VISION AND ART

Janis Lander
1996

Introduction

The Radical Step

Part One: VISION

1. What is Vision

2. Seeing the physical.

3. Seeing the etheric.

4. Seeing the astral.

5. Seeing the Spirit.

6 . Working from the Eye

7. The structure of the Eye.

8. Painting from the Eye.

9. No Visualisation - please.

Part Two: ART

10. Connecting with the Muse.

11. Artist's Block.

12. The Fallow Period

13. What is Visionary Art.

14. Vision in Art

15. Cultivating Vision.

Appendix 1

Appendix 2

Note.
INTRODUCTION

This book has been written as a discussion of contemporary directions in the work of visionary artists, both from
an understanding of the tradition itself, <1> and as an indication of the impulses currently at work which will take
us into the twenty-first century. It is also expected that the suggested practices will introduce readers to the
concept of altered consciousness as a tool in creative thinking.

On a more personal note, it is a record of the experiences (up to the time of writing) of the author who, as a
professional artist with no prior knowledge of subtle anatomy, in less than three years of daily practise, has
developed awareness of the subtle structures herein described. Cultivating awareness of the body of energy
radically alters our perception of the human drama. One can only speculate what kind of art would be produced in
our culture if all writers and artists opened their perception in this way.

It should also be noted that different people perceive different layers of energy, even within the broad, general
context of subtle anatomy, and the structures described in these pages are distinctly flavoured by the author's own
vision.

All the processes referred to in the text have been developed by Samuel Sagan at the Clairvision School <2> and
are presented here as applied techniques for accessing and enhancing creative spaces. The philosophy of the
school is experiential and the students are invited to make use of the techniques in whichever way will best effect
transformation of their consciousness. The introductory technique on the third eye, on which the work is based, is
presented in Awakening The Third Eye by Samuel Sagan<3>, a knowledge of which will immediately enliven the
reader's appreciation of this brief essay.
THE RADICAL STEP (AN INTRODUCTION TO THE THEORY)

The first step of a long journey is often the most difficult. Radical thinking happens when we think outside of the
usual mental layer, (a higher frequency than the mental layer), and introduce a concept that does not fit into the
established mental pattern. In the case of vision, the first step is simply to accept that we are composed of energy;
that this energy is put together in layers, (like an onion); that the layers interpenetrate, (like milk inside water); that
the physical vehicle is merely one layer among several, and not necessarily the most interesting, the most
significant or the most enduring.

If we start perceiving ourselves as bundles of energy, then we might deduce that we can transform this energy in
any way we want to - this is Alchemy; and secondly, that we might cultivate a discernment as to the precise
nature of this energy - this is Vision.

Let us begin the journey towards vision with this perception of the self as a body of energy.

Let us try to feel the anatomy of this body of energy.

Let us experience this anatomy as a structure through which energy can flow.

Let us understand that the structure was designed for that purpose.

Let us understand that the structure can be weakened when the flow of energy is blocked, and
strengthened when the flow of energy is enhanced.

Let us accept that we can transform the structure by the kind of energy we invite or permit to flow
through it.

Applying this perception to developing vision, we could then say that the third eye is an organ of vision, and
when you activate the function (vision) you develop the structure (the eye). The more often you use the structure
deliberately, the more developed your vision becomes.

For instance, when tuning into the body of energy, the subtle bodies, you might choose a particular quality to
focus on, for example: vibration. Vibration or tingling is one of the more easily discerned qualities or modalities
of the etheric body.

Try this simple exercise: Lie down comfortably with eyes closed and let the physical body be absolutely
motionless. First, tune into the dense, heavy, stillness of the physical vehicle. Secondly, tune into the arbitrary
limits of the physical body, defined by the skin. Feel the heavy physical vehicle as motionless within the limits of
the skin. Thirdly, tune into the vibration of energy moving inside the physical body and extending beyond it. Feel
the vibration as a layer of energy within and without the physical vehicle. This is your etheric body.
If you have managed to experience the vibration or tingling of your etheric body, then you might want to explore
another quality, such as light. Or the quality of levity, or lightness. Or perhaps the quality of inner sound. Once
you have experienced these subtle qualities as tangible realities, then your vision is already awakened. It becomes
a matter of searching new qualities, new structures, and refining your experience of them.

Throughout this writing I make reference to the esoteric model of the four-fold subtle bodies, which describes a
human being as having four bodies occupying the same space/time continuum. They may be studied and
cultivated separately, but they co-exist and interact for the entire lifetime of an individual. The first body is the
physical vehicle, the one we see with our physical eyes. The other three bodies are 'subtle' bodies, so called
because human beings need to cultivate subtle perception to see them. They are: the etheric body; the astral body;
and the Ego, or Spirit.

(1) The physical body (which is somewhat akin to the deepest layer of the etheric) is the vehicle we use for living
in the physical plane. I will leave a definition of the physical body a bit vague, since one's concept of matter is
constantly modified by one's experiences during meditation. Generally speaking, matter may be regarded as
congealed energy, or as energy held together in certain structures by certain forces. How physical reality is
perceived by the mind and by the senses varies greatly from person to person and culture to culture.

The general well-being of our physical body may be felt in terms of how smoothly the lifeforce, or etheric, is able
to circulate. The physical and etheric bodies are so closely entwined that it's difficult to speak of the one without
the other. Tuning into the physical body is like tuning into the lowest note on the musical scale: it is the deepest,
heaviest, darkest, sub-stratum of ourselves, so deep in our consciousness that it be almost unconscious.

(2) The etheric body, called chi by the Chinese, and prana by the Hindus, may be regarded as the lifeforce which
circulates throughout the body of energy via channels, called meridians by the Chinese and nadis by the Hindus.
In practises such as Tai Chi or Yoga, which cultivate the flows within the etheric body, each exercise or movement
will give a direct experience of particular channels in the etheric body. During meditation, in the space of the third
eye, it is easy to perceive blocks or disflows in these channels, and use this knowledge as a starting point for the
work on the astral body.

In the martial arts, the most refined layer of etheric energy, called the jing, is cultivated in the lower chakras and
used to perform seemingly impossible physical feats. When I see it in the space of the third eye, this layer has a
silvery glow. This same energy, cultivated in a different way, in the heart chakra, and combined with other
energies, may be used for healing.

In terms of consciousness, the etheric may be experienced as a subtle vibration within the energy when the
physical body is absolutely still. As the eye opens, the etheric may be experienced as a modality of light, and also
of sound. The most refined layer may be experienced as lightness, or levity, and has a golden quality.

From the eye, you are able to perceive the different layers of the etheric in colour and light. Plants and animals
also have an etheric body, rocks do not. Much of our interaction with other living beings is through an exchange
of etheric energies, pleasant and unpleasant, and this exchange can be seen with the third eye. Each person's
etheric body is stamped first by the etheric inherited from the parents, and then by the individual astral body the
person incarnates. It is difficult to talk about an individual's etheric without speaking about his/her astral body, or
personality, since the astrality of a person gives the individual flavour to the etheric, much like salt in a soup.

(3) The astral body is also called the soul. It is the vehicle we travel in from incarnation to incarnation, and bears
the memories and scars (samskaras) of our experiences. When you go into the eye and experience the astral body
you see all sorts of extraordinary monsters, spirit guides, epic adventures, distant galaxies; in effect, you recover
your psychic memory. There is another more beautiful layer that resonates with the Spirit, and to me it looks a bit
like the night sky.

The astral body is complicated by the mental layer, or logical mind, which likes to fit experiences into neat little
boxes, and by the layer of reactive emotions belonging to characters which we have crystallised during a lifetime
and which we refer to as our personality. Thoughts and emotions colour our body of energy with an energy that is
incompatible with the Spirit, so that when we make a high vertical connection with frequencies of Spirit, or
cosmic fire, our structures are unable to hold them, and the Spirit frequencies become venomous to us. Much of
the work on self-transformation is a purification of our energy structures so that they can hold a permanent
connection with the high vertical streams of Spirit.

(4) The fourth body is the Ego, or Higher Self. This mysterious part of ourself exists for most people in the
column of Spirit (above the Head), waiting to be incarnated. We resonate with it during rare moments of opening
when we transcend the normal agitated consciousness, and experience heightened feelings of joy, peace, serenity,
enthusiasm, inspiration, aspiration, surrender, delight, generosity, tolerance, forgiveness, trust. The Spirit may be
seen from the eye as a particular unmistakable frequency of light, but there is great variety in individual flavour. In
the beginning of the work, the Spirit may be experienced most readily in the heart chakra, in the atom of light at
the center of this center, which, when aligned with the column of spirit, draws the great Light from the higher
centers and radiates this Light in such a way that is both replenishing for yourself and nourishing for those around
you. When we are resonating with the light of the Ego, we automatically move into high states of consciousness.
As the connection with the Ego becomes established, a person's aura changes noticeably: there is a solid quality,
and a lot of golden light.

The physical and etheric together form the lower complex. When a person dies, this part returns to the earth. The
astral and Ego together form the upper complex, which is the foundation of consciousness. When a person is
awake the upper complex penetrates the lower complex with consciousness, but awareness of spiritual and astral
layers is restricted, if not lost altogether. When a person is asleep, or unconscious, the upper complex leaves the
lower complex and travels in astral or spiritual planes. In death it departs permanently.

During meditation, depending on how advanced the meditator is, a person may consciously travel to distant astral
or spiritual spaces, without losing connection with the physical. This ability to exist consciously in all four layers
or bodies demonstrates freedom from the tyranny of physical consciousness. The Sanskrit word moksha or mukti
(usually translated as 'enlightenment') actually means 'liberation'. It is liberation from the physical/etheric/astral
prison that all adepts seek - although some traditions interpret this as a permanent exit from the physical plane, in
the Western tradition, liberation is regarded as the basis for the work of transformation of all of the bodies,
including the physical.

In the past it was common for people to have a clear perception of the structures and beings of the astral, etheric,
and spiritual planes.<4> People at that time had a different consciousness, more spread in the etheric layer, with
high vertical spiritual connections and less astrality. The Australian Aborigines still have a culture based on this
pure consciousness as can be clearly seen when studying the dreamtime paintings of the best of their artists. As
humans became more incarnated, that is, as the astral consciousness descended more during the incarnation, we
became more 'stuck' in the physical/material world, and we saw less. The physical vehicle has become like a
prison, we can no longer leave it when we want to: we cannot astral travel, and we cannot die at will, like our
ancestors could.

On the other hand this imprisonment has encouraged us to create a civilisation based on an aggressive and
sophisticated technology, in order to make life bearable. Thus we achieve things on the level of will that our
ancestors could not have done - meeting challenges, overcoming obstacles, designing, inventing, adapting,
exploring, conceptualising, conquering. We have become self-realising individuals, but at a cost: the astral body,
through successive incarnations, has become a complex vehicle bearing the scars of many lifetimes, so top-heavy
that our consciousness is riven into the physical. The astral impacting on the etheric pushes the etheric into the
physical, and we can't see, or escape. As well, we have lost easy access to high, vertical connections.

Rudolph Steiner has argued <5> that when the Christian Church outlawed the teaching of reincarnation in the
third century AD it was in effect a good thing because it meant that man's spiritual life would be focused on
incarnation. It was necessary so that the value of a single life, between birth and death, be acknowledged. Now
that eastern and western spiritual traditions are merging, we are free to rediscover, explore and adapt all forms of
knowledge developed over millennia, for a systematic transformation of our consciousness.

The word Chakra is a Sanskrit word meaning 'wheel'. Chakras are centres of energy in the subtle bodies. The third
eye is a chakra. There are major chakras, like the eye, the larynx, the heart, the base chakra, and minor chakras,
like the centres in the hands. The major chakras are complex astral/etheric/spiritual structures. When streams of
verticality are cultivated during meditation, the Spirit infuses the subtle structures and modifies them. The more
Spirit, or cosmic fire, can be contained in the chakras and channels, the stronger the subtle bodies become. When
you activate the function, you strengthen the structure. It is referred to in alchemy as the cooking process. Samuel
Sagan often says that the great tragedy of human beings is they cannot hold their fire. A careful observation of
these structures will give clues and insights as to how a person's energy is utilised or wasted. It is through the
mechanism of the chakras that we hold and reflect connections of Spirit frequencies, a bit like the principle of a
satellite dish. When people have not worked on their structures, their chakras are usually closed; the energy
cannot circulate properly through them, and they cannot hold much light. Each chakra has a different flavour and
a different knowingness, so that sustained work on opening one's energy means, in effect, a reclamation of one's
power.

Channels are the pathways of circulation. They can be felt very clearly during channel release exercises. Much of
the work at the Clairvision School revolves around the principal channel, in the very centre of the body of energy.
and the atoms (centres) of the major chakras are aligned along it. As always, it is through awareness that these
channels can be observed, modified, strengthened.

The terms cosmic fire and cosmic waters refer to the two great opposing principles of Spirit (fire) and matter
(waters). It is extremely difficult to give a satisfying definition of these states, since they are metaphysical, or
transcendental. Direct experience is the only teacher. The situation is further complicated by the fact that there is a
fire within matter called kundalini in the Hindu tradition, and Dragon in the western occult tradition. I refer to
these principles within the context of states of consciousness, to be explored for the vision and the knowledge
they impart. Awakening the sleeping dragon within is central to internal alchemy.

There is one last term I need to mention. Throughout this book I refer to a process called ISIS. This is the basic
Clairvision technique for sourcing. It is an interactive technique where two people work together in the space of
the third eye. One takes the role of connector and holds the space of vision (and offers directions from time to
time); the other acts as client and looks at and experiences his or her energy field. Thus the word is an acronym
derived from the letters of the process: Inner Space, Interactive Sourcing. It is the most potent technique I have
experienced for enhancing vision. At the same time, because the client is able to rest on the energy of the
connector, a dynamic field is created where major shifts can occur: clients can move blockages very quickly; they
can drop rigid, crystallised structures they've been operating through for years, but which are impeding the
creative flow. For instance, a defiant character can be a dynamic force at twenty, but at forty can be counter-
productive. You can call it re-inventing yourself, or you can call it going with the flow, but essentially it's a way of
staying open and flexible.

The simple act of observing a flow of energy can change it. The simple realisation that a person is a mosaic of
different energies, and then to see how all these energies interact to make the whole personality, (or, in alchemical
terms, to fragment the higher self), is an empowering experience. The sharpness and clarity of perception that
results from this vision is the first step towards self-transformation.

PART ONE : VISION

ONE. WHAT IS VISION

When the third eye is used consistently over a period of time as the threshold to the inner spaces of meditation, a
genuine vision develops.

For the artist, who has spent years cultivating visual sensitivity, the effect is shattering. When I refer to 'vision', I
am referring to a direct visual perception of non-physical spaces, structures, and beings, a tangible experience that
feels no different experientially from the familiar sensation of the physical eyes perceiving people and landscapes.
The difference lies in the organ of vision: physical objects are seen with the physical eyes; non-physical objects
are seen with the subtle eye, so called the third eye; and the field of vision, vast as the cosmos itself, limited only
by your willingness to explore it.

Let me emphasise that clarity of vision comes from tuning into a space and feeling it, and the energies within that
space. In the cultivation of vision it is more important to feel a space or a structure than to have images of it. The
images arrive more as a by-product of the knowledge that comes with tuning into high vertical streams of
consciousness. Trying to force images will only lead the seer into false or confusing spaces. Tuning in from a
space of openness and receptivity is the best way to approach this venture. In the Clairvision approach, spiritual
vision is not necessarily visual. At the same time, there is a clear warning to avoid contriving explanations on the
mental layer for experiences belonging to a vaster consciousness. Supermind frequencies (that is, intellectual
frequencies outside of the common mental layer), should be kept above the head so that the brain is not affected.
Samuel Sagan suggests that when a person experiences a packed thought on a high level of consciousness, it is
best to leave it packed, (as a concept). The action of bringing that thought into the mental layer and thinking it,
can give an instant headache.

