At the Arab Art Fair

On voice …

There is One true voice …yours.

You can adorn it, play with it, shift its path  to suit your moods or those who listen, so as to produce as many a sound as there are colors in the universe …Still, you have  One Voice…Truth shows itself in many a shape, still those who have been blessed with sight …know that there is One Truth, ..., that « One » and « Truth » are the same Thing…

Truth is obvious, just like the sun, yet, just like the sun we can never look at it directly unless we look beyond, unless we know how to look …unless we practice. And just like we pray to find our way ( la voie) we sing so that our voice ( voix) finds its way… The delicate task is not in bending the knees or opening the mouth and making a series of sounds but in Believing , in having and keeping the Faith while the concentration wavers, the heart falters, emotions rise, and passions sweep it all away…

I tell you have faith in your voice, it will carry your whole body, inspect it directly closely intimately, not through the ears of Others …open your ears to its natural beauty and dont drown its uniqueness in all the Fake that surrounds you !

I tell you the Truth, but the truth just like the sun burns, and our skins have gone unaccustomed to it …and so you shall run away from your real voice, just like you shall be drawn to mine… you, like your parents before you,shall hear the call of the Truth,recognize it for what it is, yet rarely if ever follow its source… So it has been said, so it shall be …

what is a Teacher to do ? break your will to follow his, but then broken you can never reach where he leads… submit to despair and teach you nothing, use you against you, but then he’d lose his time and energy, and most of all he’d be losing faith ! what’s a teacher without faith ?

give you drops of knowledge, so you get addicted to both teacher and teachings ?

 He could , but then what teacher is proud of a student with no free will ? he then would have to kick you hard to make you leave his side : some rarely survive the kick and some become addicted to being kicked…

the  Teacher , like a tree, or the sea, does not chose the size of its fruits nore the length of its waves, he is both fruit and wave, whole and unit, the knower, the known, and the knowing…the teacher becomes the verb…the singer becomes the song, that is but a series of deep breaths…

Ever wonder why They all were teachers …

Because when asked they could never say No…because they knew that what they have  was never theirs to hide, that what they are is a transition…that only by giving it all up, they would become …

That is why those were teachers, that is why now we are sadly surrounded by Masters …

DS