L. F. Antrider

I am beginning to understand the 'point'?  no... the joy of drawing Mandalas.  There is a mesmeric element to it that is soothing to the over-active mind.  I won't conjecture into the realm of the metaphysical, claiming like some comfy guru that I obtain mystical wisdom through producing these patterns of lines criss-crossing and re-interpreting each other, that doing this practice propels me closer towards some ineffable godhead.  Of those things, I do not claim to know.  However, doing this does instill a calmness within me, a barrier breaking the closeness between me and my own mind--thus creating a space for a peaceful silence. In that sense, these geomotrical spasms do seem to have a mystical sort of power.

 

Granted, it may be disputed whether all of what I draw can be considered legitimate Mandalas.  Surely some experts would say no, and I would agree with them too.  We'll call the rest 'geometrical explorations', huh?  Sounds good to me anyways.  I don't know as much as I could about the practice of meditation via mandala, but i intend to learn as I go from here.  However, the practice has been a beneficial distraction from my own inner conflicts.  As with all art.

 

Also, one thing I've learned from producing these is how the geometry sort of... grows or  mutates of its own volition.  It was funny because one man commented on my works here that there's nothing special about them because they're just shapes.  This makes me laugh.  When you start drawing more of these shapes, you realize how they build the world.  You can see the flower pedals spiraling outward, the sun rising and the sun setting.

 

After all, our world is nothing but shapes.  (In a visual sense at least.)

This geometry makes beautiful art because it's what binds all visual

art together.  At least, that's how I feel on the matter.

 

NAMASTE.