HEĀRT

ārmageddon II

Although the word armageddon by itself comes with apocalyptic connotations and surely all the chaos that may be projected towards the end of the world, I would like to express a brighter approach. I’ve titled this piece as such with a diacritic mark, the macron, to represent an era that we have yet to know. I also believe that this era is here today, in the world of the subtle. We observe its unraveling in our gentle gestures, in the warmth of love, and in the dance of incense smoke. 

One day, years ago, I made a wish. A strong visual played in my mind, and for years it accompanied me to remind me of my intentions. The years passed, and this visual would visit me occasionally in my waking moments. Upon opening HEĀRTRIUM, this visual came one last time, shocking my senses and arresting the flow of time. Looking into the chaos, or “hēll”, that was the space at its birth, I saw a figure. A handsome young man with curly hair and suffering eyes, an embodiment of compassion looking towards heaven.  

The face of Jesus, soothed me not only because of its symbolic significance but also because it was that face, in the midst of chaos, that revealed itself to me years ago. I have come to the knowledge that my awareness has shifted in time to the present moment. This understanding has sparked a new fire within to embody the heārtist: the essence of my incarnation.

In Hebrew, there is a word for this that is called “מסר” meaning “message from above”. There was no conversation, but an instant understanding —  a knowing — urging me nothing but to become a channel for its directive using my true gift from God, my hands. 

On the day I received this message, the sun had just set and I remember the emerging twilights. I was in the middle of the creation of an artwork I called “The blue tear of America" ​​in which the main motif was the Statue of Liberty that is bleeding blue Crocodile-tears from his left eye and from his right eye dusty tears made out of silver and gold. The loudness of this message felt heavy with responsibility with every passing moment, and I surrendered my human needs to begin the process of transforming the painting into “ārmageddon”. Still, I recall the sensations and thoughts of knowing the need of expressing something of such magnitude while being clueless of how best to do so. This expedition of bewilderment coupled with restless certainty has been my own journey to discover the depth of my own rabbit hole. For guidance and reference, I’ve found myself reading about world religions and relevant sources of inspiration. Within and across their words, a discovery long lost within the folds of my intuition has surged, pushing away noise and irrelevance that seem to have blinded humanity for too long. 

In my mind’s eye, New York is burning, along with all the symbolic associations to the fast-paced corporate lifestyle that has directed so many children’s dreams into the shallow and unsustainable. Even art expression has fallen to the hell of pimping itself for this so-called Machine that has captured God’s land and resources for man’s profit. 

Here, the “Almighty” dollar fools us with indifference. It’s seven o’clock and the sunset is upon us. only the closeness to our high ideals can save our future on this sacred land. This here, however, is not a manifesto, but a humble expression of my heārt.

In Chapter VII of Lewis Carroll's “The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland”, the Mad Hatter convinces us that time has frozen at six o'clock, his desired time-frame in which tea pours and friends gather at the table. I’ve set the clock to the moment we leave this event and we face a less pleasant reality. Time Square, the epitome of humanity’s past concept of American progress, is on fire. The old taxi with its twisted metal made once with intention of durability is only a memory of an era that was once considered golden. A barbed wire tiara, resembling spiked fencing, invites the viewer to the passion scenes of Jēsus in a modern world that still feels the pains of this not-so-distant past.  

The intention of this painting is to bring to the viewer the painful compassion of Jesus, through eyes that have witnessed so much over centuries of humanity’s ignorance of how to live under God’s embrace.  Ideally, upon looking at ārmageddon I, we are reminded to center ourselves on Jesus’s message, repeated ad nauseam: Love is the answer. 

Materials: Digital art, acrylic on plexiglass/tempered glass
Title: Ārmageddon II
Specialty: 3 moons effect
Copyright: the heārtist

Schoōls: Necromancy, Alchemy, Transmutation, Illusion, Evocation, Summon

ZIGGY'S BLACK STĀRDUST
DAVID BOWIE 

for the memory of David Bowie

While walking through the arid plains back from some-where, I passed through a gigantic engraved gray gate that symbolizes the formal entrance to the wildernesses of no-where.

I encounter a strange desert nomad wearing a brown cloak, hanging on his back with a camel-colored cross strap tied to both ends, is a strange stringed musical instrument, similar to a small elongated guitar.

Now I know that this strange instrument that plays a heavenly sound is a hybrid of mandolin and violin.

I am trying to look at this stranger's face that was hidden deep inside the dark brown hood, I am unable to see anything besides his deep blue eyes, one eye was colored as the earth and the other as bluish skies.

I felt like he was scanning me, looking to find out who I was, to understand who am I...

“I’m that stranger who’s walking in the eternal sand of the desert of the lost souls” I whispered.

I presented myself as a wanderer who roams around without any known route. for no apparent reason.

״I’m that heārtist who draws his inspiration from the voids of infinity investigates and learns from the signs that were left by the lost souls for the ones who seek the answers to the questions that nobody dares to ask…״

The wanderer listens to me, smiles lightly, and does not utter a word as he stares at the twilight sunrise, observing the rising purple sun.

