Aboriginal Wisdom.

I have added a new category to Ralphie’s Portal, which you can see in the title of this post. I am an aficionado of the wisdom of the American native tribes, who have my utter respect, but there is more wisdom to be found elsewhere. Wisdom that I for one have not had the pleasure of reading or hearing much about.

After reading Marlo Morgan’s book, Mutant Message Down Under, I am so overcome with admiration for these wonderful people, the Australian Aboriginals, that I take it upon myself to learn more about their spirituality, poetry and plight and whatever I learn I shall share with you, our esteemed readers.


Ralphie’s Spanner.

English: A straight line through two points

English: A straight line(hahah!) through two points (Photo credit: Wikipedia, pffft)

I shall propose a theory, which will have any and every mathematician or scientist worth his or her salt wearily shaking their heads, to their detriment, of course…:

I propose that straight lines are antithesis to nature and that what we perceive as such are parts of an enormously long curve, because nature can not abide straight lines. The seeming impossibility of this idea strikes me as being highly plausible! We can only have approximations of straightness (no sexual double entendre intended ;-)) The only straight line that could possibly exist is the one in your outdated imaginations.

However, I seem to contradict myself here(how delightful). Did I not state on a previous occasion that anything we can imagine is, if not true yet, then at least possible. Could there exist something more powerful than my imagination? Wether it be Mother Nature or God perhaps? What a droll and novel notion…

I leave it to the scientists to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that a straight line does exist in nature or anywhere else, except their imagination. Until then I leave you in the certainty that they’re nonsense(predominantly the straight lines and to a lesser degree the scientist’s imagination).


English: Scales (2) Climbing up out of the mis...

English: Scales (2) Climbing up out of the mist hanging over Buttermere reveals views unimaginable half an hour earlier. Looking towards Robinson with High Snockrigg in front. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In the heat of silence
mute poetry is borne,
wrought from raw emotion
transmuted into verse.

From the eye of the tempest
springs a colour river,
too bright for mortal eyes,
a canvas for the gods.

An abyss under the sea,
deeper than you or me,
houses spectral shadow beings,
that never see the light.

In the unlikeliest of places
otherworldly beauty shines,
defying unimaginable odds,
an enigma in and to itself.

Those Learned Bones.

From Gypsy Spirit Wind

From Gypsy Spirit Wind

Why does the heart understand
what the mind can not grasp?
Give me the formula for love!?
What’s the atomic weight of tenderness?

Is kindness a philosophy?
To me it’s all a mystery.
How then do I KNOW love intimately?
Why do I grasp it in my very bones?

I can relate to the wisdom of stones
and spy out the reasons for the seasons
and the intricacies of ebb and tides.
I get the abstractness of the spider’s web…

But I will never get the wickedness of some!

For My Future Belovéd…

English: Future Love

English: Future Love (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Whoever she is,

Wherever she may be,

I call on  thee!

May the stars up above

give you a shove.

Open your eyes,

see through the lies,

Come now, come hither,

no longer dither!

I´ll no longer wait.

Harken to fate!

Lift the veil´s lace,

show me your face!

I love thee, I love thee, I love thee!

By the power of three, invested in me,

Forever by your side I promise to be.!

So it is written, so mote it be!

In the meantime, I shall add my flame to the brightness of being.

The Magic of Painting.

Let me take you on a journey through a fantasy land, where anything is possible, where dreams do sometimes come through, where at times hearts are broken and at other times tears of joy are wept. The creation of a work of pure, unadulterated magic, a work of art, a painting.

When I am painting, I do not think in words and sentences, above all else I feel intensely and I go into a trance, where time has no meaning. The goal is to make what is on the canvas correspond with what I see in my mind’s eye. And ever to watch for the light, for it is everything: how it reflects, how it radiates, how it takes on its neighbours hue.

Making art is hardly ever a joy, it involves the pain of birth, but while you are in this process, you no longer feel blood running through your veins, but molten lava and the air inhibiting your lungs, slowly dissipates into the rest of your body and leaves you in a quite heady state, almost as if inebriated. You are always judging, whether it be distances, colours, angles or planes, contrasts of light and dark. You pray to all the gods you know, and then some, to please let it come out the way you long for, yearn for, would die for!

When I’m painting, I give of my life-force, which flows through my arm into my hand and through the brush into the paint, transforming the depicted image into a living, breathing being. My painting is in a very real sense one of my children!

The object of any work of art is to draw an emotion from the spectator. Whenever a painting is viewed, some of the emotional charge of the viewer is added to its life-force. It is in the interaction between  art and its audience that magic evolves, when a connection is made between the spirit of its creator and the psyches of the observers. Why is a picture better than a thousand words? Because it connects your soul to the soul of the painter!

Painting is more than a passion, it is your very reason for being, your own special way of communicating with the universe and with your brothers and sisters. You feel an urgency to share your vision, to let others experience the wonder and the beauty of it all, but you hardly ever can, for you are your own worst critic. But furtunately, once in a very long while, it all just flows the way it should and then you sink to your knees and bless the whole world and everyone in it, for letting you be alive that day and for being able to witness this moment of excruciating bliss.

I do hope that the flame does not die, for then all would be lost. Without my passion for creating, either on canvas or on paper(writing), I am but a withered husk or a pale shadow of what my potential bids me be, orders me be! Time away from my art, is time misspent, wasted and lost forever. Oh Mother of the Universe, grant me my wish to do what I was put on this planet to do!