All artists have 'artistic vision', which is a certain way of looking at the world, or rather, a certain way of
interacting with the world. This is often instinctive, they are born with it, and though it may predispose them to
choose a career in art<6>, it can often develop in unexpected ways. Artistic sensitivity can render sensory
perceptions more acute, in ways that not everyone experiences, and so creates a certain remoteness for the artist,
which, in turn, generates a need in the artist to recreate a plastic form of this individual vision so that others may
see it, enter into it. This implies that an artwork is an independent entity, describing a solid and complex space for
the viewer to explore, and that much of an artist's skill may be assessed by this criterion.

At the same time, insight is a dynamic energy. By this I mean that the insight carries with it an impulse to
communicate, a 'eureka!' experience. Thus I would make a clear distinction between vision as the ability to enter
into a space of altered consciousness and stay there, enjoying it as a self-contained experience; and vision as
knowledge or insight. They are closely related experiences, but may be approached as separate areas to be
cultivated. The first experience is to do with the eye, and is about awareness, perception. The second experience is
to do with the column of Spirit (above the head), and is inspirational.

Powerful centres above the head give us access to frequencies of consciousness outside of the mental/physical
reference, ranging from streams of the supermind, to stratospheres of strangeness that easily qualify as alien. And
while the experiences are common enough to be broadly categorised, allowing for comparisons to be made in the
context of a general discussion, what emerges is that each person experiences the spaces differently, and uses the
frequencies differently, according to temperament, talent, and inclination.

It is a fascinating experience to sit in a class at the Clairvision School and as a group explore and debate specific
structures or frequencies observed during a meditation, or to travel as a group to specific spaces, and later
compare notes. It is as if high vertical streams of consciousness that enter a person's energy field are then digested
and assimilated in the space of the eye - the eye being the furthest extension downwards of those chakras above
the head in the column of Spirit, but at the same time a meeting place and storehouse of both astral and etheric
information.

Just as the chakras in the physical/etheric complex vary with individuals, so too the centres in the column of Spirit
have individual variations, and most important, the connections that flow through the column are specific to that
person, on the principal of resonance. It is not always clear whether you are tuning into a high space or tuning into
a spiritual being, but if a connection is established with a particular creative, dynamic frequency, then it should be
cultivated like any other relationship. You know a connection is actively working in your life when you resonate
with the Being and act through that Being. At the same time it is vital to cultivate vision so that you may be able
to discriminate between different influences and not be mislead by frequencies of an unclear origin.

Just to digress, there is a scene in the Mike Nichols' film Wolf,<7> where the hero, who is in the process of
becoming a werewolf, in desperation swallows his scepticism, and pays a visit to an expert in the field to obtain a
means of halting the metamorphosis. The hero in this film is a highly intelligent, sophisticated, New York book
publisher, suffering a mid-life crisis. The old professor is a native of Rumania with a string of degrees after his
name. The old man tells him that during the course of a moon cycle, the wolf devours the man, leaving only the
nature and the heart. Then he looks at the hero and says "I have never seen one quite like you." During the course
of the film, another man, the hero's mortal enemy, is bitten and slowly turns into the personification of evil. The
old man says: "the demon wolf is not evil unless the man he has bitten is evil." Naturally the film climaxes with a
battle between the two wolves, a moral crisis for the hero in which his integrity and courage are tested, involving
the transformation on a Spiritual level. (Let me make note that this kind of transformation is more in line with
ancient traditions of transformation like Shamanism, where initiates merged their powers with the Elements, and
with the Spirits of certain animals: "Doesn't it feel good to be wolf" asks the old man - "power without guilt, love
without doubt...")

There is a parallel here, in that any alchemical process involving the integration and assimilation of intense spirit
frequencies by an individual, through cultivated practises of meditation, is strongly flavoured by the qualities the
individual brings to the exercise. The mind and the heart will determine the quality or flavour of the
transformation, for these frequencies are merely powers, neither good nor bad in themselves, and the whole
process appears to work by resonance. The more work a person does on himself/herself before making
connections, the better he will handle them, first from the viewpoint of ethics, and secondly from the aspect of
burnout. People are ill-advised to force a connection they are not ready to assimilate, and it is well to remember
that the same ecstatic vision that inspired William Blake to write Jerusalem, had the same astral intensity that sent
Nietzche mad, although, of course, it was coming from a different space.<8> (I would go further and say that
from my perception William Blake was a high-minded, open-hearted, modest man, who loved his wife and knew
his place in creation, whereas Nietzche, on the other hand, had many personal problems which he chose to ignore,
using the powers from the column of Spirit much like a drug: as a substitute for interaction with people, thus
intensifying his isolation, and making him vulnerable to delusions.) The poet Hopkins<9> put it succinctly:

Selfyeast of spirit a dull dough sours...

TWO. SEEING THE PHYSICAL.

The vision of the eye opens the doors of perception onto worlds behind and beyond the brittle facade which we
like to think of as solid matter.

Thus, when the eye is activated, perception of the physical world alters in all sorts of unexpected ways: mass is
perceived as a fluid substance, arbitrarily contained within the outlines of this or that object, or at times dissolving
completely into the spaces between the atoms; space is perceived as something dense and solid, more solid than
mass. Because time seems to slow down during meditation, physical light also seems to move in slow motion,
more like fluid than high-speed streams of particles, and I have observed physical light splashing off objects in a
languid, graceful fashion, quite different from the lightening-fast bouncing motion we are used to.

Colours and sounds intensify dramatically. Tuning into a physical colour from the eye is like tuning into a piece of
music - the colour vibrates, or breathes, independently of the form that it occupies, projecting itself beyond the
flat surface of the form into the immediate space. Thus you can absorb or breathe into yourself a colour (through
etheric resonance) and feel the immediate adjustment as the frequency enters your energy. I have used this
technique frequently for etheric excretion (cleansing)<10>, and for creating or enhancing spaces for travelling.

A particular favourite of mine is the vibrant mauve of the Jacaranda tree, which effects a connection with the Ego.
The greens of nature have a potent healing effect on the etheric body, particularly after a rainfall, when the plant is
full of water, and the colour has a corresponding vapourish fullness. This experience may be contrasted with the
experience of drinking in the deep azure of a cloudless sky: does it affect the etheric or the astral - or both? Is it
possible for a colour to work on the one body without having a parallel effect on the other? Nature offers an
endless variety of living colours for the artist to work with in creating subtle spaces.

The colours of certain crystals can be used discreetly for soothing emotions or enhancing states of feeling. For
example, the honey yellow of translucent amber, (not the opaque kind), captures and holds light with a certain
tonic effect on the etheric, whereas the strong midnight blue of lapis lazuli works on the mental layer, relieving
anxiety and promoting confidence. Different people are drawn to different crystals.

The benefits of wearing white clothes for therapeutic work of all kinds cannot be overestimated. If you wish to
put this to the test, wear white to a funeral and feel what happens to your energy when waves of grief (other
people's grief) wash over you. It is worth experimenting with different colours to see the effects both on yourself
and on other people when you are wearing them.
Smells also create a solid space, and can be used for travelling, particularly spices and perfumes. In a deep state of
meditation I have had the experience of being suddenly precipitated into a past life by a particular pungent smell.
Smells also act directly on the etheric: it is well known that if you breathe in the smells of food when you are
hungry, or while you are cooking, your appetite will be greatly diminished. As your eye opens you can pick up all
kinds of subtle smells - I remember as a child being fascinated by a woman with a large collection of amethyst
jewellery who insisted that amethysts exude a perfume. Similarly, certain unpleasant etheric entities secrete a
distinctive odour which can be picked up through the eye. (The eye is also a nose).

However, the most peculiar effect is with sounds. In certain states of meditation, I have often experienced a
stretching of physical space , or rather, the spaces between the molecules of air seem to loom large, and the
particles themselves can be perceived individually. In this underwater-like state, individual physical sounds appear
like entities, drifting or swimming through the fluid space like schools of fish, bizarrely shaped and coloured, or
washing over you in solid waves. ( One wonders if this is how the world appears to autistic people - weird,
wonderful, and totally incoherent.)

Because the separation of physical and etheric (or lifeforce) becomes less distinct, the eye offers a vision of
physical reality that is at once complex and simple: on the one hand, that which we habitually think of as a solid
whole is fragmented into a billion billion particles of light and sound; on the other hand, disparate solid objects
intent on maintaining their separate identities are married in the harmonious and eternal ebb and flow of lifeforce.
It could be that what people commonly view as solid matter is actually the lowest layer of the etheric perceived
by the physical senses, and the heavy density of physical matter is, in reality, a vibration so deep, that one needs
to travel into the deepest layers of the unconscious to experience it. It would then follow that the nature of
physicality is to be experienced rather by tuning into the forces of gravity in the vast quantum spaces of atoms,
than by holding a rock in your hands.

THREE. SEEING THE ETHERIC

Having survived the initial shock of physical deconstruction, or rather, deconstruction of our mental picture of
physical reality, one then begins the slow and fascinating journey of subtle reconstruction: first the etheric layers;
then the astral layers; finally the purest celestial regions of the Spirit. Of course, in practise, it is not so cut-and-
dried, since all these subtle layers are constantly interacting, intermingling, and it takes a fair amount of skill and
discernment to identify, or even experience, layers that are purest Spirit, or purely astral, or purely etheric. The
vision of subtle bodies (non-physical bodies of energy) provides a rich vocabulary of forms, entities, structures,
beings and spaces, all of which exist on the subtle planes, regardless of whether or not we are capable of
perceiving them: snakes and spirals of energy, circulations in the chakras, eddies and disflows in the aura, the
chords formed by our relationships, and everywhere extraordinary crystal constructions made of interlocking
triangles of light, the architecture of the body of energy.

The human etheric body presents like a dynamic, ongoing light show where every emotion, thought, feeling of the
astral body registers its characteristic pattern in light, colour and form. A person's state of health will show up in
the integrity of structure and quality of light of the etheric body.

Etheric and astral colours differ from physical colours in that they hold their chromatic integrity whilst
intermingling - if mauves and greens and yellows appear around a chakra they mix freely without becoming
diluted or muddied.

Our way of communicating during personal relationships is very much affected by our resonance with each other's
etheric flavour: the way a person smells (which is to say, tastes), the degree of heat or cold, (indicating an astral,
or temperamental, input), the bubbly quality in the jing (that is, the presence or absence of sexuality). All of this
suggests a particular way of occupying space, which, together with the heart quality, most defines a person.
People with a warm etheric are people whom you want to touch and be close to. People with a cold etheric isolate
themselves.

As the eye becomes more sensitive, you begin to feel distinctive textures and forms in the etheric, both your own
and other people's, as it is constantly modified by the astral flows. You can feel anger as a thick molten volcanic
eruption of energy from the lower chakra; excitation as champagne-like bubbles in the etheric envelope; grief as a
burning in the heart chakra, that rises like acid and pours out of the eyes in toxic tears; nervousness as a churning
in the solar plexus, and a strangulation in the throat chakra; sexuality has a thick fizzing quality; and a flash of
inspiration can be clearly felt and seen as a burst of light above the head in the higher centres. When people are
aggressive or hostile towards you, you can see them release at the same time clouds and spikes of etheric energies,
often very toxic to the recipient, as well as to the innocent bystander.

You can feel someone's etheric as smooth and silken, or coarse ; you can feel it as spiky, sharp, watery, dry or
desiccated, too loose, too tight; bubbly and light, or heavy and dense. These qualities reflect the generic or
inherited flavour of the etheric, but also the kaleidoscope of thoughts and emotions sweeping the astral body. You
can literally see a person's thoughts, feel his feelings. To speak of someone dying of a broken heart is factual. To
talk of an acid build-up creating ulcers and arthritis in the physical body says as much about their astrality as
about their physical intolerance of certain foods. To experience emotions as contagious is simply to be aware of
how etheric substances transfer from one person to another. When you hear a person say that someone 'looked
daggers at me', or someone 'gave me the evil eye', this is a graphic description of a transfer of energy. When you
turn around because you can feel someone looking at you, it is this transfer of etheric/astral energy you are
feeling. When the poet Hopkins described inspiration as 'A spur, live and lancing like a blowpipe's flame', he was
giving a literal description: such flows of spirit are intense and awakening streams of cosmic fire, as anyone who
has experienced them will agree.

In the space of the eye, a whole new range of sounds becomes available - subtle sounds. The etheric, the astral
and the spiritual worlds all make their own music. When Pythagoras talked of the Music of the Spheres he was
referring to the unearthly sounds of the spirit worlds. The different layers of the etheric have their individual
notes. When a person is in harmony with himself or herself, the overall tone of the etheric is a harmonious note,
like a hum. The pitch varies according to age, and the volume according to vitality. That tone has a value in terms
of sound, colour, light. It also has texture and movement.

For instance, when I tune into a person's chakras I might hear first of all a sound like a chord, either dissonant or
harmonious, depending on the state of being. Then I am able to distinguish different notes in that chord with their
corresponding tonal value or colour, and then I can begin to paint a picture of it as a structure with flows and
disflows; harmonies and discords; light and darkness; clear colours or muddy; rough or smooth texture; robust or
delicate flavour. Is the sound coming purely from the etheric layer, or does it have an astral component? How
much of the Spirit is able to shine through?

In short, seeing is all about awareness. The eye is also an ear and a nose. You can see sounds and hear colours,
you can taste textures and feel spaces. Any frequency of energy implies a presence, or some form of intelligence,
and by resonance, it is possible to tune into and move with those spaces and the beings which inhabit them.

Etheric beings vary, depending on the etheric layer you are tuning into: there are elementals on all layers; nature
spirits; astral beings which inhabit the etheric; and a variety of entities.<11>

Some of the most fascinating etheric beings can be encountered by doing sustained ISIS on the charge, the
Clairvision term for the connection of the lower chakras to the Great Dragon energy within matter. The vision of
the Dragon and the cosmic waters, and the powerful beings which inhabit these layers, has an extreme awakening
effect on the etheric body. Different modalities of fire rush explosively through the etheric, producing waves of
intense pleasure and a sense of unlimited power. It is wise to cultivate these experiences under the guidance of a
teacher, otherwise a person may feel a little unhinged, and unable to cope.

These are layers of the will, the rawest part of our energy, pure etheric power. There are certain imprints to be
found here, either inherited or laid down in early childhood, that resist all reasonable attempts to dislodge, and
have to be blasted, or burnt, energetically, at a more advanced stage of the work. It's because these kinds of
imprints are fear-based and therefore irrational that they do not respond to more conventional psychological
methods.
Deep layers of the charge have the same transforming power as high frequencies of Spirit. You could say, that
facing these deepest layers of yourself is like facing the dragon, or whatever dreaded monster presents itself - the
spectre of insanity perhaps. There is no rational approach, just the intention of the Spirit to transform - a 'cold
turkey' approach if you like.

FOUR SEEING THE ASTRAL.

