Dear Friend of my Heart,
We were so deeply immersed in a callous darkness, drawing feeble lines of colors we could barely discern… holding on to things we had fashioned out of that which never was. We thought of ourselves, we thought of the world. We found names for ourselves in the names for others. As we called out those names again and again and etched them on stone, they become more and more real… well, before the names there was no real. There was a nameless darkness, soothing and smooth. The touch lasted only as long as it was a touch, leaving behind nothing but a slippery residue and tingling scars… the only traces.
Words appeared… speaking to words, speaking of words, leading to words, forming pretend relationships later to be named: causal. We spoke thus out of habit… we educated each other to speak thus… we traced lines where there were none. Abstractions that became more and more line like, losing all substance… and losing the capacity to touch. We lied. Then we lied again… and we lied again and again… it became easier for words to call upon words without the weight of anything sacred, like the now mythical: truth. Virtual. Virtual became our truth, our home, our work, our pleasure, our dream. The rest is darkness… not the soothing kind.
The subtle emotional movements in our bodies remained unobserved. We lost the continuum of mind and body and we put them away from each other in individualistic cages. When someone madly proclaimed: “I am you and you are me”, we agreed, because it sounded like a really good thing to say. Were we listening? Did these words mean anything?
What is this loss? Why does it make me cry?
Although the afternoon wasn’t without touch. I looked at the ants for a long time. Walking busily on the leaves. It is really something… a very meaningful experience, when I actually watch the world and lose myself in the seeing. These pictures have almost nothing to do with this experience. They are something else altogether… maybe an invitation for you to go out and look at the incredible beauty and intricacy of it all on your own…






Do you feel sometimes that you have lost the touch? Do you feel that you are suspended in a callous darkness and the neon lights are no longer useful or meaningful?
Let’s light the fire.
Eager to hear from you.
Much love,
Prashant Nawani

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