A magical light washes the skies and reflects the ground, the magical dawn of the night has been broken into shiny lights and I sensed that it is time to rest from the day's hardships.

we climbed a giant level stair to reach the plain surface under the shade of an ancient ficus and lit a fire before the night fell.

The strange vagabond pulls out his mandolin, and signed with his finger to be quiet, "shhh", his cape slips from his head and reveals a tattoo of a black star near the end of his left cheek consisting of countless small dots reminiscent of stardust, and on the right side like lightning on his head.

I noticed his blue eye like a raging river, the pupil of his left eye is much larger than his other eye, this is without a doubt the extraterrestrial Ziggy Stardust aka David Bowie.

The purple sun is setting now, the black star or extraterrestrial associated with the spiders from Mars has left, and my time was over, I removed my mantle and said goodbye in my heart to the man who sold the world, I think the words of the song sum up our meeting perfectly.

The Man Who Sold the World (lyrics):

We passed upon the stair
We spoke of was and when
Although I wasn't there
He said I was his friend
Which came as a surprise
I spoke into his eyes
I thought you died alone
A long long time ago
Oh no, not me
We never lost control
You're face to face
With the man who sold the world
I laughed and shook hand
And made my way back home
I searched for form and land
For years and years I roamed
I gazed a gazeless stare
We walked a million hills
I must have died alone
A long, long time ago

Title: ziggy’s blāck stardust - Dāvid Bowie (lēgends)
Specialty: 3 moons effect
Copyright: the heārtist

School of Magic Arcanas: • Necromancy • Evocation • Transmutation • Illusion

LS#2 (Love Symbol #2) / The Prince of Spades J ♠
J♠ princē of spādes 

for the memory of Prince

I wear my brownish cloak and immediately jump into the dimension without any dimension to see without any vision and be able to know the unknown, for reasons beyond my understanding I arrived directly at one of the most controversial places for me, to the well of knowledge that until not long ago I was without any doubt sure that it was complete.

I wonder why I am here.

To my left is the purple sun that dominates the skies and rain is starting to drop from the heavy clouds that are now above the border between no-where and nowhere, a cloud of white pigeons is roaming above me towards no-where, the sadness of these helpless doves who forced to wander to the forgotten lands of no-where is feeling the air.

The rays of the purple sun break through the raindrops that are kissing the doves, I let my imagination paint the sight of my eyes as a spectacular spectacle of crying doves that are shedding purple rain.

I keep walking deep into the unknown towards the great stone of oblivion and it seems to me that I already know why I appear directly here.

Luckily I already know this lost road, I walk to the limit of my despair threshold and then continue a little more until I bump into some small rocks and then wait for the appearance of the shadowless monument that almost meets me, I will not dare to approach it again, that’s for sure!.

From a distance, I notice a shady figure dressed in a shocking purple jacket and high heels that disappear into the horizon of nowhere.

Sometimes even a sign is enough to know, I smile to myself and am happy to know that my dear and talented friend is kissing eternity, and will be remembered always as the prince who holds the love symbol #2.

Materials: Digital art, acrylic on tempered glass/plexiglass
Title: the Princē of spādes (lēgends)
Specialty: 3 moons effect
Copyright: the heārtist

School of Magic Arcanas: • Necromancy • Evocation • Transmutation • Illusion

salvador dālí 

for the memory of Salvador Dali

Materials: Digital art, acrylic on plexiglass/tempered glass
Title: Dālí (lēgends)
Specialty: 3 moons effect
Copyright: the heārtist

School of Magic Arcanas: • Necromancy • Evocation • Transmutation • Illusion

VĀN BEETHOVEN (lēgends)
ludwig vān beāthoven
for the memory of Ludwig van Beethoven
17 December 1770 – 26 March 1827

I traverse the dry land of nowhere with bare feet, a journey that stretches seemingly into eternity.
Where am I headed? why am I here?

• An intriguing question…
• Yet, I lack a definitive answer.
• All I know is that I'm drawn toward the cradle of music.

The sounds grow louder, an onslaught upon my senses.
They assail me, causing me to wince and yield.
I ponder if anyone can withstand the relentless assault of these harmonies.

I've come to visit an old friend...

I lean over the grave of Ludwig Vān Beethoven and offer my gratitude for the gifts he bestowed upon the world.

His music shall forever reside here, in its rightful place.

I must underscore a remarkable truth, one that provokes profound contemplation:
How is it conceivable that one of humanity's greatest musical creators was deaf?
In his eye, I've etched a musical note, for I believe he possessed the extraordinary ability to see the music.

this is the true sounds of silence...

Materials: Digital art, acrylic on tempered glass/plexiglass
Title: Ludwig van Beāthoven (lēgends)
Specialty: 3 moons effect
Copyright: the heārtist

School of Magic Arcanas: • Necromancy • Evocation • Transmutation • Illusion