The astral body, or soul, is more complicated than the etheric because it is further removed from the physical body
and because it bears the scars (samskaras) of all our previous lives as well as our current one. The samskaras, once
integrated into our energy, have a life of their own, which is why they have such an effect on our behaviour. They
can be seen clearly in the space of the eye, or tuned into and felt from the eye - in terms of the experience, seeing
and feeling are one and the same. I have seen them as whirlpools or eddies in the body of energy; other times I
have felt them as octopus entities with tentacles into the chakras; some times I feel them as clamps, or cuts, or
burns. They are always accompanied by emotions or thoughts, resulting in familiar behavioural patterns. At the
same time, they are themselves triggered by thoughts and emotions. An exploration of samskaras leads to a
penetration of the labyrinth of the mind; or an expedition into the dark, tangled forest of our emotions. It is an
odyssey into the past. The work on personal transformation involves a reclaiming of one's energy from these
vampires through simple awareness in the eye.

When you enter the space of the eye, and travel through your subtle anatomy, trying to avoid the pull of
samskaras is very much like Ulysses trying to steer a straight course between the perils of Scylla and Charybdis.
Intense work on these samskaras leads to a vivid personal experience of mythological archetypes and age-old
symbols, even ancient gods and heroes. All of a sudden, legends and symbols that one has dismissed as clichd,
regain their relevance and potency. Such an experience can give clues for a powerful, contemporary interpretation
of these images.

If, through the exploration of these astral scars, you remember a past life, you will see all kinds of unexpected
details of the scene and the person that you were. If the past-life memory involves that person's death, you will
relive it in precise detail, including the moment of death and the subsequent crossing over the threshold from the
physical/etheric into the world of spirit. Sometimes you are able to follow the Spirit on its journey between lives.
The Spirit travels to spheres of vastness and strangeness difficult to describe. It is hard to convey the intensity of
these past-life experiences, the intense reality of them, more real than watching a movie, because you are not
merely empathising with someone else's suffering, it is you in this other life who is suffering. So, it is more like a
memory that you recover. It would be quite accurate to regard the human race as suffering from general amnesia.
Plato recounts a myth which described the incarnating soul as drinking too much from the waters of Lethe, and
so forgetting its place of origin.<12> The Clairvision techniques of ISIS give an immediate and startling access to
these lost parts of the self, and an insight into how a samskara, as an absence of Spirit, can have a disastrous
effect on your present incarnation.

The astral faces of these past-life memories will frequently appear on your face during eye-contact exercises, and
your partner will see them. You, in turn, will be able to see on your partner's face many different faces in the astral
and etheric layers during eye-contact. Sometimes they are the faces of past lives; or they could be the faces of
spirit guides; or perhaps some spirit connection made in a past life that is still stamped in your energy somewhere;
occasionally you can see the faces of elementals which inhabit certain layers of the etheric; and it is usually
possible to see the forms of astral/etheric entities, parasites of the subtle bodies, hooked into the samskaric layers
of the astral<13>.

Seeing faces on your partner's face during eye-contact is a basic experience, and a good way to get into the vision
of the eye. Sometimes you can see one of your own faces on your partner. In the space of darkness visible,<14>
the physical form of the person in front of you disappears, and although your eyes are open, they are not
focussed. What you are looking at is the energy field of that person, in the space of the eye. The fact of having the
physical eyes open merely creates a field between the two of you. You are not looking into the person's physical
eyes, because, quite simply, you can no longer see them. Also you will be able to see very easily the connections,
or chords, which bind you to the people you are closely involved with, and whether they are healthy or not.

Thought-forms, like vivid pictures, can be easily picked up in the astral field. This happens whether or not you are
in the eye, as these kind of energies easily stick in the etheric - so much so, that one of the early practices involves
sealing the mental layer so that this will not happen. Still, for the artist, it presents an entirely new way of painting
a portrait. It is an interesting exercise to sit on a bus and make yourself receptive to the thoughts of your fellow
passengers: having received a thought-form, to then find the source of it. To receive thought forms consciously
rather than unconsciously gives a lot of freedom in social intercourse: one is no longer the victim of thoughts and
emotions that are not even one's own.

The other talent that can be cultivated at this stage is astral travelling. Children seem to do it more easily than
adults, which implies again that impaction of the subtle bodies into the physical increases as the astral body
becomes more incarnated - a process which accelerates after puberty. The Clairvision techniques of Night Practice
are designed to develop awareness of the different layers, and cultivate consciousness during the shift from the
physical plane to the astral plane (as when people fall asleep). Thus the precious experiences that we cannot
remember from our sleeping hours, are reclaimed by vision: if, first thing upon awakening, a person goes into the
space of the eye, and holds oneself in the column of Spirit, gradually one learns to recapture the memories of the
night's travels.

At the same time, there are all sorts of interesting astral beings to meet and/or observe. Some astral beings live
permanently in the etheric layers, and draw their powers from those layers, others, more evolved and mysterious,
live in high astral planes. All human beings have connections with different kinds of astral beings, and they can be
observed clearly in the space of the eye.

Astral beings often present themselves as friends, or guardians. They offer protection to you, and also, if they are
powerful enough, they offer certain powers - the vision and knowledge of the astral spaces they inhabit. Quite
often, if one's connection to an astral being has been established over several lifetimes, it has, in a sense, been
instrumental in lifting one from a dreamy, blobby state, to a condition of sharp astrality. However, at some point in
the work, it becomes obvious that it is time to sever the connection to the astral being, in order to open to a much
vaster, higher, more powerful connection. This will be indicated to you by your teacher. Connections to astral
beings are complex, and often painful, and need to be sourced thoroughly during ISIS for Spiritual evolution to
continue.

FIVE. SEEING THE SPIRIT.

How do you know when you are feeling Spirit frequencies? Once again it varies with different people but it is
generally recognised as a particular frequency of light, accompanied by a lightness, or joy - joie de vivre, the joy
of being. And this feeling comes regardless of what activity you are actually engaged in at the time. It is simply a
state of being, described by Coleridge<15> as:

A new Earth and new Heaven,

Undreamt of by the sensual and the proud-

Joy is the sweet voice, Joy the luminous cloud -

We in ourselves rejoice!

And thence flows all that charms or ear or sight,

All melodies the echoes of that voice,

All colours a suffusion from that light.

Most artists will freely admit to being in love with light. Turner<16> is purported to have said on his deathbed that
the sun was his only god. William Blake<17> took it one step further:

God appears & God is Light

 To those poor souls who dwell in Night

At the same time frequencies of Spirit have different flavours, activate different functions of consciousness and
give different experiences. For instance, there is the common experience of bliss that derives from a particular
sweet, nourishing nectar-like frequency, attuned with the cosmic waters. There is another modality of the cosmic
waters that gives the experience of vast spreading into a cosmic dreaming layer: on the one hand this can be used
for prophetic visions, but overindulgence can induce a vegetative, blob-like state. Then there is a great clarity and
precision that comes from connecting with sharp, fast frequencies, attuned with the cosmic fire. There are ideas or
concepts that flow with certain dense, supermind frequencies, or what Samuel Sagan refers to as vertical
thinking. Then there is the experience of shining like a sun that comes from connecting with the Ego and holding
it in the centres above the head, and in the heart. It takes practise to be able to distinguish these different
frequencies; to connect with them at will; and a further skill to be able to hold these states and use them for
visions, or to take trips, rather than getting hyper, or losing consciousness. There is an art to hooking in, and an art
to holding.

We are instinctively drawn to people who are able in one way or another to radiate the Light of the Spirit. Stephen
Spender<18> wrote:

I think continually of those who were truly great,

Who, from the womb, remembered the soul's history

Through corridors of light where hours are suns

Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition

Was that their lips, still touched with fire,

Should tell of the Spirit clothed from head to foot in song.

Strictly speaking, Visionary art refers to vision by and of the Spirit, however this vision can be of heaven or of
hell. They are facets of each other. Hell may be seen as the abyss where all beings are disconnected from the
Light. This disconnection is the source of their pain. Whether it is a permanent state is debateable, and there are
many mysteries associated with the forces of darkness. For instance, Steiner asserts<19> that beyond a certain
level of consciousness, Lucifer is not evil. This might explain why the word 'Lucifer' means 'bringer of light',
perhaps in the tradition of Prometheus. However, when I have tuned into some great astral beings, they appear to
be highly structured beings of superior intelligence, but they are structured around the principle of chaos. Chaos is
a fertile state of infinite potential. To crystallise a structure around it involves a wrong tension. This seeming
contradiction causes intense inner conflict, and is the source of their pain.

Passing through dark spaces (of despair) without getting overwhelmed, is to walk through the valley of darkness
<20> while still retaining a connection to the Light. Artists frequently draw from the knowledge of such spaces to
enrich their work, but at the same time get sucked into a downward spiral of depression followed by apathy. There
is definitely a skill to handling dark spaces. When you are in the darkness you cannot see the Light, and when you
are in the Light you forget about the darkness. In the world of dualities they seem mutually exclusive.

Whenever you make a connection with a high astral being, you may feel a sense of enormous power, but there is
always an attending conflict. It could be argued that this conflict is part of the transition from one level of
consciousness to a higher one, as the voltage is turned up, and so is a healthy sign. However these are individual
insights, born of the experience, and there is some confusion at all levels of awareness. Some insights are so vast
that it is impossible to phrase them in human terms. (But to be perfectly honest, at the present time of writing, I
feel that an advanced astral being would very likely present itself as a powerful being of Light, and I am not sure
that I would know the difference.)

The worlds of the spirit feel very different in quality to astral spaces. They radiate a fullness that brings profound
peace. By and large, spiritual beings can be recognised because they reflect different modalities of Light. They can
be experienced individually or in crowds, (as in a choir of angels) They seem to be able to join together in
harmony and separate at will. They have a very different organisation from human beings, and we can only be
grateful that they take an interest in us. The most efficient way of making a connection with a spiritual being is
quite simply to open the heart and pray. The purity of an open heart is very attractive to an angel, and makes a
perfect emptiness for the Light to rest in. Spirit beings are generous with themselves and their Light brings all
kinds of gifts to the recipient.

The first time I experienced the journey of my own Spirit after death, during an ISIS, was the first time I
understood how foreign is matter to the Spirit. I had experienced several past life deaths previously, but I had
never been able to follow the spirit after it left the body, probably because the deaths had been violent and
traumatic. This death was serene. This was a healthy old woman who died in her bed, having raised a family and
been an active pillar of her community and church. The ISIS began with my awareness of being cold, heavy, still -
like a marble statue, prone, in a narrow, dark space. (I should explain that for this ISIS I, as the client, was lying
down with eyes closed, and my connector was seated close by.) I spent a long time with the corpse in the coffin,
unable to leave. I seemed to be crushed into a wafer-thin layer by the weight of the huge body of congealed flesh.
My Spirit had forgotten how to live outside of the physical vehicle. Finally my connector said (with a touch of
impatience) "You're a Spirit - rise!"

With an enormous effort of will I forced myself through the opening at the crown chakra and was free of the
body, but then, I couldn't get out of the coffin! I panicked! I pushed against the lid, against the walls, I was
trapped! I could see the frozen, mountainous body stretched out below me, and I couldn't bear to be near it any
longer. It felt like a prison I had escaped. In the ISIS I became hysterical. Again my connector reminded me, very
calmly, "You're a Spirit, matter can't hold you, find a way out." So I became like vapour and drifted through the
joins of the lid and floated up into the tall thin trees growing around the graveyard. My Spirit hung out with the
trees a long time, drifting in the evening breeze, taking great pleasure in being unencumbered. Far below, the neat
little graveyard, and the neat little village beyond it grew indistinct in the twilight. Finally my connector said,
"You have to go now." So reluctantly I began the journey, without knowing where I was going. My Spirit was as
innocent as a child, as forgetful as an amnesiac.

I spun backwards a long time during the ISIS as the Spirit went farther and deeper into layers of spaces. Finally it
passed through a fire that seemed to be cleansing process. This felt very good. The Spirit stretched out in purest
joy, endlessly in space like a piece of taffy, as far as I could see. Then it drew itself together and entered the aura
of a great sun, where many presences were gathered, for an assessment. At this point I experienced profound
regret, and my Spirit was in pain. "What's the matter?" asked my connector? "I forgot to change" I moaned. It was
in this ISIS that I experienced first-hand how close the Spirit is to God in the joyful lightness of its being, and
what a dead weight physical matter appears by contrast. Truly, people who live only in the awareness of their
physical bodies, are sleepwalkers.

The Spirit can feel powerful, like a bolt of lightning, or a trumpet blast. It can also feel soft and gentle, like a
caress. It is a particular strength in the heart that can withstand a saga of devastation, and at the same time feels
itself reflected in all creation. It resonates with Oneness, and at the same time carries the consciousness of the
individual Ego. Most of the time, it's when we tune into the column of spirit above the head, either in ourselves or
in others, that we feel most accurately the true flavour of a person's spirit. Coleridge described the flavour and
light of the spirit graphically:

This light, this glory, this fair luminous mist,

This beautiful and beauty-making power.

Joy, virtuous Lady! Joy that ne're was given,

Save to the pure, and in their purest hour,

Life, and Life's effluence, cloud at once and shower..

Spiritual Beings announce their presence with subtle sounds: with some it is loud and sudden like a full orchestra,
with others it is flowing and melodious, like a harp. They leave a trail of brightness - a swirl of light and colours,
a bit like the hem of their garments. While they are with you, you are bathed in their presence, cleansed and
replenished. You are free to drink in their energy like a libation; they are generous with themselves. The
cultivation of a particular connection often begins with the recognition of the signature flavour of a being, the
taste of its presence.

SIX WORKING FROM THE EYE.

With constant use, the eye becomes strong, and then you become aware of its many functions. Not only is it the
organ of vision, it provides a space of calm assessment. It is the eye of the storm. It is a space for grounding and
centring. It is the first connection with the powerful chakras above the head.

The eye is a safe place for artists to view their inner space without getting sucked into the maelstrom. Like a split
consciousness, the artist can explore the subject at hand, be it traumatic or otherwise, and at the same time
maintain an objectivity or detachment. If it seems paradoxical that a person can be both emotional and calm at the
same time, then indeed paradox is the nature of the eye, and of subtle bodies in general. As the work proceeds and
it becomes apparent that what we think of as a more or less integrated personality is in reality a number of astral
and etheric entities functioning haphazardly inside one person, collected over a long period of time spanning
many lifetimes; and that time itself is fixed neither forwards nor backwards, but exists at the point where you
choose to focus your consciousness, then the eye begins to assume the status of truth seeker, and you use it to
maintain equilibrium in what is a long and arduous journey.

Sometimes you will see things in the space of the eye that produce a strong reaction of fear. See the fear as a flow
of energy, notice where it comes from (eg lower chakra or solar plexus) and source it. Fear, anger, resistance of
any kind, may be used as a valuable tool in understanding how one's energy flows - or is blocked.

Traditionally artists have always been willing to trade suicidal lows in return for the rush of creative highs. It is
considered the price that one pays, almost an essential part of the creative process. In the eye there are no mood
swings. It is a state of consciousness easily accessible, and by habit, maintained. It offers an alternative to drugs
and alcohol so frequently relied on by creative people to access the intensity and inspiration needed for their
work. Once you get used to living in the eye there is no reason not to be in the eye. You rest in it, it is both the
threshold to and the centre of, consciousness. It is for this reason that so many statues of Buddha in south-east
Asia have a jewel in the middle of the forehead.

At the same time, the artist can use the eye as a tool for discernment between problems of perception (vision), and
problems of execution (invention). A work of art can fail for two reasons - either the artist has not been clear as to
what he/she wished to say through the image, or because he/she has used his materials ineffectively. Once initial
skills have been mastered, it is clarity of vision and confidence of execution that determine the quality of a work
of art.

SEVEN THE STRUCTURE OF THE EYE

As a structure, the third eye is roughly shaped like a tunnel, going from the front of the forehead to the back of
the head. The different areas are specifically suited to its different functions and the different layers give direct
access to corresponding layers both in one's own subtle structures and in vast or distant subtle worlds. It is through
cultivation of the principle of resonance that one can travel.

