Monday Mar 10, 2003
Oh Maya, Oh Maya
There is no doubt that there is a human collective consciousness. The energy of the past is swirling about us in the present. Can you see it? Can you feel it? It exists on the sub-atomic level—the invisible matrix that creates the material world. It is transcendental knowledge.
The wisdom, mystery, and history of the ages are available to anyone willing to receive.
One overcast Los Angeles afternoon, I had driven down from my Hollywood Hills home to the Insomnia Cafe on Beverly Boulevard. It was handy as an art supply store was across the street from the cafe. After ordering a cappuccino, I sat down on one of the plush living room type chairs.
I took out my color pencils and bristol board pad and began. As the shapes and forms began appearing, I knew some thing ancient, Peruvian, Andean, some thing Mayan—not the Chavin or Nasca Civilizations—but Mayan was coming through.
After the Spanish conquered the Aztecs of Mexico some time after 1519, the Conquistadors invaded the Yucatan, home of the Maya. The Spanish policy was to kill all the Mayan priests and burn all the Mayan books, which they proclaimed the devil’s work. The knowledge of the priests and what was in the lost books (a few of their books on bark did survive) of the Maya was an invaluable loss to humanity’s collective experience.
In that moment, I knew what had once been Maya, what had once been in their books and their philosophy, permeated the air around me. I was the conduit for some spirit of the Maya, eager to be reborn on this existential plane.»
Note: From my artist’s note in the Mayan, I exhibit inside the main site gallery.