dissolving the boundary between ego and superegothis is my submission for the ‘psychedeli
dissolving the boundary between ego and superegothis is my submission for the ‘psychedelic’ prompt for r/sketchdaily … not crazy about what the gif compression did to it (it’s super grainy, and watch the body when it goes blue, it looks like it moves) but it really deserved to be moving. this is obviously ground tread far better by Alex Grey and other visionary artists, but if I were going to allow myself to be intimidated by the greats, I’d never make any art at all. he’s sitting in Sukhasana pose, doing the Shuni Mudra (middle finger to the thumb), which is supposed to bring patience and discipline - two things definitely required to reach a state like this. I’ll be perfectly honest - I’ve never reached this level with just yoga, as I’ve never worked up this much patience and discipline - but with some *ahem* help I’ve slipped into this state a couple times. The D.A.R.E. cop never told us about ego death when he was showing off his little case of drugs.The White Blind LightYour home is still here, inviolate and certain.Thank you, oh Lord, for the white blind light. Jumped, humped, born to suffer. Made to undress, in the wilderness.Our love so found a safe niche, where we can store up riches and talk to our fellows, in the same premise of disaster. Thank you, oh Lord, for the white blind light. Let me tell you about heartache and the loss of God, wandering, wandering in hopeless night. Moonshine night, mountain village insane in the woods, in the deep trees, in the deep trees, in the deep trees. Your home is still here, inviolate and certain. Oh, I want to be there, I want us to be there, oh I want to be there, beside the lake, beneath the moon, cool and swollen, dripping its hot liquor. I want to be there. Thank you, Lord, for the white blind light. A city rises from the sea. Let me tell you about heartache and the loss of God, wandering, wandering in hopeless night. Let me show you the maiden with wrought iron soul. Out here in the perimeter there are no stars. Out here we is stoned. Immaculate.- Jim Morrison -- source link
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