We live in a World

We live in a world

Of fleeting connections

Where everyone

Struggles

Simply to be

Where everyone is overwhelmed

With existence

Of how we

Made it to be

How does that serve us?

How does this, what we created, nurture us?

How do we strive from here?

Where are all stranded

In an isolated abyss neither here nor near ?

Who truly still feels connected?

Even in the midst of so called family?

Who observes the disconnect

The distance of

All

Especially through technology

While more and more also

Do awake

To a more conscious landscape

And yet the dissonance disrupts

Between those who do

And those who care not yet to see

(To feel

To hear

To be honest and live from the heart not the mind)

Honoring the unique spirit given

To each individual kind

How long?

How long?

How long until we as godly creatures

Truly choose to be

God particles

Creating a whole

If you just choose to be part

Rather then opposed

To those of us which hold

Mother Nature

The universe

In our embrace

And listen to the greater spirit

Of ourselves

And trust our souls to shape a better landscape

How long?

How long will you listen to your ego?

Your mind?

How long? How long ?

I’m too there will be no other kind?

Your battle is within you.

It is forlorn

It is

It is you

Surrender to the darkness

Break through it

And truly become

The truth

That is you

Reconnect to the essence of all being

Fuse with the path we are all seeking

Whether willing or unwillingly

The raising of our conciousness

Is our destiny

The being of self

As the one with all

Hearing one’s own but all of natures call

Acting truly from the heightened self

In the seat of centerdness

In accordance

In resonance

In harmony

With existence

Itself

How long ?

How long will you deny natures calll?

How long will you deny us all?

How long will you pretend for us and nature not to exist ?

How long until you wake up and seize to resist?

How long?

How long?

How long, until you will hear your own spirit song?

How long?

How long?

Don’t let us wait…

We don’t have too long.

Don’t let us wait

Answer our song

Answer earths call

To become one

With all

Answer universes call

To become one

With all

We live in a World-Carolin Rechberg

To Paint

To paint

is like a ritual for me.

It is the laying bare of myself.

Standing in or opposed to a surface, a space, a ground, on which to communicate and extend my being onto.

My gesture, my mark, my emotion, my thought.

It is the soft caress or sometimes over eager

gushing of emotions, tearing out from inside of myself.

In the discourse of presence, happening right in-front of myself.

The discourse of me represented through colours, form structure, composition, and what unfolds for me to see.

Painting, like the moment of life.

Surrenderance to the structure, the surface, sometimes already having marks on it, coming in, to treasure what inspires me, what I still want to discover to find or what I want people to find inspiration in.

But in the end it is not about the other, it is just about you, about me, and that moment of being free.

Of allowing nothing else, but mixing and choosing colours, tracing form and textures intuitionally.

Nothing purer, this being, my kind of meditation.

Like life itself, every painting a surprise, showing the treasures you could have not known before they reveal themselves before your eyes.

That is even if abstract it is a presentation of more of the conceptual rather then realistic, but signifying a philosophy of being, a philosophy of approach to life.

A philosophy of engagement and embracing of the senses.

The other becoming me, and me becoming it.

With the caress of my whole body, even cuddling, dancing, and stretching, sitting, rolling, walking, or tracing on it.

The energy, candle to electric light, highlights and shadows,

the gestures of paint and without paint,

my eyes, my nose, the smell, the touch, the feel, the sound, of movement

of rhythm, of pattern of decision shaping the expressed landscape of my inside.

Free.

Landscapes which only exist ones, in the painting of me.

Don't weep for what isn't but for what is yours to keep

I can't help but feel sad

For a home a seed

A place I had but lost instead

Nostalgia before even having Yet arrived

While at the same time in the knowledge

That right now a different landscape should reveal and prosper infront

Of my eyes

To be able to excavate space for my soul

If this life here is meant to again be embraced and not withhold

The valleys will open and caress me in their folds

Give me the soil

To grow permanently

But right now travelling

Transient to collect the nutrients for the future I want to shape for me

Needing to detach

To give new room to breathe

Surrender

Allow to be

Don't weep for what isn't but for what is yours to keep

----

So many people here to see

So many and yet in this short amount of time

Only a few time to see

With landscapes which always

Forever inspire me