Layers

Today, it ended up being about that…

book-layers

paper-layers

room-8

It’s such an illusion, that when all those layers of colour, light, substance, thickness, texture, time, space…are all lifted off, that somehow there is a solution to the problem underneath it all.
What happens when after the “last” layer is lifted, and what is left is…

…nothing?

What do we do then?

Is it the space between a breath?  Or the place where the balloon used to be after you popped it…or the empty bowl?

(thank you, Jay)

iris

Perhaps it’s the margin where we’re not quite sure where the water droplet ends and the air begins.

Tibetan Singing Bowl

Be well, and at peace,

Phil

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Explore posts in the same categories: Buddhism, creative stuff, Life, Meditation, Photography, spirituality

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