

Every medium has its own tale to tell; every proverbial brush has stories embedded in its bristles. If we can just listen and follow its lead, images will emerge
Divinatory Art: Conduitional Love and the Channels of Creation are central to the process of receiving future creations and projecting them into the present.
Divination is the act of summoning omens through attention and intention in order to determine the will behind the mind's design, rather than passively waiting for divine signs to appear. It is like a trick of the psyche, played in order for it to reveal itself to itself.

"my higher self hired my lower self to do its dirty work"
I use the term "divinatory art" rather than "visionary art" to describe my work. The latter, in my humble o'pineal, has been co-opted by a re-presentational aesthetic--wherein the vision that has been "had" is translated into symbols, intellectually encoded and humanized as it were. "Divinatory" is a term better suited for my process, in that there is no symbolic preset through which the transmission is filtered; symbols are ambiguous and self-arising. While I paint, the texture of the surface I am working on opens up like a crystal ball; imagery presents itself in the impulsive priming. I intuitively trace these forms into being.
"Divination" implies a technique that summons signs and omens, rather than passively awaiting their arrival. It does so to determine "the divine will", which is to simply imply that by opening myself to a universal, creative impulse, and linking it up to the unconscious, and trusting where the channel will lead me, I am able to step aside and witness the work come into being, as if it were coming through me. As if it were always stored inside the body, waiting to be printed out.
When we speak of "channeling" something we use riverine metaphors--we become like a channel that siphons water from the ocean, which is the absolute body of water. For the human vessel, the channel leads to our larger body, outside of time and space, a collective unconscious or repository of archetypes and shared dream motifs--the divine imagination or our imagination of the divine.
The artist widwives and translates these processes to the best of their ability.
"Let they who are without in-sight, look out!"
Pareidolia

excerpt from an upcoming article called "Pareidolia & the abyssmaleable nature of reality"

Stainspotting: Some years ago, seeking relief from my intricate, time-consuming studio paintings, I sparked the pareidolia-based project "Stainspotting”, a precursor to "Divined Designs", which consisted of street-art in the most literal sense of the word. It exemplified the principles of imperfection and impermanence, set by the wabi-sabi tradition, and offered a simplified glimpse into my divinatory creative process. It treated the surface of the material world as an oracle, rather than an obstacle.
Interfacing between void and imagination, the project utilized the random chaos of literal street stains, wherein ordered thought-forms may be plotted and conjured to the surface, outlined with chalk.
The whimsical results are like cave art on concrete.
In order to see what is inside one's mind, the mind has to be projected outwards. This, in fact, is occurring all the time, automatically and mostly unnoticed.
Pareidolic phenomena offer an opportunity to use the material realm as a springboard into the MetaReal world. Practices like “stainspotting” make us aware of the fact that “the world” consists of empirical data that has been taken in (upside-down, inverted and backwards) processed through our experience, and automatically/instantly projected back outwards as if the projection map were the “real” thing. We basically “objectify” reality, as “out there” as that may sound.
So when you start paying attention to how, say, your mind automatically treats a sidewalk stain like a Rorschach and see a face peek up you, you may become aware of this phenomenon, of how subjective reality really is. And the imaginings that auto-arise inform us of the void denizens that occupy the unconscious.
where the sidewalk ends, the other side begins....