The front part of the tunnel can be felt as an oval disk of light - a mirror to reflect the world; or like a beacon of
light which you can use to shine on the subject under observation. Very often the thing that entities hate most of
all is to be looked at, and the particular clarity of the eye has the immediate effect of dissolving chaos and
confusion that have kept you emotionally entangled in a situation long after your rational mind has dismissed it
from your life. ("The eye is the light of the whole body, so that if thy eye be clear the whole of thy body will be lit
up; whereas if thy eye is diseased, the whole of thy body will be in darkness.")<21> This leads to a deeper, more
mature understanding of one's personal development, an overview of the individual journey, which can only
enrich the artist's work.

When the eye is fully opened I feel it as a great hole extending to the cheekbones. As with all the chakras, there is
light all around it. Sometimes, with an adept, this light is so intense it extends like a unicorn's horn on the
forehead. (A teacher can use this device to penetrate his students' fogginess. It has an awakening effect, which I
have occasionally experienced, courtesy of my teacher.) The space is sometimes perceived as purple in colour,
hence the name 'purple space', but I have always experienced it as a crossing over the threshold into a vast
darkness like the night sky, so the phrase 'darkness visible' (used throughout Atlantean Secrets) <22> seems both
poetic and accurate. The experience of expanding the consciousness throughout these astral spaces, and the
encounters with beings which inhabit them, is unforgettable. The Clairvision tradition is one of travelling, and the
school offers all sorts of techniques for a systematic cultivation of altered states of consciousness, and the
subsequent expansion of creativity.

Entire layers of the space may be experienced as a colour. They may be astral or etheric, or a mixture of both.
They are intense and quite different from physical colours. There is a knowledge to be gained from simply
experiencing them as they happen, without trying to hold the experience or repeat it. Quite often, the moment you
try and grasp an experience, it disappears. The best thing to do is remain absolutely motionless, and rest in the
space, and let come what will. There are different experiences of Light as you travel in the space, sometimes of
singular lights, sometimes of galaxies, as in the 'field of stars'. Some lights may draw you more than others: let
yourself be drawn in.

The most efficient way of moving in the space is to use the clockwise spiralling offered by the vortices. From the
outside, and at the threshold, the structure of the third eye feels like a tunnel, and its inner wall, so to speak, can
be felt as a vortex. If you move with the shape of it, you can travel fast and deep. Once you have moved into the
space, (or once the eye has opened, which is another way of phrasing it)<23> there are many such vortices linking
the different layers. Any vortex may be used for travelling and it's best to travel reasonably fast through them.
Thus your consciousness can learn to travel through space and time, and slowly map the different spheres. It may
make you feel a little nauseous at first, but this will pass. (When I was first learning to use the vortices, I moved
slowly to avoid the nausea. In one vortex I lingered too long and was approached by crawling, nightmarish
creatures with burning eyes, which scared the hell out of me. I was advised to move my astral body a little faster
next time.)

In the central layers are spaces for travelling. These provide an unending supply of material - when one theme is
exhausted, an exploration of the space will provide another. The space of the eye is the inner space. It is a
reflection of your own individual flavour of consciousness: the astral record of your past lives, the record of the
etheric imprints you have inherited from your parents, the major events which have shaped your consciousness in
this incarnation. As well, the inner space is a reflection of greater cosmos, ( 'as above, so below...') and so, by
resonance, you are able to travel to distant and alien spaces and meet the intelligences that inhabit them. Thus you
can infer that there are two experiences of the inner space, the subjective and the objective, even though
experience of objective reality is usually filtered through the individual's perception of it, and is rarely wholly
objective.

It is an interesting exercise, once you have become accustomed to your own space, to sit in front of somebody
and establish eye-contact, and go into that person's space with them, seeing their structures and their beings, and
in many cases helping them to see more clearly how their energy flows or is blocked.<24>

At the center of the structure is the atom of the eye, which is in line with the atoms of all the other centers of
energy in the subtle bodies, both travelling down into the physical/etheric layer, and travelling up into the column
of Spirit above the head. The atom of the eye is a place of stillness and strength, and imparts a sense of Self, the
flavour or essence of the individual Spirit, and a flow of power or will. Thus the eye may be seen as the meeting
place for all the streams of consciousness of a human being - the inspiration and creativity, the anguish and
confusion, a blueprint of the individual to be explored and decoded. For the artist, it becomes a source of images,
symbols, scenarios, concepts, and extraordinary visions.

EIGHT. PAINTING FROM THE EYE.

During those good times when the artist feels the 'flow' of the creative impulse, and the painting seems to paint
itself - what is happening? Two things: first, the painting has been envisioned complete in its 'unpacked' form, a
completed image, so to speak; secondly, the painting has been executed in accordance with this vision, without
'unpacking' it, which is to say, without analysing it. More precisely, the vision has been given a physical form. The
first part is a process of vision, the second part is a process of execution, and although they may be approached as
separate problems, it is through understanding how the two interrelate, that the finished work retains the freshness
and vitality of the original vision. This becomes obvious if one observes art students in class: the first blocking in
of the image on the canvas, the outline and tonal blocking are vigorous; as the work progresses layer by layer, it
slowly dies, until, by the end of the class, all that remains is a dull, forced picture. Why does this happen? In a
beginner, it's because the technical skills have not been mastered, and the student is struggling with problems of
drawing and painting. Bearing in mind that the celebrated Australian artist Fred Williams<25> once said that it
takes 500 paintings to become an artist, this struggle can go on for quite a while. In the case of an advanced
student, it is because, in focusing on technical problems, the mental layer has taken over from the inspirational -
paralysis by analysis.

Seeing is also understanding - there is knowingness in the eye. Vision is intuitive, it is a stream of packed
thoughts. The minute you unpack a thought you are moving into the mental layer, which is analytical. There is a
delicate balance to be maintained between the original concept, which implies everything, and the rendering of it,
which is a skilful application of specific technical knowledge. It is very important to keep referring to the initial
vision during the work - this means literally taking time out, sitting in front of the work with eyes closed, going
into the Eye, and re-experiencing the image as a living entity; then, still in the Space, open the eyes and look at
the image you have produced on the canvas. Does it resonate with the original concept? If not, is it because you
have not fully understood the concept, or is it merely that you have not been accurate or inventive enough in the
physical rendering of it? Here you can use the creative energies as an impulse for an experimental approach to
your materials and technique, so that the initial inspiration translates into inventiveness of execution.

Beware too much explanation. Mystery is implied, never explained. Too much explanation kills the subtlety and
profundity of a work. Since Visionary Art in its truest sense seeks to present a formal image of the mysteries of
being and consciousness, it often expresses itself in the language of paradox. However, deliberate obfuscation is
always irritating and leads to accusations of pretentiousness. In art the strength of the statement lies in what is left
out. The strength of visionary art depends on how clearly the artist has understood the symbolic significance of a
vision, and how well he or she can imply these layers of meaning in terms of the human experience, in a 'packed'
form, without being obscure.

NINE. NO VISUALISATION - PLEASE.

For the cultivation of vision, one must refrain from visualisation (or imaginative) techniques, which will only
impede the developing vision. When William Blake announced to a startled visitor that he had that morning had a
conversation with the Angel Gabriel, he meant just that, he wasn't making up stories. Vision is direct. It happens.
You don't make it up. It flows to you from the centres in the Column of Spirit. It is a powerful stream of
frequencies that carry visions, among other things, with them. Preconceptions and expectations will inhibit the
natural flowering of your vision in terms of individual direction and flavour. Vision is the knowledge which
comes from an experience of states of consciousness. Imagining that there is this or that happening above your
head will interfere with your perception of what is actually happening.

Many visionaries have given lengthy descriptions of the dynamic flow from the centres above the head<26>. After
consciousness is established in these centres, there is a shift into using the flows. Vision is probably the first
manifestation of vertical frequencies, followed by other powers such as telepathy, prophecy, communication skills,
crowd control and others. It depends on the user. Vision is not about seeing images and interpreting them, as in
clairvoyance. In clairvoyance you make yourself empty and then wait for the images to come. Vision is about
expanded consciousness. In that state of awareness comes a knowingness, and with that knowledge comes a
transformation of energy structures. They become wiser. There follows a maturation of perception over a period
until such time as the inner reality is no longer a vague intuition but as tangible as the outer physical reality. Then
at some point the reality of subtle perception is more real than the old limitation of physical vision. All kinds of
powerful frequencies may be accessed, and their knowledge is made available.

One of my fellow students, a composer,<27> has described these inspirational frequencies as 'thunderbolt'
frequencies. I feel them more as a slow streak of lightning. But we are all agreed that they are both visionary and
dynamic, in as much as you can't just sit with them, you have to do something with them - perform, create, write.
These frequencies are awakening as well as inspirational, and give an artist the impetus to carry out all the less
creative but essential tasks of organisation, promotion and business. So in practise, it feels as though one's creative
evolution is speeded up.

PART TWO: ART.

TEN. CONNECTING WITH THE MUSE.

Apart from the burst of energy, there is often a sense with the creative flow that you have connected with a being
who is generously pouring a stream of fertile ideas into your consciousness, ready-made, and that you, the artist,
are merely the willing receptacle, the open channel. Writers will speak of the moment when the characters take
over, and the story writes itself. Composers will speak of the music flowing through them already composed.

During those times when the creative energies are flowing unimpeded I am aware of being receptive to the flow,
not as a vague wanting, but as a specific willingness to receive: surrender as an active principle. Wanting can
create a passive, static field, a waiting energy; desire creates an active receptivity, in the sense that you make
yourself empty in order to receive, and then something flows into the void. (Of course, you have to be very clear
about what it is you want to receive, otherwise anything could turn up.) So the challenge with the creative flow
becomes a matter of establishing a connection with the muse, and then sustaining this flow while working,
despite technical problems, or other interruptions. It is not enough to sit and stare at a blank page, hoping for
inspiration to strike, there is a certain way of hooking into a vertical stream, to attract the creative flow. Constantin
Brancusi, a sculptor of mysterious and beautiful images, put it this way: "It is not the doing of things that is
difficult. What is difficult is getting into the right mood to do them."<28>

Most artists I know have a ritual of some sort to get the flow started. It can be a very simple routine. A routine
becomes a ritual when it is used (either deliberately or intuitively ) to effect a change in consciousness. It can be
something as simple as walking into a room, closing the door, sitting down, switching on the computer. I have
often observed artists setting up. During the careful laying out of materials they make the transition from normal
mental consciousness to creative consciousness. They hook in, or switch on, or change gear.

Mornings are especially fragile. Many successful business people have a morning routine - a brisk walk, a hot
shower, a quiet breakfast, a few moments spent contemplating a favourite view, or a structured meditation or
yoga practise. This ritual establishes a connection and sets the day in motion. It is a certain flavour of
consciousness that is being sought, a certain verticality that is established. Michaelangelo had the habit of sleeping
overnight in the quarry where he obtained the marble for his statues. He maintained that the first rays of morning
light, shining through the marble, revealed the form of his sculpture to him, as in a vision. His God-given work
was to release the Spirit within the stone.<29>

Similarly, artists foster the vertical connection. Many writers have a set work time, when the phone is
disconnected, there are no distractions and they cannot be reached; they have a particular work place, harmonious
with their inner atmosphere, which nurtures the connection. Some writers like to work in the middle of noise and
confusion, others prefer a monastic cell. Some work strictly nine-to-five, others prefer to work through the night.
(William Faulkner<30>wrote As I lay Dying while working the night shift in a local power station, because he
needed the job, but there weren't many interruptions at night.)

This preparation sets the tone, creates the receptive field, and without it nothing happens. But the ritual will not in
itself guarantee an inspired flow, moreover, inspiration can come at the most unexpected moments, on a bus, or in
odd company. So the muse appears capricious, and pours the stream of inspiration at her own whim. Or perhaps
we are not fully aware of the factors involved in facilitating the flow. Either way, this inconsistency prevents us
from becoming vain of our gifts, reminds us of our frailty, and fosters humility in the artist.

Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote of inspiration: 'The word inspiration need cause no difficulty. I mean by it a mood
of great, abnormal in fact, mental acuteness, either energetic or receptive, according as the thoughts which arise in
it seem generated by a stress and action of the brain, or to strike into it unasked.'<31> To his friend Robert
Bridges he wrote about 'The fine delight that fathers thought; the strong/ Spur, live and lancing like the blowpipe
flame...' in the following poem:

Sweet fire, the sire of muse, my soul needs this;

I want the one rapture of an inspiration.

O then if in my lagging lines you miss

The roll, the rise, the carol, the creation,

My winter world, that scarcely breathes that bliss

Now, yields you, with some sighs, our explanation.

(To R.B.)

ELEVEN ARTIST'S BLOCK.

Having performed the daily ritual, it is not at all unusual for an artist to work solidly, and at the end of a day's
work, tear it all up. This is not the time to hit the bottle, sink into cynicism, or engage in other self-destructive
activities, but to go into the Eye and try and see the nature of the problem; or merely to rest in the space. If there
is a continuing block, then ISIS or a similar technique should be used to source the block as an obstruction of
energy, and this in itself can often start a whole new cycle of creativity.

Sometimes when you have penetrated the blockage as far as you can, you come to a kernel of non-specific pain
so intense, it is just as if someone were sticking a red-hot poker through your heart chakra. Such pain often seems
out of all proportion to the outward circumstances of your life, it feels like the accretions of millennia. If you can
force yourself to sit absolutely still and hold the pain, these 'encapsulations' can be shifted, and all kinds of
inexplicable depressions and negative emotions can be dropped.

An ISIS sheds a clear light on your inner space. A successful ISIS will always give a new perspective, a fresh
insight, a greater depth of understanding. Despair can sometimes be just the flip side of vanity, and should be
watched carefully. But it can also be a pit, and turn into the dark night of the soul that mystics speak of.

Certain dark spaces have a sucking power, and can leech your will. Once deeply in them, it is very hard to get out
again, one needs to have a routine or process of some kind, to break up the space, or to source the astral
connection that draws one there in the first place. The dark spaces contain a truth that needs to be acknowledged,
even though it be a limited truth (I am thinking of the power in the dark visions of Goya's last paintings) and from
this perspective, the Light, because it excludes this truth, appears also to be limited, so that one turns round and
round endlessly in a cage of one's own limitations. Energetically these dark spaces are encapsulations where the
Spirit cannot penetrate, and because they are closed spaces, it is hard to open to the Light when one is in them.
Something more drastic is needed. I remember on two separate occasions when I was having an ISIS and deeply
encapsulated in a dark space, the energy cracked it open like an egg. Alternatively, if one can move through the
layers of grief, cynicism, despair, to a place of emptiness where there is no pain, then that emptiness can open to
the Light.

A perfect example of this can be seen in the film 'Shawshank Redemption'<32>, based on a story by Stephen
King. In this film the protagonist is given a life sentence on circumstantial evidence. His first challenge is to
maintain his inner light, his second challenge is to bring that light into the dark place to which fate has brought
him. There is a magical scene which could serve as a metaphor for this theme, where the protagonist locks
himself in the warden's room and plays a Mozart aria over the loudspeaker system for the inmates to hear. A hush
falls over the crowded prison as every man is lifted momentarily by the sweet, clear, soprano voices, from the
miserable prison atmosphere into a realm of purest Spirit. When he comes out of solitary confinement a mate asks
him if he was lonely in the 'hole', and he says, pointing to his head and his heart, that he had Mr Mozart to keep
him company. For this man, his imprisonment gives him the opportunity to open to that part of himself that is
permanently connected to the Light.
Depression, on the other hand, should be patiently sourced and often yields unexpected results. Lack of
confidence often disappears with the gradual cultivation of visionary techniques. If you love what you do then
that love will carry you through times when the work seems to be going badly. This translates as joie de vivre -
the joy of being. If your motive is along the lines of proving yourself, or pleasing people, impressing people, then
it is pure samskara, and will fail you at a certain point. You will look at your life as an endless struggle, and
wonder why you are putting yourself through it. The only thing we can rest on securely is the Spirit, being the
strongest part of the energy. Seen from the eye, the light of the Spirit is extraordinarily beautiful - it has a
diamond quality and a sun quality, it is full of music, it is a food you can absorb like nectar or ambrosia, and it is
the only thing that can sustain us in this heavy physical layer.

