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I Think Of Myself Every Day

On April 14, 2021, in Leadership Plus, by Neculai Fantanaru

Try to discover your inner vision beyond the boundaries of your own search, through the prism of what art has to hide in it regarding a universe that is self-constructing and evolutionarily self-feeding from its own resources.

I think of myself every day. I seem to ask myself increasingly difficult questions, which highlight the artist’s predilection for everything that is in perpetual change, movement, for everything that is fleeting, transient. Sometimes, through a strange knowledge, I consider myself the prisoner of another world, more spectacular, described in so many books with oriental mysticism, it can be admired only in a painting by a nameless artist.

And like any entrance into another world, where every day is different from the other, my captivity being more spectacular through the charm of technically unfeasible existence in this world, I delight in the maximum knowledge springing as if from the vision of a worthy director, accustomed to link the actor to the set, filming him in a counter-dive, in the cutout of other times.

Such is my world, it traverses as deeply as possible the horizon of an imagination created with an astonishing ascension to the sublime. It is an intellectual referral that refers to the way the artist juggles the elements of the unseen world, to highlight the complexity of the dialogue with that work of art that revitalizes your courage to believe that beyond reality there is something beautiful, sublime, divine.

However, why am I worried? Because I constantly feel the presence of something different from myself inside of me, something that anchors me in an “I-Origin-Unreal” that needs to be interpreted with meticulousness and full wisdom in order to be fully included in the work of a thought called Tranormhisys. It signifies the vibration of the corresponding point in the microcosm of the human being recreated through words, directly and indirectly, through parables, through silences, through the way in which the artist manages to weave the context-support for the notions expressed randomly.

Of such a twisted nature is my thinking, still thinking of myself, that I often forget to experience and feel the whole substantiality of the work.

Leadership: Can you change your view on the act of making art, understanding that you could actually be known under several types of being?

A preliminary remark. From what I myself notice, being a much more evolved world than it seems at first sight, in case I have full confidence in the cosmic scope of a permanent genesis, I understand that in fact I could be known under several types of being: one without end, one inaccessible who does not communicate personally with anyone and one who works in the world, however not directly, indirectly, through energies. Here art has a hard word to say: what can make me understand what I experience, has no comparisons and variations in this world.

And if the sophisticated structure of my brain revolves around the defining features of art, the creative process, and the created act, then it goes without saying that everything I think suggests the artist’s devouring desire to turn his realistic-fantastic vision into new symbols, metaphors or allegories. I’m just saying that giving my brain to art is done by virtue of the natural dispositions of the original self to face that phase of symbolism that favored the birth of surrealism, engaging in more mature forms of relationship with what is called Kriplansetikes(a dynamic of feelings placed in a fabulous, imaginary lyrical narrative).

And whenever I speak of a mind that can only be studied through the science of art, I feel that I find myself in the words of Patrick Drouot from a purely spiritual book:

“Suddenly, I felt like I was switching to 'turbo'. My higher consciousness and other levels of myself seemed to be looking for me. But which 'me' and who was looking for me? Me and myself, as if various scattered parts of myself reunited. At this stage, once again, everything was becoming simple, obviously, I had no body, I existed, I was like an artificial satellite in orbit around the Earth, I was very close to this border that separates one universe from another, a dimension from another… I felt like I was getting an original dimension, MY dimension, the one I had, the one I have and will have in eternity.”

Leadership: Can you strengthen the connection between art and the universe by reflecting on the search for a destiny that can be read shortly before it is forgotten?

I think I have made myself understood, even if the meaning of my self goes beyond the meaning of the convention of avoiding otherness, of the double state of consciousness present in many worlds. And if I continue to revolve around myself, observing the light radiation that haloes me from all sides, around the essential features of a reality where the color of the soul counterbalances the drawing inspired by the atmosphere suggested by a certain state, then I tend to look at an image in which the invisible is visually represented by a metaphor for the rediscovery of a paradisiacal universe.

Or, this is my universe, crossed by a clever, inventive mind, united by a color palette of warm, natural and delicate tones, such as red, yellow and orange that highlight an image in which I always find myself the same, and however different. Here’s what actually happens. I walk behind the scenes with the thought of finding myself in depth, in art, in science, in the same state and situation, at the moment of opening the time capsule. Therefore, I use metaphysical knowledge to understand as much as possible this phenomenon of greater thought than greatness itself.

At the same time, I have learned to be someone else, very different from someone who constantly whispers to me to stay the same. I have learned that only on the basis of the logic of beauty, in which metaphor plays a major role, is the unity of my own being found, which is also part of the “Odyssey” in search of the Great Alchemical Work (under the sign of the Sacred Mystery).

Even if one day I will be forgotten in this world, even if my words will be forgotten without guilt, and if the forgetfulness will take the magnitude of a descent into obscure territory, at least I have the faith to believe that the universe has come to greet me. I opened up to it and it to me. I understand that the mission of art is to be the mirror of a universe that is inconceivable without you.

Therefore, here is the conclusion:

A man who seeks himself is a man who thinks of himself daily, as if he were thinking of someone else in the shadow of fervently spoken words, with that prophetic weight with which only he is set to hear them.

Every Day I Think Of Myself, just as every day I recognize myself more and more as someone else. The universe has given way to a wonderful man with whom I have reason to assume that true pleasure in perceiving art is the path that must be taken so that I myself can become a universe. One day I will understand why an infinite Universe can be reflected in one man, just as complex, deterministic and amazing.


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