    

Another powerful reason.

Mid-September was my last drinking binder. I remember lying on the floor, just wearing shorts. Sweaty, dirty, smelly. I cocooned & drank for what seemed like a month; hadn't eaten for over a week, and thought I was dying. Part of me wanted to die, how could I let myself get to this state? I would talk to God, and myself, about all the reasons that I couldn't die. And thanking God for all the times He has already saved me and all that He has given me. But the biggest reason I couldn't die was my daughter, my first born; was going to have her first child, a little girl. That would make me a grandpa for the first time. I kept telling myself, "I can't go out, I have to be here for her, I have to be part of her life!" I kept clutching my Granddaughter's ultrasound photo, telling her that I will get back to my state of mind and I will be there for her. But, at that point, I needed a miracle.

A few days later there was a knock at my door, it was my Mom and my two brothers. They knew something was wrong and came to take me to the hospital, a miracle. I didn't think I was gonna last in that state much longer.

God was with me, again! God did not give up on me!

After the hospital, and then rehab, I was better and back home. And lucky enough to be back in time to be at the hospital when my Daughter gave birth to my Granddaughter. No words can describe the feelings I felt when I first saw her and touched her; it's like being in another dimension. She radiated so much light and love and new life, she is part of me. And I am coming back from the dead.

"Thank you for all you have given me, thank you for the gift of my little Peanut."    

Ghosts

In 2 more days it will be 2 months since my last drink. Days are much kinder to me then the nights. I feel like I'm doing pretty good but the evenings into the nights are when my ghosts come around and start to flirt with my mind. I start to taste that ice cold beer, the beer that has been my lover for years. Now she's gone.

Well, hello third Mountain Dew and ice cream pint... What? You can't sleep?

All we have is now.

I am always trying to live in the moment... right here, right now. Very hard. 

Thoughts

We have around 60,000 thoughts a day. But the ones that make you truly think, are the only ones that matter.

...I Think.