When an artist suffers burnout, it is often a sure sign that a theme has been exhausted, and a fallow period is
about to set in. Artists' Block feels unmistakably like an obstruction, and can be seen clearly in the eye during
ISIS. A fallow period feels more like a general fatigue of the channels of inspiration, as if the muse is having a
long lunch break.

TWELVE. THE FALLOW PERIOD.

There is a positive way of looking at a fallow period as a necessary time to store new information, absorb fresh
stimuli, be open and receptive to new influences. Because the creative flow feels like such a high, when the
fallow time first hits, it can feel like a drop in the energy, rather like depression. This is the perfect time to practise
meditation techniques, so that even if you are not actively creating, you can at least connect to high frequencies
that feel as good while they are with you. This is a sustenance, a feeding process, an active part of the fallow
period. It is for this reason Samuel Sagan has said "paradoxically, the device is more important than the Light",
meaning that if you have an effective meditation technique, it will carry you through times of low energy.
Remember that when a farmer leaves a field fallow, he lets it fall into chaos: he is expecting the sun to shine on it,
the rain to fall, the birds to make droppings, the animals and insects to roam around. This random input will help
make the earth fertile again. So too the artist should work with the fallow period, not against it, and trust that the
creative stream will take him on an interesting detour to an interesting destination.

There is the story of Matisse<33> taking a year off from painting in mid-career, and spending the time learning
the violin. He said later, after he had resumed painting, that he felt secure knowing that if he dried up
permanently, he could always earn a living busking on street corners. Admirers of his work will perhaps discern a
certain musical quality in his use of colour in the later work that is not there in the earlier. Even at the end, when
he was bed-ridden, and he got his assistants to move large pieces of hand-coloured paper around on the ceiling,
he used his circumstances to create the quintessence of a simplified, potent statement of his unquenchable joie de
vivre.

Probably the most famous example of cultivated inspiration is Monet's<34> love of gardens. Not only did he
leave his beautiful gardens for generations to enjoy, but some of his most celebrated pictures are paintings of the
garden and man-made lake. In his old age he had a flowering of vision equal to Rembrandt's or Michaelangelo's.

In the case of Michaelangelo, who lived a monkish life, dedicated to his narrative vision of God and man, he
appears to have crystallised spiritual frequencies to such a degree that by the end of his long life, when he took up
architecture, it seems like he moved his consciousness permanently into the column of Spirit and just brought
down the packed forms for people to live in.

Personal tragedies enrich and colour an artist's work in ways we can only speculate upon. Beethoven's deafness,
Van Gogh's bouts of insanity, Modigliani's instability, the death of Rembrandt's wife, seemed not to diminish their
intense connection with creative streams, but if anything, intensify their appreciation of a state of consciousness
beyond human suffering. There is an alchemy that happens in the creation of an artwork, where the true
expression of every human feeling can be assimilated and somehow transformed into a complex whole.

In an ideal world it would be wonderful to have the perfect space - an eyrie, a cabin, an office, a studio - and
uninterrupted time to create masterpieces, but most of the time artists work in the midst of raising a family,
running a business, dealing with personal problems, health problems, political upheavals etc. The struggling artist
syndrome seems to continue in one form or another long after financial success has been attained. There is a
wonderful story that the Mother<35> tells (repeated in Satprem's book The Adventure of Consciousness)<36>
where she describes an incident during a storm at Pondicherry. She ran upstairs to Sri Aurobindo's room to close
the windows and fasten the shutters, but when she knocked and entered, peace reigned in the room: the windows
were wide open, but Sri Aurbindo, writing with intense concentration at his desk, created such a solid field of
energy within the room that the raging storm remained outside.

This, surely, is the artist's ideal - to create a field of presence in the midst of life's chaos, and maintain a high
connection, no matter what. A solid technique of meditation works to achieve this ideal. Even if the flow is
uneven in quality of inspiration (who can guarantee that the muse will deliver every time) the space is always
available and the benefits from resting in that space are tangible. The artist knows that there will be ebb and flow,
but during quiet times there is an open invitation to cultivate frequencies that carry remote and different states of
consciousness. These are the states that will give the unmistakable visionary flavour to the work when the artist
resumes production.

A word to women: Tuning into the death space during the first two days of menses can make all the physical and
emotional pain more tolerable. The acute disappointment of the uterus, which has worked so hard for that month
to prepare the vessel for a spirit, is like a mourning for a lost life. Of course you can fight it, or ignore it, but it's
hard to live the normal structured life when the etheric is in a process of disintegration. It's more useful to allow
oneself to fall into chaos for a day or two, use it as a fallow period and take the opportunity to tune into the
principal of the prima materia in its eternal cycle of disintegration and regeneration, and see what wisdom may
come of it. One is more patient with the physical process if one can see it in larger terms as the re-enactment of
the drama of birth and death.

The fallow period is the time for tuning into fertile chaos, the cosmic principle of unlimited potential, whence all
things may emerge.

THIRTEEN WHAT IS VISIONARY ART.

In a broad sense all art is visionary in that it reflects an artist's unique vision. But, generally speaking, we reserve
the word 'visionary' for works of art that deal with mysticism in one form or another. Artistic intensity and clarity
of perception are not by themselves enough to qualify a work as 'visionary'.

How do we recognise art as visionary - rather than intellectual, satirical, sensual, erotic, expressionistic,
surrealistic, etc? The clearest way is by tuning into the space the artist is painting from. Vision is an experience,
you can't intellectualise about it. Visionary art always either describes or implies a consciousness vaster than the
normal mental/physical framework. Particularly in painting and poetry, this space can be easily sourced.

For instance, Bruegel's<37> painting Icarus depicts a very ordinary scene of a ploughman tilling his field, a
fisherman and a shepherd at work, oblivious to the small tragedy happening in the right-hand corner of the
painting - Icarus falling to his death. There is no overt reference to God, but there is an overwhelming sense of a
reality more lasting than the fragmented and temporal reality depicted, captured in the beauty of the setting sun
and the luminous sky reflected in the harbour waters. Bruegel uses the mythological tale of Icarus to illustrate the
futility of ambition. At the same time he depicts the labourers absorbed in their work, blind not only to the
historical drama of Icarus but also to the beauties of nature, indicating their disconnection from a spiritual life (a
favourite theme in his work).

This inspired painting prompted W.H.Auden<38> to write the poem Musee des Beaux Arts describing his own
response to the vision in the painting:

About suffering they were never wrong,

The Old Masters: how well they understood

Its human position; how it takes place

 While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;

How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting

For the miraculous birth, there must always be

Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating

On a pond at the edge of the wood:

They never forgot

That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course

Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot

Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse

Scratches its innocent behind on a tree...

But the tone of this brilliant poem, with its sharp appreciation of the irony of human suffering, is intellectual.
Whereas in the painting there is an unspoken reference to an eternity beyond life and death, the poem is more
concerned with a sensitive observation of and weary detachment from the inevitability of pain and suffering. The
painting uses images of futility to celebrate the infinite mystery of God; the poem uses incidental images to
suggest the absurdity of human existence and the futility of human suffering in the face of cosmic indifference.
The poem makes its strongest statement if the reader has no direct experience of the independent life of the Spirit
when it is liberated from the astral and physical bodies. Auden's view, so eloquently expressed, is the view of an
intellect confined within the limitations of mental consciousness.

Dylan Thomas<39> makes an interesting faux pas when he writes:

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightening they

Do not go gentle into that good night...

And you, my father, there on that sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray,

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

In this fine piece of melodrama Thomas completely misses the point, the point being that when a person dies they
go from the darkness into the Light, not the other way around. Secondly, to die in a state of rage is the worst
possible thing to do, for the passage of the Spirit from the physical plane into astral worlds is always very much
determined by the state of consciousness you are in at the moment of passing. There is the Tibetan story<40> of a
virtuous man who was lying serenely on his death bed, waiting for the moment of his passing, when his nephew
leant down and asked him to whom he'd left his money. Whereupon the man fell into a paroxysm of rage and
died, thus sending his soul to wander in dark spaces for quite some time. It is well to remember that Dylan
Thomas was an alcoholic, and so the space he is writing from has the flavour of that particular spirit, and the
vision eventually deteriorated into delirium tremens.

Artists who rely on alcohol or drugs to induce the space of vision, risk their gift as well as their health. It is easy
to suffer creative burnout when one is not in control of the intensity of the spirit frequencies that vision rests on.
It is surely preferable to cultivate the meditation techniques that will bring the space of vision at will rather than
cultivate a dependency. As Coleridge put it:

I may not hope from outward forms to win

The passion and the life, whose fountains are within...

Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth

A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud...

These words are especially poignant when one realises that Coleridge stopped writing poetry at the age of thirty,
although he lived into his sixties, and continued writing prose. In his early years he suffered from depression and
his doctor prescribed an opiate to relieve it. It seems the opiate enhanced Coleridge's poetic vision, and produced
such extraordinary works as The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, but at the same time burned it in some way and
wore it out. There is the telling story of the writing of Kubla Khan: Coleridge awoke from an afternoon nap, and
in the threshold space between waking and sleeping, in the cloud of the opiate, with the vision still fresh in his
Eye, wrote the first three verses of the poem. There is an immediacy in the tone of these verses that suggests the
direct transcription of a vision, without the mind editing it, to make sense (it appears to be drawn from archival
layers in the etheric). At this point in the writing, Coleridge was interrupted by a visitor, and when, some hours
later, he returned to finish the poem, he could not recapture the flow of inspiration, presumably because the opiate
had worn off, and he had no other way of accessing the particular prophetic stream he had tapped into. The last
verse, about 'a vision once I saw', is muted in tone, and tinged with regret:

...Beware! Beware!

His flashing eyes, his floating hair!

Weave a circle round him thrice,

And close your eyes with holy dread,

For he on honey-dew hath fed,

And drunk the milk of Paradise.

Applying this insight to artists like Toulouse-Lautrec<41> and Modigliani<42>, it is very difficult to separate the
art from the drug dependency. Since both artists showed precocious talent from an early age, one can only assume
that originally the drugs were used as a discrete way of heightening vision, and then gradually the creative flow
became inaccessible without the drug. Both artists created a style that relied heavily on elements of caricature and
distortion, classic by-products of alcohol, but then, so did Picasso<43> and he was not a drug user. Utrillo, also
an alcoholic, survived to a respectable sober age, but his art greatly diminished in quality. So it seems that if an
artist wishes to use drugs to enhance vision, he'd better be sure that his gift is extraordinary, with or without the
drug, or be prepared to die young, which is a great pity, because artists often have a creative flaring in their later
years, when sensual passions and social ambitions fade: Goya's<44> dark vision of titans and demons;
Rembrandt's<45> awakening to Christ consciousness; Turner's huge paintings of seas and cities dissolved in light;
Cezanne's discovery of sacred geometry in nature; Matisse's dancing shapes of pure colour - all these artists spent
much of their early career producing commissioned work for the court, the Church and society patrons. In their
later years they turned inward for inspiration, and painted the world beyond the physical world. As Paul Klee
wrote during his years teaching at the Bauhaus:
Presumptuous is the artist who does not follow his road through to the end. But chosen are those artists who
penetrate to the region of that secret place where primeval power nurtures all evolution. <46>

As Samuel Sagan frequently reminds his students: the first stage of enlightenment is intoxication. Intoxication is a
high function of consciousness - the inner intoxication that comes with cosmic consciousness from high levels of
astrality. (The funny thing is, as one becomes more discerning with the different frequencies of spirit, one can
identify them in terms not unlike a winetaster's: some connections are light and delicate, just like a Chardonnay,
others are fuller, with more body, like a red Burgundy, some have the richness of port, others the headiness of
Champagne.)

Compare the tone of the previous poems with the tone in William Blake's poem The Sick Rose:

O Rose, thou art sick!

The invisible worm

That flies in the night,

In the howling storm,

Has found out thy bed

Of crimson joy:

And his dark secret love

Does thy life destroy.

Blake has had many interpreters, and most readers find their own way of relating to his extraordinary visions, but
on a simple level this poem makes perfect sense if read as a straightforward description of an entity, since this is
exactly what entities feel like. The tone of the poem also captures the seemingly illogical nature of parasitic
infestation, although a series of ISIS will reveal the moment when the invitation was extended to the entity by the
host.

Once you get used to tuning into the spaces an artist is working from, it is very easy to decide whether the space
is astral, etheric or Spiritual. Astral spaces can be fascinating, exciting, arousing, intense and lots of fun. They can
also be highly refined, sensitive, clever and inventive. They can give a powerful vision. It is up to the individual to
decide how much truth there is in this vision, or more correctly, how much over-view there is in this vision.

Shakespeare used astral spaces to create his masterpieces, but the most consistent tone throughout his work is
despair born of disconnection, in the romances: "O, I am fortune's fool" (Romeo), as well as in the tragedies:

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded `time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player,

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

And then is heard no more: it is a tale

 Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing. (Macbeth)<47>

In the comedies he uses the irony of cynicism:

Shall we their fond pageant see?

Lord what fools these mortals be! (Midsummer Night's Dream)<48>

Compare the tone of Macbeth's words with the tone in one of the later sonnets of that great poet of agony and
ecstasy, Gerard Manley Hopkins:

Not, I'll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee

Not untwist - slack they may be - these last strands of man

In me or, most weary, cry I can no more. I can;

Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be...

There is, all through Hopkins' work an enormous struggle between his tormented astral body and his enlightened
spirit, no more evident than in his celebrated sonnet 'I Wake and feel the Fell of Dark':

I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.

What hours, O what black hours we have spent

This night! What sights you, heart, saw; ways you went!

And more must, in yet longer light's delay.

With witness I speak this. But where I say

Hours I mean years, mean life. And my lament

Is cries countless, cries like dead letters sent

To dearest him that lives, alas! away.

I am gall, I am heartburn. God's most deep decree

Bitter would have me taste: my taste was me;

Bones built in me, flesh filled, blood brimmed the curse.

Selfyeast of spirit a dull dough sours. I see

The lost are like this, and their scourge to be

As I am mine, their sweating selves; but worse.

No matter how black and desperate the astral spaces Hopkins visits, nor how severe he feels the separation from
his God, he carries with him an awareness of infinite mystery, and he places his trust in it. Thus his vision makes
sense of his suffering - bearing in mind that the particular Jesuit ideal that he embraced demanded of him a
rigorous discipline. The humility of his self-surrender to Divine will acts as a saving grace during times of
desolation, referred to by St John of the Cross as 'the dark night of the soul.'
Hopkins had a word which he coined for the underlying supra-natural principle that informs and sustains the
natural world: instress. From this he drew his powers of recovery:

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.

It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;

It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil

Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?

Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;

And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;

And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil

Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this nature is never spent;

There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;

And though the last lights off the black West went

Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs -

Because the Holy Ghost over the bent

World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

(God's Grandeur)

William Blake, who had a more serene temperament, believed quite simply that "Energy is eternal delight." In
Jerusalem he says "no individual can conform to rules, for they mean death to every energy of man and seal the
sources of life". The martyrdom that Hopkins endured would have seemed foreign to him:

Love seeketh not Itself to please,

Nor for itself hath any care,

But for another gives its ease,

And builds a heaven in Hell's despair.

The Clod and the Pebble.

According to Alexander Gilchrist, his biographer, Blake had his first vision as a child of "a tree filled with
angels". Blake agreed with the gnostic view that creation was the result of a fall from the state of Grace, and that
individual redemption occurred through the powers of imagination, or inspiration. In Blake's work, both the
poetry and the paintings, one can feel the tension between his vision and his art as he struggles to give form
through words and images to the unspeakable and the invisible.

He who bends to himself a joy

Does the winged life destroy;

But he who kisses the joy as it flies

 Lives in eternity's sunrise.

(Eternity)

If the artist is concerned with portraying the human psyche, then a sharp perception of astral spaces can yield a
rich harvest of penetrating psychological insight and unforgettable characters, for instance the brilliant comedy
series Seinfeld, a compelling look at a group of flawed characters living in New York. Or any film by Woody
Allan. Or much of twentieth century art, which has devoted itself to painstakingly cataloguing every conceivable
twist in the human psyche. Magritte, Max Ernst, Miro, Max Beckmann, Giacometti, Salvador Dali, Picasso,
Munch, each in his own style has mapped the astral landscape of passions, dreams, fears, desires, insecurities,
obsessions, vanities that paint the picture of contemporary man.

The serious art of this century is characterised by a preoccupation with re-defining our notions of reality, and in
the process, exploring layers of consciousness. Starting with Impressionism in the late nineteenth century, which
broke up solid matter into particles of light, moving through Post-Impressionism, Cubism, Fauvism,
Expressionism, Futurism, Surrealism, and a variety of Abstractionisms that culminated in the New York school of
Minimalism. The artists tended to experiment with a variety of styles so that in any one work will be found
echoes of other movements, and it's often difficult to categorise a painting by a complex artist like Picasso, for
instance, unless one is aware that several influences are at work in the one image.

Any work of art labelled Expressionistic would be exploring astral spaces, because in Expressionistic art, the
emphasis is always on the emotional, even within the context of the spiritual. For instance, the work of Van Gogh,
<49> a deeply religious man, has a burning intensity that suggests ecstasy without ever achieving the climax of
enlightenment. In artistic terms he is called post-impressionist, because he takes the technique or viewpoint of
Impressionism, and combines it with his own highly personal experience of the human condition. In alchemical
terms I would say that in his work he focuses too much on cosmic fire and not enough on cosmic water. There is a
sublime peace that comes with the balance of opposing principles that is absent from his work. Despite this, or
maybe because of it, his images of writhing trees and flaming skies, combined with the vulnerability of his
distress, and the tenderness born of his sincerity, make for a powerful vision of certain intense astral states.

The other great expressionistic post-impressionist, Gauguin<50>, sought another kind of heaven in the island of
Tahaiti. Some of his most beautiful and memorable pictures combine Christian symbols within the framework of a
pagan religion. The obsessive sensuality plays an interesting counterpoint to his abiding search for spiritual
insight, but he misses the elevated tone captured in the best of Hindu erotic art, probably because he chooses to
focus on his own voyeuristic delight in the female form, rather than a depiction of the act itself, in its cosmic
significance. (Although that in itself would not be enough to guarantee the visionary quality of his work, as a
million pornographic pictures will attest.) What Gauguin does succeed in depicting is a pre-personal paradise, the
time before humans became caught up in the astral layers, when we were one with the etheric of nature, and lived
in the bliss of permanent spiritual connections of the dreamtime. Bearing in mind that the Europe Gauguin lived in
was a Freudian casebook of sexual suppression and social hypocrisy, Tahaiti would have seemed like paradise.

However, much of the tension in his work derives from an arranged marriage between the intense astrality of his
own temperament and the sensuous and passionate etheric temperament of the Polynesian people, as if he himself
was inherently incapable of achieving more than a passing glimpse of the transcendent paradise his pictures
describe. In alchemical terms, I would say that the vision of Gauguin suffers from the imbalance of too much
cosmic water and not enough cosmic fire. He seems to be suggesting that we need to revert to pre-personal
enlightenment in order to regain our spiritual integrity, whereas it appears clear to us now, a hundred years later,
that we are evolving towards a new synthesis, combining space-age technology with a re-awakening of Spiritual
vision, and its attendant powers. The cultivation of clair vision is not modelled on the old clairvoyance, which
relied on the dream state as a gateway to spiritual connection. Because of our more developed astral component
we are in the waking state, and we make our invitation to the spirit through active, discerning consciousness.

Of the other two post-impressionists, Cezanne<51> and Seurat, the former began his career as an expressionist,
and then gradually moved away from subjective emotions to a direct experience of sacred geometry within matter.
His famous dictum: 'see in nature the cylinder, the sphere and the cone', was the aesthetic equivalent of a vision
of etheric archetypes, and became the basis for a revolution in Western art that has reverberated throughout the
twentieth century, from Cubism to abstraction.

In youth Cezanne was a boorish, unsociable man, with an unpleasant temper, and a fear of his overbearing father.
His early paintings were violent and expressionistic, reflecting the dark side of his astral body. In his maturity, he
learned to channel his defiance into a disciplined, painstaking search for the truth that produced a revolutionary
art. His obsessive nature prompted him to paint endless variations on a limited number of themes, slowly paring
the image to a masterful economy of tones and strokes.

His abstract treatment of volume and space led to a deliberate distortion of perspective that described the
dynamic relationships of objects to each other and to the surface of the canvas. He dispensed with the traditional
tonal method of chiaroscuro, and instead treated all shadows as solid shapes in themselves. This allowed for an
inventive use of warm and cool tones and created the famous 'flat-depth', which has been called 'one of the
miracles of art'. In this way he suggested depth within the picture and at the same time retained the integrity of
the flat canvas, cleverly suggesting illusion and reality at the same time. His thin, rich colours hold a translucency
of inner light within the careful compositions, always leading the viewer to 'the permanent qualities beneath the
accidents of appearance'.<52>

These three artists between them laid the groundwork for the two kinds of vision prevalent in twentieth century
Western art - the opening that comes from intense emotional experience, and the insight that is born of
detachment. On the negative side, it appears to me that as we draw close to the end of this century, we are too
often presented with works that are either heavy with emotion but lack insight, or works that are clever and
intellectual but lack feeling. There is an opening for a new impulse of vision in Western art, and it appears to me
that this vision will be the result of a cultivated transformation of consciousness in line with the Western spiritual
tradition.

FOURTEEN. VISION IN ART

It could be argued that spiritual art, from the paintings on pharaohs' tombs to the carvings on Easter Island, needs
to be experienced directly within the context of its own culture in order to be fully appreciated. However,
visionary works are energised in such a way that even after the cultures that produced them have long since
disappeared, the works themselves retain a certain power. This is the intrinsic magic of a great work of art, as
opposed to a piece of craft, no matter how skilful. An unskilled person is capable of producing a crude image of
startling power if it is made in the intensity of a visionary space. Conversely, a skilled artisan may produce works
of great beauty and intricacy, but the power and intensity of vision may be lacking. Combine the gift of vision
with the gift of the artist, and a timeless work of mystery and magic appears, to enthral any future generations
who may discover it.

There are many ways to depict a spiritual vision: a Buddhist Mandala, an Aborigine bark painting, a Russian Icon,
French Symbolist works, Egyptian tomb paintings, Stoneage magic cave paintings. A spiritual work may be
figurative or abstract. A work of art becomes spiritual when it moves beyond the decorative or representational, to
fulfil a specific function: the concentration of energies for the purpose of meditative dialectic with spiritual spaces
or beings. This intention on the part of the artist results in the creation of a style, flavoured both by the particular
epoch in which he lives, and his own temperament.

Such a stylised image is the result of condensation of the content. The content is compressed into a high degree of
density - this gives the image a potency: the power to draw the viewer in and the power to create a space for the
viewer to rest in. Visualised energies are concentrated into a visual nucleus that encompasses a whole tradition of
perception. That same style can be used decoratively, in designs that are not at all visionary, but make lovely
cushions all the same.

This is not to say that visionary art has to be of one particular flavour, but if I were asked to select works from
this century that most define the contemporary Western spiritual experience, it would be from the work of
abstract artists like Paul Klee, Wassily Kandinsky, Brancusi, Piet Mondrian, the Russian constructivists and the
later paintings of Matisse. All of these artists in divers ways confirmed the mystery of spiritual presence behind
the physical world, undergoing a rapid deconstruction in the light of radical discoveries in the areas of physics
and psychology. There is a quirkiness in 20th century art, derived not from the reliance on established adult
orthodoxy, but from the innocence of the trusting child in a confusing world. It's the space of the wandering soul
that prays for guidance and trusts its own intuition.

To be precise, the primary concern of the abstract artist is the structure of reality, whereas the surrealist is more
concerned with our perception of reality, and the expressionist focuses on our experience of reality. One can
acknowledge Soutine and Munch as supreme masters of anguish, but what one is looking for in visionary work
proper is the sublime balance of dark and light in the human experience that makes sense of the pain and re-
establishes connection with the Light - the magic alignment of two polartities, beyond logic, beyond emotion.
Some kind of visual equivalent of supra-consciousness. This can be achieved via figurative or humanistic images,
or through abstract geometric designs, or a mixture of both.

For instance, tuning into the work of Paul Klee,<53> all the qualities of the twentieth century visionary sensibility
are there. To view his work is to wander into an uncorrupted, primal dreamscape full of strange beasties and
beings, mysterious energies and intelligences - the seemingly irrational forms of creative imagination held together
by a disciplined, orderly mind. He has been linked to both expressionism and surrealism, he drew inspiration from
oriental art, folk art, children's paintings, Egyptian art. He was a philosopher, teacher, poet and musician. He used
his teaching post at the Bauhaus until his dismissal by the Nazis, to develop a theory of art based on the spiritual
connection of human creative genius as a reflection of the cosmic impulse of creation: The deeper he looks, the
more readily he can extend his view from the present to the past, the more deeply he is impressed by the one
essential image of creation itself, as Genesis, rather than by the image of nature, the finished product.<54>

Klee believed children's drawings were superior to his because they 'had not been trickled through the brain'.
Because of their pictorial simplicity, his paintings appear like children's, but the sophisticated and radiant colour
harmonies indicate his desire to 'orchestrate' his paintings, and the simplified forms indicate a carefully arranged
formal structure.

There is, throughout his work, an intensity of vision that defies categorisation. There are echoes of cubism;
evidence of his fascination with the colour experiments of French painter Delauny; Egyptian hieroglyphs; oriental
art - but beyond all this a sense of improvisation, where the child's fertile creative space is explored for the
pleasure of it, and random shapes appear, chance colour schemes. Then at some point the master takes over, and
out of the fertile chaos a theme is pulled, a balance is achieved, much like a person reviewing his life at the point
of death and making sense of the confusion and seemingly random detours.

All the elements of expressionism, surrealism, naivety, psychological archetypes, primitivism, are all given their
voice in glorious polyphony, but at the grand finale create a perfectly balanced complex of counterpoint and
syncopation. His themes range from whimsical flights of fancy to a more serious examination of man's community
with all created things. The single voice that unifies Klee's work is his clear- minded. open-hearted spirit, with its
cultivated child-like innocence, and the cultured sophistication of the philosopher/artist

The verbal/visual puns of his titles say it all: Forsaken Garden; Silver Moon-Mould Blossom; Demons at the
Entrance; Whose Fault Is It?; The Snake-Goddess and her Enemy; Taking a line for a Walk; Fish Magic; Death
and Fire; The Twittering Machine; Full Moon; Play On The Water; With The Eagle; Monument in a Fertile
Country; Fire in the Evening. Janson refers to his work as the 'high art of cartooning', but this is to undervalue the
intensity of Klee's spiritual connection with the mysteries of the cosmic creative intelligence.

Another artist who worked from a space of high connection was the sculptor Constantin Brancusi. To view his
masterpiece Endless Column<55>, a monument to Romanian soldiers who died fighting the Germans during the
first World War, is to look directly into the column of Spirit with its lattice-work of interlocking diamond forms
housing the highest centres for travelling and connection to Spirit worlds. Brancusi compared it to "a stairway to
heaven" and elsewhere to "That cosmic pillar which supports the sky and makes communication possible between
the heavens and the earth".<56> Drawn to mysticism and the writings of 11th century initiate Milarepa, he began
an abstract sculptural tradition that has continued throughout the twentieth century, although the intensity and
presence of his work has rarely been equalled. He used essential forms to suggest the opposing sides of energy, as
for instance the egg shapes (potential energy) to which he gave such titles as 'The Beginning of the World'; and
the Bird In Space series, suggesting kinetic energy. In his series titled 'The Kiss', he managed, with an absolute
minimum of chiselled surfaces to contain the tangle and balance of male and female energies within the dense,
square form.

To compare the works of Brancusi with the work of Henry Moore, a sculptor much influenced by Brancusi, is to
move from transpersonal enlightenment to prepersonal enlightenment. Moore reinvented the language of
shamanism with his elegant Mother and Child series, where the emphasis is on the profound etheric connection of
the female with the earth energies, and the growing child within the nurturing mother. Gigantic, serpentine,
female shapes with womb-like cavities through which nature can be seen, describe a transcendent, blissful state of
oneness with the prima materia and the created universe.

Just as a contrast, during the second World War Moore was commissioned by the government to make drawings
of London during the Blitz, and his drawings of people huddled for shelter in The Tube look so like the vortex of
the third eye, or indeed, the vortices of the space generally, that it appears as if the emotional atmosphere of the
war induced an astral component into his work that would otherwise not have been obvious.

Without using traditional occult or religious symbolism, abstract artists such as Klee, Kandinsky, Brancusi, Moore,
succeed in creating images that capture the individualism so beloved of this epoch, and at the same time hold the
viewer in an out-of body, out-of-mind state of consciousness, full of mystery and portent. Our generation no
longer feels comfortable accepting standardised images of the Divine, and yet, no matter how thoroughly we
deconstruct our cherished notions of solid reality, at some point we find ourselves back contemplating the circle,
experiencing the crystal; searching patiently for the 'bindu', The Word, the first principle, the self-originated seed
of Being, the pool of consciousness which all consciousness draws from, the point of both dissolution and
creation.

There is a word in Hindu for which there is no exact English equivalent - yantra. A yantra is the visual equivalent
of a mantra - both are a means of accessing and harnessing energies, one with sound, the other with image. A
yantra is a geometric design to be understood not as an abstract pattern, but as the representation of certain
cosmic principles. Indeed, looked at with the third eye, the interlocking triangles, concentric circles, tongues of
fire, open squares, serpents of energy, are so precisely what can be seen or experienced in meditation in the subtle
structures, that yantras seem to me now to be fairly realistic. I can no longer regard them as conceptual
abstractions, having experienced them directly in meditation as living structures in my energy.<57>

Genuine vision relieves abstraction of the burden of relevance which has in recent times plagued non-objective
art. Much contemporary western art seems to use non-figurative forms to create analytical hypotheses based on
mental constructions. Sophistocated intellectualising is no substitute for the immediacy of vision, It is the
empowering of an image with the energy of direct vision that classifies it as art rather than something else.

The pioneers of Western abstract art, Kandinsky, Mondrian, the constructivists et al, stripped their art of objective
references because they believed that the flavour of the absolute is captured more directly in a generic abstract
form rather than the specific variation based on it. They were rebelling against, first of all, realism, representing
the hated materialism, and secondly, expressionism, representing vulgar emotionalism.

