Whenever people ask me, "Ivan, where do you get your inspiration?" I say, "From a luminous portal so brilliant it cannot be viewed directly, but only in reflection, from which emanates a pure stream of language-less knowing that is infinite and infinitely intimate. I thrum consonant with the music of spheres at its touch, and I know myself to be part of the ongoing song of the One."
And when they ask, "Ivan, where does one find this light, this portal? Can it be found externally, or must one find it only after long searching in one's own heart?" I say, "Nope, it's on my bathroom ceiling."
I'm sure a lot of you do the same.
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