Presence

From the moment we are born, we are gradually conditioned or shaped by society at large how to behave against our divine nature within the private, family and public arenas of our lives. Each sector has its own behavioral etiquettes called social norms. Failure to adhere to clearly delineated, vast, absurd and exponentially restrictive social expectations results in innumerable forms of punishment. In short, from the time we take our first breath until the moment we exit the material plane, we co-exist with beings programmed to behave with significantly limited expression of their natural, inherent selves. The projective, deviation-punishment algorithm, had been so firmly set in place that, unfortunately, we found ourselves with little realistic alternative choice, but to genuinely and/or playacting become one of them. The art class, the theatrical stage, the sound or movie recording studios, the sports field, the dance floor, the painting and writing pads, were designated as permissible grounds to more fully, yet not unlimitedly or multi-directionally express for a level of control over spiritual power had to be maintained. Thus, while some of us rushed to become formal artists to ease the spiritual oppression and have greater opportunities to engage in the robustly creative aspects of themselves, others eagerly sought to connect with select formal artists’ expression, the frequency of which they also held. The deep desire to convey the less and less permissible aspects of the divine, however, came with an astronomical personal and financial price, birthing the multi-billion-dollar art industry rise.

The purposeful suppression of human expression had thus been designed and orchestrated as a means to generate profit for the few who invented the malevolent scientific-based possession of the purely divine. Resulting profit had been pre-contemplated to lead to even greater power over human life and thus larger personal financial gains for where there is no or scarce expression of the natural flow of life, there is only a thin cord connecting us to sacredness and thus little willpower to resist the conditioning of the human mind. The foreseeable objective of the intervention is magnified in the notion of transhumanism – a means to acquire absolute profit and power over life. Clever…right? Below, we introduce Sosé Gjelaj’s personal account of the art world to exemplify the above artificial troubling reality that we found ourselves participating in for an extended period of time.

“My first experience with formal art education dated back to the 3^rd or 4^th Grade when I was around 9 years of age. I was so excited to attend the art class, expecting to dive into paint and freely have fun. Instead, the teacher had already set a white-clothed table with a vase and a couple of fruits laying on the side. He instructed all of the students in the class to paint the objects realistically in order to learn perspective. I had a very difficult time resonating with what he meant as I could only envision what my creative impulse was calling me to express. I could not paint the objects to look realistic no matter how hard I tried. My creativity was so expansive that my soul sought to experience the exact opposite of that.  The vase on my painting looked like it was melting down, similar to some of Salvador Dali, famous painter’s, art.

At that moment, the teacher walked towards my desk and spoke loudly to me in front of the entire class: ‘I don’t know who sent you to my class. You don’t belong here. This is utterly despicable.’ He picked up my painting and held it high so that all my classmates can see it. Every student was laughing. I felt so devastatingly humiliated. He explained that I have to strictly follow his rules the next time he lays objects on the white-clothed table. The teacher then turned my desk upside down and asked me to knee on the wooden edge, a very painful experience indeed. Next, he asked me to stretch my hands and began striking them repeatedly with a stick-shaped wooden branch until my blood vessels broke and my hands began to bleed. The teacher gave me a failing grade for the art class.

The experience was so petrifying and it affected me so drastically that, for many years, I only sporadically sketched. Yet, the desire to paint was so deep in me that in due time I found myself painting any chance that I had. I wanted to be a painter wholeheartedly, yet a new fear arose in me of letting go of financial stability to peruse my dream. It took me a long time to resolve it and fully delve into art.

I began approaching art galleries in New England and New York, inquiring to hang my art on their walls. Several conditions applied. First, I was asked to pay a staggering fee to have a few of my art pieces exhibited. Second, I was asked to submit only my most recent work of paintings most likely to be sold and not change my painting style from there on. Last, but not least, on a number of occasions, I was asked to literally prostitute myself in order to have my art shown. I refused to do so, which left me with the need to satisfy the remaining conditions in order to have my art hanging in art galleries and share it with the world. Despite the fact that I was willing and able to pay the hanging fee, I was being ostracized and asked to leave galleries the moment I presented recent paintings of alien beings and symbols while the remaining of my art was judged as too eccentric, not in synchrony with how humanity perceived art to be and thus not likely to generate profit for the galleries. I was seldom given a chance to hang carefully-selected art pieces in galleries.

After years of struggle and little success to share my creativity with the world, I opened my own gallery, hoping that doing so would remove the borders between my expression and people’s connection to my art. To my surprise, 75% of guests who attended the grand opening made judgmental comments (i.e., “this is weird”) in regards to, specifically, the alien beings and symbols paintings hanging on my wall. One guest turned towards me and said to me directly: “This is way too eccentric for me, I am sorry,” walking right out. They were conditioned to only perceive and connect to realistic art. And so, little by little, the word spread in town that I was extraordinary eccentric due to the content of my art.

My story is everyone’s story of suppression of the imagination and its expression, the only difference being that some individuals have experienced it to a greater extent. Nevertheless, suppression is suppression regardless of the degree. We can either remain at what happened to us yesterday or we can participate in this beautiful dance of freeing ourselves. We no longer have the gates locking the imagination in Alice in Wonderland when we open ourselves to perceptual possibilities extending outside the norm, when we release the fear of social ostracizing for the divine beings that we truly are, when we realize that life is art, its purpose is to connect us ever more deeply to Source and through that connection, experience life.”

By: Sosé Gjelaj and Elitsa Teneva, Guest Authors. 

Art: “I am the DJ of my Life” by Elitsa Teneva

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