Poetry

I’ll be posting more poetry as time goes by, old and new. In the meantime, hope you enjoy what’s here, along with the philosophical nuggets on my home page, regular poetic offerings to our anima mundi.

Below you will find a lightly edited art manifesto I’ve written twelve years ago. Some of it has aged, like me, some of it is the same, like me. The rest of it is like water, it’ll take the form required, and not be changed. It was written at the dawn of social media, right before the global economic crash. There was a tide rising. We proceeded to shape it. For better, or worse.

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Art Manifesto (2008)

Born a dreamer, throughout my life I was stubbornly struggling for my dreams to come true. As dreamers are known to do. And (mostly), beautifully failing. One fine day I had a tiny epiphany on what this fight was really about. I had been, all that time, valiantly defending the precious core of inner vision from the stranglehold of my expansive dreams. That was a turning point. The struggle has now ceased, somewhat, and is increasingly becoming a focused effort of implementing that vision in every day life. In homeopathic doses, daily. Nothing grand or sweeping, unless the situation requires. Just real. Practicing what I preach, hopefully.

Still engaged on occasion in a furious battle of desires, I am now slowly learning how to breathe.

To paraphrase Hubert Selby Jr. – dreams we should crush in us first, before they are crushed, inevitably, by the world. To give up on our vision, however, is to sell our souls. Dreams are illusions built on our fear of mortality and our Dionysian need to be ego-less in order to overcome that fear. In contradiction to their effervescent, fleeting purpose – if dreams survive their ecstatic moment and overstay they usefulness, they thrive mostly on hubris and are viciously deconstructed by the world. Visions endure any kind of brutal attack from the world or from within – for they are messages that our spirits bring into this life from the Beyond.

You will find plenty of people that will give you a helping hand and encourage you to dream. Not many out there nurture true vision. Visions are dangerous, unsettling, and very often, unpopular. Dreams are usually ego-maniacal, visions never are. That’s how we can tell the difference between a sane visionary and an insane dreamer who, more than frequently, considers him or herself a visionary.

Visionaries reveal to us uncomfortable truths, they make us question our beliefs, they touch on our vulnerability by unmasking theirs, making us fragile in our humanity, and humble (or irritate) us by their determination. Dreamers move in circles, visionaries ride on a spiral without end. The difference between a spiral and a circle is movement. This entwined ride is the DNA of Mother Earth and of our species.

In our world addicted to prettiness, the Wildesque beauty of truth, and the truth of beauty, has been deceptively presented as a professionally designed, perfectly palatable image.

This weaving of the Maya is building a parallel, illusory universe, founded on a billion little lies. And one day we might all collectively cross into that world, unaware that we are losing the one thing that makes us souls – our capacity for empathy. For to empathise truly with the other, you must be aware of the truth in your life, as well as the truth in theirs. And be willing to forgive. Especially yourself.

Performed spirituality so often becomes a status marker, a fashion statement, not our state of soul. We are rapidly becoming mere headline readers, in all matters of life, distracted or merely lazy to turn the other page, and question the sound bite devised to form us, not to inform us. And yet, we are taking it in like sugar, it gives us a high of invincibility, this stream of ceaseless around-the-clock information. Valid or not, it removes us further away from our intuition, or own bodies and sensations, unplugging us from our individual systems and into narratives that are simplified, to entertain, or weaponised, to deceive.

While our intuition and our grounded natural bodily wisdom, a higher instinct, are the true keys to unlocking the capacity for clear vision. Our mind is too much of a show-off to ever be trusted fully, and our emotions are easily led astray by personal desire.

You will know that you have met a visionary when you feel sobered up, inspired yet focused and clear. But, also, when you feel that you are loved. Unconditionally.

This planet has known all savagery, there is nothing new that is done by man to man (or animal, or soil) that is in any way different to any other era. Except one thing: never has in the known history of mankind the greed of the few, supported by indolence of the many, brought the planet to an actual verge of physical destruction.

Few are born visionaries. Visionaries instinctively understand consequences. But many can become visionaries once they choose to connect with their inner voice. You cannot, really, remain jaded, or cynical, or indifferent, and still be fully alive.

My only ambition is to be a little pebble in the stirring of the collective dream. One of the myriad little pebbles falling into the Great Ocean of the collective unconscious right this minute. It will have achieved its purpose just by you taking a moment to ponder this notion. It will be hundredfold enhanced by your brief connection with the presented work. If it jolts you closer to your own potentials, and is a little helper in your own heroic fight against the gangsters of illusion – we’ve hit the bulls-eye.

With love,

Milana

Poetry:
Birdsong, 2020
Woodlands, 2019
Moon Girl, 2014
The Void, 2008

 

          AUTHOR: © Milana Vujkov

{image: Fruška Gora, 2019, New Year’s campfire}

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