Living on a disability pension limited my activities to the sitting at the window. The handshakes became a dream. So my experience had the nothing to report, but the words did not stop flowing. It was otherwise. The question „How that was possible?“ arose naturally.
Can the hero in the name only say anything worthy pondering deeper?
I soak my paintbrush into the colors and tried to view the world out of my window. While gazing at a tree on a forecourt, I suddenly have sensed it was something much more than just wood. I became aware of the symbols all around us became familiar to earlier foreign language of the metaphors that introduced me to my inner world where the Spirit dwelt. The same Spirit rests in all of us, and we hurt her by naming next to us as the unknown passerby.
The pictures I had made look like the stairs now. (I am reprinting them with you in mind) and hope my artworks will help you to run up my „stairs“ to the world where the gratitude rules and transforms hard questions to the relax.