On Top
A Zen saying is there are many paths up the mountain but on top the view is the same. Lao Tzu says the path that is certain is not the certain path. What is certain for one man is not certain for another but the goal of all spiritual practice is one: enlightenment. Wars are fought, people bicker about what they believes to be GOD”S lasting and only truth. But then we are, hopefully, asking, “well what is God?”

Shall I wade out in the swamp of belief and try to define God. Think of this moment moving to the next: we are alive! God is the nothingness that gives the space to existence. Can you touch the past or find the future? Oh yes your mind can remember a past and it can hope for or dread a future but can you say they are real, can you hand them to me and say here it is. So you will pull out of your pocket a stone you found a month ago and say here is something from the past – there for the past exist! But where is it? It is still NOW! Now is all there is.

So what is the view from the top of the mountain? It is the clarity of being, it is our awareness of a non dual state, a view of the ONE! Some call it God, some see the valley below with a river to the sea ending in the horizon. What is beyond the horizon, the beginning or the end? Climb down the mountain and climb another and there it is in all directions: the horizon we want to see beyond.



The planetary power that governs this card is Mars. Mars is known for its military prowess, Liturgical bent employing the powers of arrest and punishment, and for its manpower in work. It is the enforcement wing of the ruling party in the house of Chesed.
Pe is translated as the mouth, an instrument used by seducers, politicians, and hopefully some educators. In Tibetan Bon Po the mouth is part of the throat chakra. The throat chakra is eternal energy governing speech and silence and which reminds us of the twin Gods of Ra Hoor Khuit and Hoor Paar Kraat the gods of speech and silence.
The tower is a projection of mans will extending out into the possible; as projections of the high and mighty we have example in the twin towers which have already fallen and the trump tower which like all things will one day tumble.
Today we have a divided country as represented by the Elephant, god of the Plutocrat, and the Mule a beast of burden and hero of the working class. They are shouting insults lies and diversions while the country falls apart. The Elephant puts his weight behind the punch – there is a backlash from the Mule. Behind them is the Dharma wheel or Wheel of fortune.
There are no real winners or losers in this game of words, only eternity.
We all have a voice use it.

A Flash in the Pan

Water color

First PUBLISHED IN: “Rain Disaster, Party” – 2015

After the third rejection today he reached for the chocolate to sweeten the blow. Yes the competition is high –we are all clamoring to give our work away! I mean dig – there are better things than money like – like? People reading the shit you wrote! I mean that’s an accomplishment in itself – the editors will read it…well some of it…a few words…hmmm…well for sure the title I guess.
How long will this go on? Even the slot machines roll out three cherries sometimes. But I’m not gambling – this ain’t mahjong – I am developing a skill – there is no supernatural phenomena as long as I keep editing right, I should be getting better – in the flow – Wu Wei? He felt a crumbling of his foundation, a shifting but he stood firm.
Edit! Cut cut cut – Kill your babies.
IT must be fresh, clean, alive, with no cliché.
It’s a science: Self-correct!
It’s is an Art: Sing out!
It’s a chore: Clean up your mess!
Maybe I should vacuum the floor or wash the dishes while listening to Verdi. I mean maybe I should waltz along the Avenue singing praise of Satan. Climb a mountain? Maybe I should just keep writing! Damn it – it’s getting stuffy – I need fresh air – I am being suffocated!
He changed the station on the radio and a country song plays, “If I cry a hundred years maybe I’ll find a way to market these tears.”
That’s it! He turned off the radio inspired! He put on the yellow suit he had been saving and having dressed he took nothing else ran out the door down the street to the subway and to Grand Central; I’ll go north to apple country. The flowers may be ready to bud and I too shall bud and bloom with them. You see if only I can hang awhile – in fact long enough to become a juicy crisp apple, well you know the fable, as such I might be a great temptation to those editors; they shall eat of my fruit and they shall know good and evil.
Uh hmm should I change evil to bad?

An Artist talking to himself

Water color

The Artist
An Artist was having a conversation with himself, a soliloquy, having not been commissioned,and decided to invite a few friends to listen in. Although singular, sometimes the conversation would get heated over principals or standards and his friends would get a laugh.
Then there were those moments of contention when the expectations his friends would bring would clash with his turn of thought. He didn’t want to argue since they were nice enough to stop by and listen but he often wondered why some would feel the need to judge.
The conversation was always between his tolerant pleasure-seeking ideal and his hard-edge ego. The Ego felt threatened and infringed upon and for that matter was clinging to his manufactured and contrived life.”Things must be done RIGHT!” The ideal just flitted about on butterfly wings while listening but had nothing to say. The ego raved about the past and wanted a better future then lectured on what was good and bad. The ideal ate a few grapes and gave him space.
The Ego loved to bring up emotionally charged subjects like morality or inevitable disasters – things that must be acted on. The Ego would obfuscate the truth with unsubstantiated ‘facts ‘ drawn from common sense and hearsay and would stand tall with any conspiracy. The ideal sat quietly and waited while the ego disappeared like a dream on waking.
The artist friends all cheered and went home.

Helen Artemis

Helen – Oils on Canvas – 24 x 30

February first




*Golden Bough

Looking out

He became aware that he was aware. It was as if a dark cloud lifted off the top of a mountain and all was revealed. He recalled how in the past things looked so different, static and opaque; his mind always occupied by things he wanted and could not have, beautiful things. Then there were the reasons that keep his mind busy – reasons why he could not grasp for himself all that he wanted and so he raged in anger at the impediments.

Then it happened, well not just like that, it took time, a lot of it, but when you mark it off against eternity it might seem like a speck in the sands. You see he only looked upon a stone wall rather than seeing the thin and flimsy veil that he believed to be invincible and being invincible he felt trapped. He could not see the space that is all embracing – like a mother to her newborn baby. He just sat there and complained.

