An Entirely Different Sort

An entirely different sort: 

this is capacity of an entirely different sort, not defined by any borders, seamless between objects and the emptiness of its hold, and allowing by its nature. In its truest sense, pure, it's simply our existence, what we are without the pretense of being merely physical, believing ourselves entirely of form - and it's our trade of appearance, our solidness, for spaciousness and back again, constant to the point of being indistinguishable. 

to say capacity is to be inclusive to all it seems to hold as well, that this isn't an emptiness separate from its fulfillment, but one thing really, formless, until lending itself to the appearance of the world, an allowing void of pure potentiality, creative, no more so, creativity itself. This is our description, one too of an entirely different sort, and true in every sense of being real. 

we are the creativity void, capacity, and the beauty of display.

to see this, is to join ourselves in reality, we become playful through the mystery of the void, how things appear, seamlessly so, existing at once as emptiness and form without dispute of prominence, simply being, being, being, even when absent from the view. Nothing is seen as ever being really lost, only returned to the source of its appearance, remaining true by nature, and even now being rearranged, re-imagined in the light of new form, another appearance from and as the void. It's our secret of creativity, trusting ourselves as the source of every beautiful line ever drawn or brushed against canvas, the wisdom of every written or spoken word, and more still, as the universe itself and all its varied display of mystery, grace, and wonder. 

we are true artist, all.

 capacity of an entirely different sort.

~

Peace, Eric