Image by J. Ruth Kelly
“Sanskrit bindu: ‘This word, which has many meanings, like ‘point, dot, zero, drop, germ, seed, semen.’ . . . It is the point from which inner and outer space have their origin and in which they become one again.’ The thought, poem, is a cell or seed; a germ of living thought; growing from nothing to ripeness. Instead of the dead wood of systems, the tree of life; ramifications; branched thoughts new-grown with pleasant pain.” Govinda, Foundations of Tibetan Mysticism, 116 From Norman O. Brown’s Love’s Body
Pointillist Ponderings . . . 
Ruth, the whole thing is just too beautiful. I gaze mesmerized at what your soul paints. I’ve yet to ponder and better understand its source. “The thought, poem, is a cell or seed; a germ of living thought; growing from nothing to ripeness.” Each dot grows, and it grows by growing.
pierre, you’re a very generous soul…thank you. i can say only that the source is love flowing through a feltness that capitalizes on my hands’ lifetime tendency to shake. it works out quite well for me! i’ve longed for artistic expression all my life and this was the result of my being opened up by love on new levels. thanks for dropping in on my dotty world here.
I am so enjoying go back through your postings on this blog, Jruth. Wow! on this piece!
🙂 it’s one of my earlier ones and gives me a lot of joy. glad you like it leslie.