He sat and complained for many years. He looked out in the world and saw all that he blamed for his misfortune. “They ripped me off and it pissed me off” With this excuse he dragged his ass like an anchor on a boat – getting nowhere. That’s when he got the call.

It was a voice, inside his mind, which told him: “You must discover the unknowable”.

“How could I do that?”

“By getting out of the way,” the voice announced.

Now he was totally perplexed, “if I get out of the way then who will go and for that matter, who will know?”

“Nobody,” the voice returned.

Suddenly the façade fell away and he was aware and understood.


A Matter of Time

Time shall decide my fate, as if I were trying to astound by saying so, but no, what IS remarkable will be that I am discovered to be nothing more than imagination. Incessantly I try to realize my ambition to Exist, only to be distracted at the brink … I am grasping at the wind.
I give you my portrait; a portrait of a point, if it could be made, a mere fragment extending into multifarious desires for the possible – a gnawing need, from a beast at the pit of my gut, desperate to have time and squeeze the life out of it.
I search for a means to exist and the pure joy that it brings. Oh I know there is suffering too, I want to suffer existence in all its sorrow and glory. I have always wanted to place my living feet upon that broad highway and walk forth in the golden sunshine of reality. Not to evaporate into nothingness at the first doubt of my reality.
I saw a man with a bright red bow tie and a lime green suit. There is something so odd and compelling about him that I decide to follow him. I want to know what he will do. I blend in with the shadows as if I were one. The man kept walking like nothing mattered. He didn’t seem to know anyone and I wondered if he were a stranger.
What does stranger mean? In a world where nobody believes in what they really are, everything is strange! Yet where one is always under constant surveillance in the public eye, what could be less revealing? I have strange fantasies and an even stranger outlook – am I strange? I MUST BE!
Suddenly things got interesting. The man took a right turn down Bliss Street and began to admire the flowers that were blooming. I want to run up and shout some obscenity in his ear or pretend to be a terrorist just to see the shocked look on his face but I hold back. I need to see what he will do. That’s when I noticed a large unattended dog walking toward us. The dog’s eyes sparkle in the light of the sun and his coat is bristling with filth – there is a drool of saliva hanging from his lip. I became frightened – he could be mad!

The man didn’t seem to notice the dog as his eyes followed the song of a bird. Should I warn him? Should I come alive and shout? What is life about if not having an experience with the living and that is what I long for.
But I couldn’t. Instead I ran across the street, almost getting hit by a speeding car driven by a besotted teenager listening to loud rap music. The dog walked past the stranger without either noticing the other.
The stranger looked across the street at me and seemed to recognize me. He waved and gave a smile. I pretended not to see him although I was looking directly at him. He started walking toward me with a pleasant smile on his face. I became alarmed and wanted to run away but feared to be found ill mannered. The man walked past me and shook the hand of a man standing behind me.

The Fortune Teller

The Fortune Teller
Oils on Canvas 20 x 24

A Fortune Teller

“Are you asking me a question about wishes or about plans?” the fortune teller asked her.

“About my wishes.”

“Are you worrying or are you hopeful about those wishes?”

“Worried! That’s why I came to you. To…to find out if in the future my wishes will come true.”

“Don’t you realize you are creating your own future.”

“That’s absolute rubbish, the future is a matter of luck. Other wise every one would be creating a life just the way they want!”

“No – most people are just like you wishing and praying for a better future but doing nothing to make it happen”.

“I work hard, things just don’t seem to go right”.

“You work hard at avoiding the truth”.

“You not a fortuneteller – you’re a fraud!”

“You didn’t come to me hoping for the truth – you want me to lie – to tell you everything is rosy and your dreams will all come true, don’t you, but I won’t – you poison your mind with anger, cynicism and waste your time avoiding the truth. If you don’t change you are headed for a disaster”.

”That’s a horrible prediction – I won’t pay!”

“You won’t pay me but you will pay. I don’t want your money I want your attention, just remember this: its not the cards your dealt but how you play the game.”

Moment of Transmutation from a Man to an Ass

“Magic Potion” Oils on Canvas – 24 x 30

He had begun his quest for magic power. Though he did not want to admit, it was really a quest for happiness and what is happiness but a freedom of want. Anyway what is the point of power if it doesn’t bring joy.

He wanted this power so he could cause change. His gut told him once we cause change we had better be nakedly aware of how that change will unfold. We must consider the results of our actions – karma.

This is where the story gets interesting – he wanted to transform himself into a master but instead transmuted into an ASS! You see the ego is a sucker for quick gain.

It is a matter of getting our love, our passions,under control and not allow that love to be usurped by others. Something that can be achieved by transcending good and evil – it is a return to paradise or bliss.

So finally it comes down to this: it is not a wish that succeeds but a plan.
He wished he had one…

How did I end up here?

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How did I end up here?


ARTIST BIO                                                                                                                            Showing a story is a priority no matter which Medium or Style I utilize. To Seduce the Viewer with an array of Color, Composition, Light/ Shadow revealing a sensation of being.


Atlanta Art Institute : oil painting – life drawing.

Art students league: Life drawing Marshal Glassier

Finishing school : Faux finish, gilding, color theory

Zhang Shou – Cheng: Chinese pen and ink


Art is all encompassing. I earn my daily bread with the Decorative Arts. My work has been featured in ‘House Beautiful’ 1989 Cover Story as well as Architectural Digest. Many top Restaurants feature my Atmospheric finishes:   IL Bucco, La Paella, Petrossian and recently on West Broadway the world famous ‘Mamo’. At present I am executing a work for the Cooper-Hewit Museum.

Contact Info:  Eric Hill                                                                                                         Mobile: 917 8435816                                                                                                                Email:   erichill418@gmail.com