Kandinsky wrote bitterly of the art of his time: 'Connoisseurs admire "technique", as one might admire a tight-
rope walker, or enjoy the "painting quality", as one might enjoy a cake. But hungry souls go hungry away.'<58> I
have a feeling he might make a similar observation if he were to take a stroll around the average contemporary art
show: He believed strongly that artists must struggle to find a language that speaks directly to their
contemporaries, and he had a clear understanding of the direction art would take when artists moved through the
personal stage to the transpersonal:'...the soul is emerging, refined by struggle and suffering. Cruder emotions, like
fear, joy and grief, which belonged to this time of trial, will no longer attract the artist. He will attempt to arouse
more refined emotions as yet unnamed.'<59> Kandinsky was influenced by the teachings of Rudolph Steiner, and
he quoted Schumann in his discussion of the moral imperative within the artist's soul: 'To send light into the
darkness of men's hearts - such is the obligation of the artist.'<60>

The spiritual tradition in the west has been dominated up until the era of Post-Impressionism by church patronage,
which has lead to endless variations on acceptable orthodox subjects, and prompted Kandinsky's dismissal of "a
"Crucifixion" by a painter who does not believe in Christ." Raphael's<61> paintings of the Madonna may be
technically superb, rich with lyricism, conceptually innovative and dramatic, (described by one writer as "a
celestial vision of surpassing loveliness") but even so they are still on the level of the tight-rope walker. If the
artist's intention is intellectual or decorative, then he will produce an intellectual or a decorative painting, no
matter what the subject.

El Greco<62>, on the other hand, took hackneyed religious subjects like "The Ascension" and turned them into
masterpieces of spiritual ecstasy. For that matter, is Leonardo's painting of the Mona Lisa less mysterious, less
metaphysical, than his painting of the Virgin and St Anne, or his painting of The Last Supper? An acceptable 'holy
subject' will not necessarily be spiritual if the intensity of belief is not present, if the work is not imbued with the
energy of personal experience. Similarly a secular subject, such as a bowl of fruit or a vase of flowers or a simple
portrait, may become a powerful statement of spiritual intensity in the hands of a visionary artist.

I remember, as a teenager, listening to Desiderius Orban<63> at his school in Sydney speaking of art as a mystical
experience. He had the habit of instructing his students to gaze long at the model (in this case, me) and then to sit
with eyes closed and meditate on the essence of their vision. After some time he would instruct them to begin
painting without further reference to the model and permit the flow of inspiration to direct their work. The work
was completed when the artist, looking at his canvas, experienced a moment of recognition. "A true work of art,
he maintained, was distinguished by a quality that could be recognised but not described. This quality he called
'spirituality'."<64>

Ironically, the richest spiritual tradition in Australian art is also the oldest - the Aborigine tradition of painting the
Dreaming. The Dreaming is a complex metaphor that works on many levels: first of all it refers to an Aborigine
version of Genesis, the creative epoch that produced the cosmos and everything in it, the heavens, the earth, and
all living things. Secondly, it refers to the specific place an individual's Spirit arrived on earth, and the journey
that Spirit is destined to follow. Thirdly, it refers to the existence of a social order within a tribe, and the link
between a tribe and the guardian ancestors. When an artist paints his or her Dreaming, there is a rich visual
vocabulary to choose from, allowing for the painting to be intensely personal, but at the same time instantly
recognisable within the sacred imagery of myths and rituals.

One of the most fascinating aspects of the Aborigine Dreamtime paintings is the consistent use of ariel
perspective, suggesting the point of view of astral travelling. This creates a deep space between the viewer and
the image and allows for a sense of time to be introduced (as in a prophecy or an archival memory). Since the
image often depicts a journey, or an initiation, the ariel perspective, through distancing, lends the qualities of
movement and time to what are essentially flat forms. Ritual chanting or deep meditation often accompany the
progress of the work, and the best works produced from this tradition are utterly compelling in their visionary
power.<65>

When technical mastery is combined with direct vision, a third mysterious element is created: presence. I would
define presence in a work of art as not only the power which derives from the artist's skill, but the presence of his
state of mind, extending as a tangible field of energy from the painting into the space it occupies. This effect may
be achieved both through abstract and figurative images - Blake used traditional figurative myths but reinvented
them in the telling through his own mystical insight; Egyptian tomb painters created detailed scenes of after-life
journeys with simplified but powerful stylised forms and voodoo artists create stylised, terrifying masks of
demons for the same reason medieval stonemasons carved gargoyles at a certain height on Gothic cathedrals. An
abstract artist like Kandinsky, in paintings such as Dominant Curve<66> or Layers,<67> is able to create high
astral spaces with abstract, archetypal forms of his own invention.

'Each period of culture produces an art of its own which cannot be repeated. Efforts to revive the art principles of
the past at best produce works of art that resemble a stillborn child.'<68> wrote Kandinsky in 1912, in defence of
the new abstract art of the early twentieth century. It seems to me that in the latter part of the twentieth century,
many serious artists are still rehashing the preoccupations of analytical cubism, De Stil and minimalism, which
properly belong to another era, whereas the challenge of reinterpreting the myths and symbols of the Western
spiritual tradition in the face of the disintegration of established religions, has been left to illustrators and
inspirational, 'new-age' decorators. It may be because it is currently unfashionable for artists to embrace a
traditional spiritual quest, but more acceptable to affect existential alienation from God and man; or it may simply
be that artists genuinely feel the tradition itself is spiritually bankrupt and beyond resuscitation.
However, it should be noted that the tantric tradition is alive and well in India, after millennia of interpretation, in
the work of artists such as G.R.Santosh, P.T.Reddy, O.M.Prakash and Biren De. Loosely referred to as 'Neo-
Tantra' in various exhibitions<69>, this art reflects the way many Indians are changing to adapt to a contemporary,
global culture, without losing their cultural and spiritual heritage. The symbolism of their forms, while painted in
a way that suggests European abstractionism, is steeped in the ancient tantric language of inner alchemy. This may
perhaps point the way for those western artists who find their spiritual selves trapped in an intellectual dead-end
<70>.

. I will leave the last word to John Donne<71>, an Elizabethan poet who lived in a time closer to ours in
temperament than more recent centuries. His was an age characterised by scepticism, scientific discovery, and an
uninhibited gratification of the senses. Throughout his 'divine poems' one can feel the palpable tension as his
considerable intellect wrestles with the passion of his spiritual hunger. The irony, the wit, and the clever use of
paradox all argue against the essence of the spiritual experience he craved, which is beyond the rational mind. In
this sonnet, emotion and intellect are balanced in a sensual image which, oddly, unexpectedly, perfectly describes
the penetration of an earth-bound soul by cosmic fire:

Batter my heart three-personed God; for, you

As yet but knock, breath, shine, and seek to mend;

That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend

Your force, to break, blow, burn and make me new.

I, like an usurpt town, to another due,

Labour to admit you, but O, to no end,

Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,

But is captived, and proves weak, or untrue.

Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,

But am betrothed unto your enemie:

Divorce me, untie or break that knot again,

Take me to you, imprison me, for I

Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,

Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

FIFTEEN CULTIVATING VISION

Exercise 1
Awakening the Third Eye. This exercise is described and explained in great detail in chapter three of Awakening
the Third Eye, by Samuel Sagan.

(1) Use the vibration of the Larynx during friction breathing to connect with the Eye, and then gradually explore
the different spaces of your Eye.

(2) You can be in the Eye with your physical eyes closed, in which case you will explore your inner spaces.
(3) You can be in the Eye with your physical eyes open, in which case you will see the physical world differently:
meaning your senses will pick up physical information differently. You can feel intoxicated just by being in the
Eye. You can feel 'stoned' just by being in the eye. Being in the Eye alters your state of being, it is another kind of
consciousness.

(4) You can rest in the Eye in moments of distress, in stressful situations, in times of confusion. It is a haven of
peace and calm. It is your Eye of the storm. If you find yourself caught up in the midst of conflict, you can be in it
but not of it. You can use the Eye to deflect or reflect hostile energies.

Exercise 2:
Clear Mode is a simple technique for the cultivation of heightened awareness:

(1) Pick an activity, decide that that activity will be the one in which you are automatically in the clarity of the
eye. Do this consistently for a week.

(2) Note the changes in your energy when you are in the eye, as opposed to when you are not in the eye. How
does the world look to you? How do you react to people? situations? What brings you out of the eye?

(3) Add a few more activities to your clear mode practise, until a large part of the day is spent automatically in the
eye.

(4) Notice which situations or activities automatically pull you out of the eye into emotional or mental states.
These are your key to the major samskaras holding you in negative behavioural patterns. Use the eye to penetrate
these spots with consciousness.

When you have a clear awareness of what it means to be in the eye, how it affects your perception of the world,
of yourself, then apply this understanding to your work:

(1) make sure you are in the eye before you begin to work.

(2) take frequent breaks to re-establish connection with the space during the work.

(3) be aware that you are in the space of the connection, and that the connection is working directly through you.

(4) be sure that the connection is with pure verticality, the highest part of yourself.

(5) if you feel physically fatigued, do a night practise.

(6) if you feel etherically polluted, practise etheric excretion, if you feel etherically drained go for a walk and
absorb earth energies, or have a swim or a shower.

(7) if you feel the astral is blocked, do an ISIS.

(8) be vigilant that your connection is with the Spirit.

Exercise 3:
Separation of the subtle bodies from the physical. This is a lying-down practice, referred to as 'Night Practice', to
be performed every time you want to have a rest or go to sleep. It promotes a conscious awareness of the actual
moment of separation when the physical vehicle is left behind, and the consciousness takes a trip.

Cultivating awareness of the layers of consciousness leads to a direct experience of the body of energy, and to the
development of vision.
Essentially Night Practice is about refining the consciousness through experiencing the subtle bodies as separate
entities. It is also the beginning of astral travelling and 'lucid dreaming'. If you use the night practice technique in
conjunction with music, tuning into the sounds will take you to certain spaces.

There are a variety of Night Practice tapes available from the Clairvision School. You can use them in different
ways, according to which structures and spaces you wish to explore, and according to whether you wish to use
the practice for recovery, vision or travelling.

Exercise 4;
Threshold Consciousness. There are certain crucial shifts in energy fields that provide an opportunity for
heightening awareness. Sunrise and sunset are classic times; also changes in the moon cycle; the summer and
winter solstices; certain powerful conjunctions; and the precious moments of falling asleep and awakening.

An adapted version of night practice should be used consistently when dropping off to sleep, in the sense of
taking off, and waking in the morning, as in landing. There is a razor's edge between waking consciousness and
sleeping consciousness, which is neither waking nor sleeping and it is possible to feel the click as you pass across
it. Retaining consciousness while in the sleeping or dreaming layers may be gradually cultivated as an act of will.

Upon awakening it is advised to stay in the eye and remain motionless for a short while, so as to recover astral
memories of travelling during the night.

You can also combine Clear Mode with Threshold Consciousness, simply by being aware every time you pass
through a doorway.

Exercise 5:
Sacred Geometry. There are many ways of using archetypal shapes to intensify meditation experiences. You can
use eye contact with a physical picture, such as a yantra, or a Tarot symbol, and let the image work its magic on
your energy, or you can go into the space with eyes closed, and direct your consciousness into the layers where
the archetypes are stored. A classic example is the use of three ascending triangles during night practice, to assist
with a smooth transition from the physical to the astral. A geometric shape can be used in the astral as a signature,
so that if you meet a guardian at a threshold, you can gain access to a space - providing your shape is acceptable
of course.

There are many mysteries associated with sacred geometry, in accordance with ancient rituals for the summoning
of certain powers. A simple practise of meditating regularly on these geometric forms will reveal many unexpected
secrets in the space.

Exercise 6:
Walking. Sri Aurobindo was a great fan of walking, so are the people of Tibet. Walking can be as much a moving
meditation as Tai Chi, if one walks with awareness. It is a perfect opportunity for practising techniques of the eye,
at the same time there is a loosening of the astral body from the physical/etheric, which is why one feels so
relaxed after a walk.

Because the physical body is still going through the physical motions of walking, and a certain amount of
alertness is needed so that one doesn't fall down a hole, one is able to cultivate an active separation of the astral
from the physical, without losing physical consciousness, and gauge exactly how present one is at all times.

Exercise 7:
Sounds may be used to enhance third eye awareness, particularly birdcalls, which are like an ancient, beautiful
language that we once understood, and also wind music and water music. Certain traffic sounds, especially if
heard in the distance, have an effect on the astral.

Some composers can lift one to very high creative spaces. Many artists take advantage of this and listen to music
while they are working. However, if, like me, you are one of those people who sees sounds, then listening to
music can be very distracting and interfere with the creative process.

The human voice has the power to move energy and create spaces, not only chanting and singing, but also
speaking. Working on the voice can change a person's entire energy.

Also. if you are ever contemplating a business or personal relationship, make use of the telephone. The telephone
is an amplifier of astral frequencies, and any falseness in a person's voice is immediately amplified; so also is the
heart quality. It is always very easy to ascertain the space a person is speaking from on the telephone.

All kinds of sounds and music may be used during meditation to create spaces and facilitate connections.

Exercise 8:
Earth energies. There is everything to be gained from cultivating sensitivity to earth energies. Simply tuning in to
our connection with the earth via the lower chakras can be grounding and strengthening. There is much
information and practical work on earth lines, ley-lines and dowsing.

Trees are living beings, full of knowledge, and can act as conduits between us and the earth. Sitting in communion
with trees is powerful and emotionally soothing. Trees are capable of absorbing our emotions, they find such
complex energies interesting, so be generous with your grief, your anger and your despair.

Our physical consciousness rests on our experience of gravity in matter, and the earth is the largest container of
physical consciousness that we have direct access to; tuning into it is like tuning into the deepest layers of our
subconscious. It is also an interesting exercise to try and distinguish the intelligence of the earth being itself, as
distinct from all the elemental and astral beings which inhabit it.

Exercise 9:
Water energies epitomise the etheric; the female; primordial waters; maternity; cleansing. Just the sound of water
can take me deep into the space.

I believe one could base one's entire meditation practice around water if one wanted to, starting with breathing
techniques under the water, and climaxing with the enlightenment of walking on it.

Exercise 10:
Star energies have a potent awakening effect on both the astral and the Ego. Tuning into stars before going to
sleep is a time-honoured way to assure good travelling. As well, drinking in the energies of the stars can feel as if
one is touching the sphere of very advanced beings. Different stars have distinctly different energies, just as they
have different colours. Different people are drawn to particular stars, and can rest on this energy in difficult times.

Exercise 11:
The Moon cycle: tuning into the energies of the waxing and waning moon offer immediate openings during
practises of self-transformation. Alchemically, the Moon (representative of the principle of cosmic water) is a
reflection of the Sun (representative of the principle of cosmic fire) in the physical/etheric layer, so the power of
the moon is all about manifestation. The waning moon is the time for clearing all kinds of negative beliefs from
the mental/emotional layer, and the limiting characters that have crystallised around them during one's lifetime -
one can waste one's whole lifetime living in a character that is merely the product of childhood conditioning. Such
conditioning may have been discarded on an intellectual level, but it lives on in prejudices, emotions, and
irrational attachments. The waxing moon is the time for making permanent connections with high states of
consciousness, and for the welcoming of powerful energies into your life. Quite often a goal set with clarity and
decisiveness in the first part of the cycle, will come to fruition in the second.