I shall give you a few examples:

1. Can you not feel Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec’s yearning and passion? 

from theliminalburrow.blogspot.com

2. Can you not feel Kaethe Kolwitz’s despair over the loss of her beloved son in World War I?

from spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk

 3. Is El Greco’s devotion not palpable?

from fineartprintsondemand.com

4. Is Piet Mondriaen’s disconnection from the social world not obvious? 

from artchive.com

It Could Work…!?

Most people, myself included at times, think that everyone else is telepathic and should read or sniff or smell what they(or I) want. To tell the truth, most people suck at this! Therefore some individual has come up with an entirely novel idea, which might work, if everybody joined in. Which will never happen, of course. But here it is anyway:

from DaILy DoSe Of InSaNiTy

Hmmmm… well here goes nothing: I LOVE THE LOT OF YOU!

Pondering that Love thing…

Pondering the meaning of life, for sure.

Pondering the meaning of life - Wikipedia

Earlier on this year I came to the terrible realisation that what I had always thought of as love, had in fact been selfishness on my part! Imagine that, it took me almost half a century to figure that out… How thick can you get?

You must know those saying like:

My love for you is so deep that… 

What I feel for you is so indescribable and blablablah…

Fair enough, what you are feeling is a wonderful experience, but it misses the point! The point is that you have to take your love out of yourself and bring it to its recipient. To my knowledge there does not yet exist a method for transferring this feeling directly to your lover. I wish there was… oh boy!

But until the happy moment when that process shall be discovered, I can only start by thinking how my being there affects the person that I love. By making my love selfless, I can strive to make a better world for this significant other, instead of merely exulting in my own sentiment.

This feeling of love can for me take epic proportions, but I now have to learn how to disregard it  and act in such a way as to make my partner happy. I wrote an email to this effect to a lady that I love and she answered me: “Yeah,,, and?” I recognise that for most women this is self-evident and there are probably many men, who have figured this out long ago, not being as thick as I am…

But when I think about thickness, I think that there may be just one or two men, who might benefit from my words, hence this little article, which I hereby share with you! 

Affection by Lindell Vecchio

Affection by Lindell Vecchio.

I did not get this the first time I read it, but then I did not have my brain switched on. After having read it a second time, I must admit that I find this piece of poetry intriguing, endearing and alas very true.

Lion Affection by Google/imgres

Poetry Duel!

Wake UP, woman!!

A challenge…

You!! Yes you.

The one with the sad eyes.

Why are you sad?

I´m here!

I´m waiting for you.

I´m yours!

I´ve been waiting for you for a long time now.

Why don´t you wake up?

So, you´ve been hurt…

So what! Hasn´t everybody?

But.. do you want to live?

Or do you want to vegetate?


I´m still here.

Stand up for love!

You´re worth it.

You deserve it!

Never give up hope, ever.

Come, let me carress your cheek.

Let me bury my face in your hair.

Let me hold you.

Let me put a twinkle in your eyes.

Let me lift you up and make you fly again.

Who are you?

What´s your name?

It doesn´t matter.

I´ll know you when I see you.

One look in your eyes will suffice.

God intended us to be together.

Even if you´re on another continent,

that can´t and won’t keep us apart.

We´ll build a bridge.

NO, no need.

God put us up a rainbow.

All you have to do is take that first step…

I´m already waiting in the middle.

Now, MOVE!!

Take my hand and lead me into the light.

Be my light.

You are!

Because you´re you.

You deserve it.


Do my pleas fall on deaf ears?

Has your heart turned to stone?

Break the shackles, tear down the walls

and float towards me on a sea of love…

What are you waiting for?

Are you being obtuse?

Do you like being alone?

I know you´re strong.

You can handle it.

But it´s so much nicer to share.

Don´t you think?

I want you, I need you!


Even though I can,

I don´t like to face this cruel world alone.

Be my saviour, my rock, my haven.

For the love of God, come!

Are you strong enough to take my love every day?

I think you can.

I dare you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My lady, over to you:……

Meet Yohdi!

Using infrared images from NASA's Spitzer Spac...


Yohdi looked through slatted eyes at the mighty oak, standing forlorn and alone on top of the hill. He marvelled at the bright swirling kaleidoscope of its aura. Yes, he thought, this one would definitely do! He traipsed up the hill on his leather sandals and took of his shirt. After kicking off his footwear, he sat cross-legged, with his back against the enormous trunk, between two of its roots. He centered himself in eternal love and let his being expand, initially riding on the columns of energy that spiralled up off the tree, into the air. From his vantage point, somewhere in the stratosphere, he linked up with green patch after green patch, slowly enveloping the Earth. Glowing dots began to appear here and there, kindred souls seeking contact. He embraced them and together they searched for more. One after the other they found, down valleys and over high mountain tops. Deep under the sea, the higher mammals heard the call and joyfully they joined in the dance and in the song. All as one now, they started to pulse like a gigantic lit up Christmas tree.

Time to initiate the new generation, thought Yohdi, advising his brethren and sisters of their sacred task. Their mantle of love, that was spread over the entire surface of the planet, sought out the souls that were ripe for the next stage of their journey. Tenderly they drew the unexperienced into their midst. Their message to them was simple: observe, feel the love and remember! For the next calling, you will be able to arise on your own. The newcomers were amazed and humble in their gratitude for witnessing the coming of age of at least a portion of humankind. More will follow, Yohdi thought-transferred, ever more. When you go back, seek out your spirit siblings and nurture those that are apt and willing. Spread the word of love and teach by example. The New Age has begun!

Everyone descended again to live their lives in peace. Yohdi thanked the mighty oak, put on his sandals and his shirt and went his merry way, whistling a lively tune. Look out for him, for he´s ever looking for new recruits, his sign: the colours of the rainbow.