Being happy

Originally, I wrote a post called “Out of Eden”, wandering if everything was great and joyful in paradise, while outside it was only sweat, blood and thistle. But then, even my drawing looked too depressing. So, I slightly changed the angle.

During last days I’ve met several people who couldn’t find their joy. It was lost and they couldn’t remember anything what would make them happy. Some of them even blamed me I wasn’t able to understand because I have so many interests – sources of happiness. At that moment, it seemed that joy was a crime. As if the existence of joy meant the absence of problems.

It didn’t make sense to explain that I feel drowned in troubles sometimes. But I insist on my right to joy anyway. I cultivate my small sources of joy everyday, because they help me to overcome mistakes and suffering that are part of everybody’s life.

Finally, I realized that medicine is not the number of interests and activities, although they can help. The most important thing is to start reacting spontaneously, freeing joy from the fortress of control and social conventions.

And the truth is, I’ve always been a little rebel in this field. I laughed at places where it didn’t fit. Sometimes it was more cramping than real joy, but smiling has been part of my life philosophy for many years. And sometimes it’s really difficult to find a smile, but it doesn’t mean I’m not trying to do it.

So, today I announce a revolt against sadness and I’m sending the picture of a crazy joy to all who want to smile at least a little.

With joy and love, Ivana

Advertisements

From Hate to Love

As I have already mentioned, drawing is for me a matter of emotions, something between prayer and therapy. The picture above is 5 years old, but its story is still alive and here it is.

Once upon a time I woke up with a strong feeling of hate. There was no reason, I barely opened my eyes from sleep, but the emotion was there and I had a full throat of it. The hate almost choked me up even though it had no specification. It was a pure hate without direction, the feeling itself.

I had no time to think how strange it is or why it’s happening to me. I needed to give it away quickly otherwise that emotion could destroy my whole day. So I took the color pencils into my hand and tried to vomit the hate on the paper.

There was no intention to create a drawing, nothing to say about a beautiful drawing, it was a blind and wild scribble in the beginning. But as time passed, my soul and hand calmed down, and suddenly the first hearts appeared on the paper. It was a 100% automatic drawing, so I watched with surprise what my hand was creating. It took time, but I wanted to be sure that the hate had gone.

I would say that the original scribble is no more visible under waves of beauty and love. But I know how the picture was developed and appreciate the very personal experience that love is really everywhere, even on the bottom of hate.

Ivana

To be connected

Following my last advice, I turn attention to the faith. Although I’m not a part of any religion officially, my heart speaks Hebrew.

I have no preconditions to it from the family, it came to me in dreams many years ago and since that I’ve confirmed a strong response of my soul and heart to the sound of the Hebrew language in various circumstances, even though I didn’t understand a single word in the beginning.

I’m still on the way of searching how to implement this fact into my daily life and not to pretend anything. Maybe I’m not fast enough and this is why the violet color sits deep in the wardrobe full of dust.

So I returned to the picture I drew a few years ago, when I was trying to catch my vision of the commandments inside of the tree of life.

I have meditated over this drawing last days and it seems to me, that each of us is a kind of smart-phone with the spiritual crown instead of antenna, constantly sending messages about true personal stuff to the whole universe with stars as transmitters.

It doesn’t matter how colorful and funny things are displayed to other people, the truth is preciously mined and sent to the attention of HaShem.

Sometimes it’s hard to believe when you get no direct answer, but the point is to keep trying and stay connected, right?

With love and apology for my Hebrew handwriting,

Ivana