Index
Symbols are our psycheās way of informing countless internal myths with content
Ā Candle, šÆļø, āļøāš„,Ā šļø
I often bought brightly coloredĀ candles fromĀ the basement spice shop around my corner on 2nd avenue. During that time,Ā I woke before sunrise, ate breakfast by candlelight. Iād light thisĀ meditation candle and prep for 6am bikhram yoga. I had a lot of uses for candles then.Ā Iād light them over dinner or before a working studio session. I stared at itās flame, inviting whatever would come as I drew, ate, made, danced, filmed, or burned things. Later I learned I had also been practicing trataka; a meditation technique where one uses a candle as a single point of focus- sitting before it like a student. Ā It is a melting timepeice. A few years later I suffered a major loss and my body went through a process of grieving. During this timeĀ I picked up a different type of candle. On the bottom shelf of the grocery storeĀ at the corner of Halsey and Malcom X Boulevard. Between the airfresheners and ziplocks,Ā I found them. Tall unmarked Santeria-style votive candles.Ā Pulling out a paint pen Iād don them with a mantra, whatever needed to get me through to me those next couple of weeks. When the candle runs out-- maybe I absorbed the learning? The candle made me feel less alone.Ā Kundalini was another concept absorbed into my candle studies. Birthday candles also. Before my 35th I drew theĀ unstoppableĀ years pressing on me in aĀ Marina Ambromovich-style crucifix. There is something about a candle as a creative force or a spirit. The flame āthis little light of mineā that can be extinguished. TheĀ Chicago Cultural center had a cool multi-teired mosaicĀ candlelabra. I found it somewhere in the buildings ornate floors. It isĀ occult-looking andĀ reminds me of the brass 6-pronged candle holder I had recently bought from my dead grandfathers estate. TheĀ candelabraĀ that sits on my table now.Ā