The time of the new moon is a time to be protective of one's energy as there is a shift happening and an instability
in the space. The time of the full moon often gives an opening of vision, as the space is expanded and access is
easy. Some people are very uncomfortable at the time of the full moon, and avoid all forms of social intercourse,
as they feel unable to protect their energy. Other people revel in the feeling of vast etheric expansion, and rest
comfortably in the moon's fullness, enjoying the expanded vision that it brings.

Exercise 12:
Relationships: stay in the eye during all kinds of interactions with different people, so that you are able to see the
interactions as tangible flows of energy, and understand how they affect you. It is always a great relief to realise
that much of your emotional turmoil is not yours at all, but an energy you have picked up from your loved ones.
You then have the chance to 'avoid certain loud and aggressive persons', as Max Ehrmann suggests in Desiderata,
or if you are feeling centred, you could try radiating the light of the Spirit from the atom of the heart chakra, as it
has a calming effect on those around you.

Intense sexual experiences have a major awakening effect on the etheric, so long as the heart chakra remains open.
It's my observation that if the heart chakra is closed during sexual exchanges, both the etheric and the astral
bodies are damaged.

Exercise 13:
The heart connection. Visionary art always has a strong heart flavour. There are many ways to work on opening
the heart chakra, but essentially, every time we interrelate we are given an opportunity to open the heart. The
space of the heart is all-embracing and non-judgemental. From this space we can radiate the Spirit through the
most refined layers of the etheric.

It is not uncommon to advance spiritually without developing the heart chakra, but there is an essential human
quality of earthy warmth and good humour in an open heart that is noticeable when absent.

Exercise 14:
The power of Prayer. It is not difficult to pray: just become like a child - innocent, helpless and trusting.

Spiritual beings are eager to make a connection with us, so there is no need for us to go through life feeling alone
and abandoned. All that is required is an opening, but we learn in childhood that it is dangerous to be open, so we
close off, developing an inferior samskaric armour that lets only a small amount of light in or out. When
eventually we reconnect with the Light, we are clothed in an infinitely more powerful armour, and the more open
we are, the more Light we can hold, and the more Light we can radiate. However, there is that crucial naked
moment when we drop the samskaric layer in order to open to the Light, without having any protection at all.
This step from the darkness to the Light is like walking over a precipice, and the fear holds us like a
straightjacket. So basically, opening to the Light is an act of trust, which is very difficult for adults to achieve.

In this approach, we begin with a cultivation of the third eye techniques, which can be used as a basis for
developing vision.

I wish you good practice.

Copyright (c) Janis Lander 1996

This confers International Copyright under the Universal Copyright Convention. All rights reserved. Apart from
any fair dealing for the purpose of review or research, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part of this book
may be reproduced by any process without written permission.

Appendix 1.
Artists, authors and film makers referred to in the text.

Woody Allan

W.H.Auden

Max Beckmann

Beethoven

William Blake

Constantin Brancusi

Pieter Bruegel

Paul Cezanne

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Salvador Dali

Leonardo Da Vinci

Birren De

Robert Delaunay

El Greco

Max Ernst

William Faulkner

Paul Gauguin

Alberto Giacometti

Francisco Goya

Robert Graves

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Paul Klee

Wassily Kandinsky

Magritte
Henri Matisse

Michaelangelo

Milarepa

Amadeo Modigliani

Piet Mondrian

Claude Monet

Edvard Munch

Henry Moore

Freidrich Nietzsche

Pablo Picasso

O.M.Prakash

Pythagoras

Raphael

P.T.Reddy

Rembrandt

Sogyal Rinpoche

Samuel Sagan

G.R.Santosh

Satprem

Jerry Seinfeld

Georges Seurat

Shakespeare

Chaim Soutine

Sri Aurobindo

Stephen Spender

Rudolf Steiner

The Mother

Dylan Thomas

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec
Dylan Thomas

J.M.W.Turner

Maurice Utrillo

Vincent Van Gogh

Fred Williams

Tom Wolf

Paramanhansa Yoganandra

Appendix 2.
Source material for further reading.

Alchemy.

Anthroposophy

Astrology

Art Nouveau

Australian Aborigine Art

Celtic Mythology

Cosmology

Egyptian Art

Greek Mythology

Icons

Kabbalah and The Tree of Life.

Post-Impressionism

Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood

Mandalas

North American Native Art

Occult Symbolism

Russian Constructivism

Sand Paintings

Tantric Art
Theosophy

The Tarot

Yantras

Note about the Author.

Janis Lander is an artist and writer. She completed a Bachelor of Arts degree from Sydney University, majoring in
Fine Arts and Literature; and a Dip.Art from Julian Ashton Art School.

From 1975-1982 she lived and worked in California, collaborating on various screenplays. At the same time she
continued to explore different styles of painting.

Since 1982 she has lived in Sydney. Her work is clearly inspired by the natural surroundings of Parsley Bay,
where she lives. Through her paintings we also see a reflection of her deep interest in trees and earth energies.

She has executed many private commissions and portraits, and exhibited in many regional shows. As well, she
has designed posters and record covers.

She is represented in private collections in Australia and overseas, including Germany, France and U.S.A..

EXHIBITIONS
1996 Solo Show - Eaglehawk Galleries, Sydney.

Solo Show - Clairvision School.

1995 Group Show - Gallery Gaia, Paddington

Group Show - ZEST, Sydney University

1994 Group Show - Graphis Galleries, Woollahra

1993 Group Show - Brandling St Painters Group

1992 Group Show - The Wall Gallery, Paddington.

1991 Solo Show - The Cove Gallery, Circular Quay

Group Show - Incursions Co-operative '91

Group Show - The Wall Gallery, Paddington.

1990 Group Show - S.H.Ervin Gallery

Group Show - The Rocks Gallery.

Solo Show - Goodday Caf, Circular Quay.

1988 Group Show - Kelly St Kolective, Ultimo

1987 Group Show - Holdsworth Galleries, Woollahra

Published Books: Vision And Art (a presentation of the tradition and a discussion of current trends.) Published
as an electronic book on The Internet, July1996 : web site http://clairvision.org/
Books in progress: Between Lives An illustrated story for children.

Titus And Boyd. An illustrated story for children

Virtual Art Gallery On The Internet- Paintings of the Subtle Bodies

Web Site; http//clairvision.org/ 1996

Janis Lander is an accredited member of the Clairvision Practitioners Network, and conducts both private sessions
and practical workshops in vision and creativity.

Endnotes
1 Chapter 13 addresses the question of a definition of visionary art, and offers a discussion of the tradition of
spiritual art and current and future directions.

2 The Clairvision School is a western school of esotericism designed to train people to a high degree of self-
transformation, spiritual development and esoteric knowledge. The school offers long-term weekly courses as
well as intensive residential courses designed for interstate and overseas students. For information write to PO
Box 33, Roseville NSW 2069, Australia.

3 Sagan, Samuel: Awakening the Third Eye, Clairvision School Press 1990

4 There are many references in the rituals of indigenous peoples to astral travelling, for instance Australian
aborigines, American Indians. There is a wonderful scene in the film Little Big Man ( C.B.S. Fox 1970) where the
old Indian chief decides he has witnessed one massacre too many and his time has come to depart this world. So
he goes up on a hill and lies down to give up his Spirit, but much to his irritation, his Spirit will not leave; his
people have lost the ability to die at will. Samuel Sagan says that this ability was commonplace to the people of
Atlantis, and that gradually as humans have evolved, the relationship of the subtle bodies to the physical body has
altered.

5 The Temple Legend, Rudolf Steiner, lecture 2

6 Of course there are also people who have artistic vision but choose not to develop it. The French have a word
for this: artist manqu

7 Wolf Columbia Pictures 1994

8 According to Steiner, Nietzche received the dark force of Ahriman full intensity. His unstable nature would
have made it difficult for him to assess such a vision, in the way that all Spiritual leaders have to deal with visions
of hell as well as of heaven. Even Jesus was tempted by the dark forces: Matthew 4:1; Luke 4:1

9 Gerard Manley Hopkins 1844-1889

10 Various techniques of purification and protection are described in chapter V111 and chapter XVII of
Awakening the Third Eye by Samuel Sagan. See especially XVII.11 and XVII.12

11 For detailed information about entities read Entities Parasites of the Body of Energy, by Samuel Sagan,
Clairvision School Foundation, 1994

12 The myth of Er, at the end of the last book of The Republic.

13 Sagan, Samuel, Entities, Parasites of the Body of Energy, Clairvision, Sydney 1994 This book via case
histories, describes the process of first seeing an entity, understanding its influences and then having it cleared.
14 The term 'darkness visible' is a Masonic term, referred to in their rituals. I am using it here in the sense in
which it is used in Atlantean Secrets by Samuel Sagan. In this epic novel the phrase 'darkness visible' (apart from
being a pun of sorts) serves as a literal description of the space of the eye, used in the story for communication,
for vision and for travelling.

15 Samuel Taylor Coleridge 1772-1834

16 William Turner 1775-1851.

17 William Blake 1757-1827.

18 Stephen Spender 1909-

19 Steiner, Rudolf, The Balance in the World and Man, Lucifer and Ahrihman, p.15. In a series of lectures given
in November 1914 Steiner says:'...in their rightfully allotted place, Lucifer and Ahriman work beneficially; in their
wrongful place - there they are injurious.'

20 Psalm 22, Knox translation: 'dark be the valley about my path'.

21 Matthew 6:22 Knox translation. See also Luke 11:34,35 " If thy eye is clear the whole of thy body will be lit
up; when it is diseased, the whole of thy body will be in darkness. Take good care then that this principle if light
which is in thee is light, not darkness..."

22 Sagan, Samuel, Cairvision School Foundation, Sydney, 1996, Atlantean Secrets. This is a four-volume epic
describing among other things, energy practices in Atlantis.

23 The paradox of the third eye is that when you are moving into it feels like you are moving into or through a
tunnel, but when you are in it, it feels like being in a vast space. See Awakening the Third Eye III.10 for a more
detailed explanation.

24 See Regression, Past-Life Therapy for Here and Now Freedom, by Samuel Sagan, Clairvision School
Foundation for a description of the process.

25 Fred Williams 1927-1982

26 See: Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yoganandra, Self-Realisation Fellowship, this edition 1993; The
Adventure of Consciousness by Satprem, Sri Aurobindo Ashram Trust 19<68>.

27 Oonagh Sherrard.

28 Constantin Brancusi (1876-1957) Romanian sculptor. See Varia R: Brancusi, Universe Publishing 1995.

29 The Apuan Alps was a place Michaelangelo returned to several times to excavate blocks of marble. The
solitude and wildness of the place appealed to his creative imagination as much as the high-grade marble from
the quarries (see The Life and Times of Michaelangelo pub. Paul Hamlyn, p.23.) H.W.Janson in A History of Art,
p.358 wrote: 'As he conceived his statues to be bodies released from their marble prison, so the body was the
earthly prison of the soul - noble, surely, but a prison nevertheless. This dualism of body and spirit endows his
figures with their extraordinary pathos; outwardly calm, they seem stirred by an overwhelming psychic energy
that has no release in physical action.'

30 William Faulkner 1897-1962. He won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1949.

31 Gerard Manley Hopkins: Poems and Prose. Ed. W.H.Gardner

32 Shawshank Redemption (Castlerock 1995)

33 Henri Matisse 1869-1954.

34 Claud Monet 1840-1926.

35 The Mother 1878-1973. Born in Paris, she came to stay with Sri Aurobindo (1872-1950) in Pondicherry in
1920. She took charge of the ashram at Pondicherry until her death.

36 Satprem, Sri Aurobindo or The Adventure of Consciousness, translated from the French by Tehmi, p.87. Sri
Aurobindo Ashram Trust. 1968

37 Pieter Bruegel the Elder 1525/30-1569

38 W.H.Auden 1907-1973

39 Dylan Thomas 1914-1953, Welsh-born poet, playwright, novelist.

40 This story is quoted in Awakening the Third Eye p.193. The Catholic Church had a strict teaching on the
subject when I was a child: if you died in a state of Grace you went to Heaven; if you died in a state of mortal sin
you went to hell; everybody else spent time in purgatory. Eastern spiritual practices are more scientific in their
approach: in The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, Sogyal Rinpoche describes an incident he witnessed as a
child when a monk, Lama Tseten, lay dying, and his master Jamyang Khyentse reached his bedside about ten
minutes too late, the monk had passed on. Whereupon the Master sat down beside the bed and brought the monk
back into his body so that he could take him out again the right way. Thus the monk was able to effect a smooth
transition at the time o death. Sogyal Rinpoche describes this incident as a 'display of spiritual mastery' pp 6-7.

41 Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec 1864-1901

42 Amedeo Modigliani 1884-1920 There are numerous stories of Modigliani's working habits: 'Lunia Czechowska
noted that he worked best in a rage stoked by cheap brandy or rough red wine'; and Jacques Lipchitz recalled that
when he commissioned Modigliani to paint his portrait he was told "My price is ten francs a sitting and a little
alcohol." (The Great Artists, pp.2411;2412. Marshall Cavendish Ltd.)

43 Pablo Picasso 1881-1970

44 Francisco Goya 1746-1828

45 Rembrandt 1606-1669

46 Klee, Paul, On Modern Art, Faber Editions, 1966, p 49

47 Shakespeare Macbeth Act V sc.5

48 A Midsummer Night's Dream, Act III sc.2

49 Vincent Van Gogh 1853-1890

50 Paul Gauguin 1848-1903

51 Paul Czanne 1839-1906

52.Janson, H.W, A History Of Art.Thames and Hudson, p. 505

53 Paul Klee 1879-1940

54 Klee, Paul, On Modern Art, p.45

55 The Endless Column, 1937-38, cast iron covered in golden bronze, Tirgu Jin, Romania.

56 Chave, Anna C. Constantin Brancusi, p.251

57 Rawson, Phillip: The Art Of Tantra, Thames and Hudson, reprinted 1982. This book gives a thorough overview
of Hindu Tantric art, and the direct spiritual experience it depicts.

58 Kandinsky, Wassily, Concerning the Spiritual in Art, The Documents of Modern Art, George Wittenborn, inc.,
New York, 1947, p.25

59 Ibid, p.24

60 Ibid, p.25

61 Raphael 1483-1520

62 El Greco, 1541-1614

63 Desiderius Orban, 1884-1986. Born in Hungary, he visited Paris as a young man, and met Picasso, Matisse
and a circle of radical artists at the studio of Gertrude Stein. When he migrated to Sydney in 1939, he had a
strong influence on many of the young artists he met and/or taught. In his work he drew from many sources -
Theosophical, Hebrew, Christian, and later, Zen.

64 Crumlin, Rosemary: Images of Religion in Australian Art, Bay Books 1988, p.96.

65 There is a wealth of information available on the Aborigine art tradition and literally hundreds of artists
represented by various galleries throughout the country. As well all the major galleries have permanent collections
of Aborigine artists. The interested reader is directed to: Wurum, Helen Groger, Australian Aboriginal Bark
Paintings and Their Mythological Interpretation, Vol 1, Institute of Aboriginal Studies, Canberra, 1973.

66 Dominant Curve 1936. Oil on Canvas. Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York.

67 Layers. 1932. Tempera on cardboard. Collection: Mr and Mrs Nathan Cummings, Chicago.

68 Concerning the Spiritual in Art p.23

69 Contemporary Indian Paintings Inspired by Tradition, edited by Edith A Tonelli, Frederick S Wright Art
Gallery, UCLA Los Angeles, 1985

70 On the subject of modernism and conceptual art, the reader is directed to Tom Wolf's satirical masterpiece The
Painted Word, Black Swan edition, pub.1990

71 John Donne 1572-1631

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