3D perspective is seriously deranged. (Kan vi bli höga?)

July 22, 2021

My love is unconditional. The liquid crystalline substance that my DNA is comprised of, transmits acoustic waves and maps the blueprint for an abundant reality. I feel rich like Wall Street. But I am a hologram to most, a replicant being sentenced to death. A 1982 Harrison Ford is out to get my ass, but in the form of spiteful DM’s. Through unpleasant thought-forms of Watchful & Hateful Jealousy. I can’t be killed. I can’t visualize my guardian angel, but they very well could resemble a young Harrison Ford. And he’s got my back as well.

DNA operates akin to the mind and brain, where waves and aspects of information form mental imagery which becomes virtual reality, permanently imprinted unto a collective unconscious database. We only see in everything and everyone else, what’s of the same frequency as we.

“ ᗯᕼEᑎ YOᑌ ᒪOOK ᗩT ᗰE ᗩᑎᗪ ᕼᗩTE Oᑎ ᗰE, I'ᗰ ᗩ ᗰIᖇᖇOᖇ,

Iᖴ YOᑌ ᒪOOK ᗩT ᗰE ᗩᑎᗪ ᗪOᑎ'T ᒪIKE ᗰE, ᗯᕼᗩT ᗪOEᔕ TᕼᗩT ᔕᗩY ᗷOᑌT YOᑌ? ”

A lot of people need to enter a Theta-Alpha state for a prolonged period of time.

Or attend psychotherapy to dissolve their karma.

Or take up an art practice. Or touch grass. Or listen to Wagner.

I have been painting and thinking about growing backwards. If I am unsure of how I feel, I close my eyes and focus on what colour starts to appear.

*Quality of thought determines colour.

The possibilities of spiritual art liberates possibility from prevailing constraints of external mimesis. Hilma af Klint knew what was up. Painting gargantuan, ancient mandalas with egg yolks and representing microcosms of the universe in her hidden villa in Munsö. She was unearthly as f*ck. Respect. I want to live in an objective, intellectually comprehensible spiritworld too. Vibrating high, clear and radiant.

G̳r̳o̳c̳e̳r̳y̳ ̳S̳h̳o̳p̳p̳i̳n̳g̳ ̳L̳i̳s̳t̳:̳ 𝘗𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘴, 𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘴, 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴, 𝘥𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴, 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦-𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹'𝘴.

P.S. The Los Angeles County Museum of Art is Hell

P.S.S. The Guggenheim Museum is Purgatory.

There is no such thing as coincidence. Do not fear chaos, everything happens for the highest good. Fear curators and assassins. Feel the FREQUENCY SHIFT. Be sensitive, be intrepid, be a psychonaut.

Primordial Chaos No.7

With Hilma Af Klint’s, “Primordial Chaos No.7, 1906-07” {1906} we see an investigation of origin and the primordial essence of the universe in all its manifestations, in the form of messages on frequencies and data that is visualized through Hilma’s contrived visual language. Some say it is a moth, some say it is a kite. Historians have paged her diaries for decades and still don’t understand her. Duh.

Cluelessness collapses my language {metaphor and riddle} and entire being. It took me years to realize anyone who labeled themself as “aloof” was actually anti-beauty and dull as dishwater.

vortices, auras, etheric matter, astral states and projections, energy forms

The possibilities of spiritual art liberates from prevailing constraints of external mimesis. When you look in a mirror long enough instead of your iPhone front-camera, you start to realize alternative modes of representation. Non-objective , pure, ABSTRACT. Pores, lines, a double-bodied aura.

I’ve been trying to induce a psychospiritual crisis so I can paint something good. Trying to materialize the grey matter vibrating in my brain into something iconographic. Trying to normalize gnostic adventurism amongst my friend group. Trying to make headlines, bemuse my foes, etc.

There is a modern day Edelweiisförbundet and I know it. And I will find it. I am feeling like Hilma Af Klint, reincarnated. Haunted perspectives, misunderstood. She was such a water sign. But only if my mind doesn’t deteriorate first. What if I wake up to not know who I am? Get dealt a progressive neurological disorder that causes my brain to atrophy?

I have nightmares about Alzheimers. It is a different realm of consciousness. Tuned into another life and another soul. A dual, evolving consciousness, two sides of the proverbial coin. But I don’t want to astral project to another realm, I haven’t quite yet figured out this one.

My Anti-Alzheimer’s Protocol: exercise 1-2x a day, fast to foster natural neuron growth, sudoku puzzles and crosswords on the metro, ample amounts of pinot noir polyphenols for neuroprotection, make note of the colours that appear in my mind and react accordingly, paint big.

I am full of suppressed thoughts and regressed memories. I know my brain is slowly deteriorating to a state of tangled nothingness. But it is beautiful.

I am a silk bug trapped in a spiderweb.

I am a moth and a kite.