Dance As One

Mister Y

"What's over there?"

"Is that a beard or a bear?"

"Is that a boat in a battle?

Is it a snake that rattles?"

"Is that a big turtle?
Over the rock it hurtles."

"Is that a tree?"
"How could that be?"

"Or is that a face?"

"If you walk in a slow pace..."

"Is that a rattling snake?
Or is it a leaf in the lake?"

"It´s not, for Pete's sake!
Do you know what you make??
What you see´s what you take!"

"Is that a dragonhead?"
"Doesn´t it look sad?"

"No, it's just a lizard.
From the distance it´s too hard."

"No, it's another shadow!
That is playing with you in the meadow."
"And what's there below?
It´s coming very slow."

"Is that a giant?
You must be valiant!"

"Is that a beast?
You should run, to say the least!"

"Are you afraid? Why??
If it's just Mister-Y!"

Excerpts from the Book "Natural Illusions" by Ana C. Antunes


"Photos of Thoughts"
Books and Articles based upon play-on-words, image-in-action and exercises for your mind, body and soul

Copyright © 2009 Ana Bowlova Ink. All rights reserved.

The Art of Sculpting in Life

Poem with Collage by Ana C. Antunes
Hommage to a Life of Love and Devotion


In Memory of Mr. Luis Alberto Rodriguez Jordan

He was a man of only few words.
But the few words he spoke were immensely powerful.
Lucho was almost always quiet. He didn’t talk much.
But it was more than enough
Like a divine embrace.
He always had that peaceful smile on his face
as only those who are constantly in contact with God’s thoughts would act
His ears and nose were big and so was his fate.
But his head and hands were great like his heart.



“He was one of the first one to bring it to the Chilean Market.”

His son would say proudly.

But his legacy was not so much of being a pioneer in his own world,

but what made him really fulfill his heart was actually being a servant of God.

At that time he already enjoyed working with his hands,

painting, sculpting or simply sensing objects in an atelier he hired

so that he would handle the wood inspired

by the entire splendor of the Creator’s manifestation.

He already had six children

when he decided to have a full time career as a sculptor.

He was poor

but his wife poured

encouraging thoughts on him

and she helped him find clients to his art.

He then started to sell in small parts

with scketches and wood varvings which he would later paint

growing to larger than life sculptures of Saints

for the Catholic Church in Santiago as a start.





Many Churches in Chile now,

from North to South,

have his sculptures in vow

to beautify their sanctuaries with their grace and majesty

Even the Pope has one of his woodcarvings next

to him as a Christ on the cross lies at the Vatican office desk.






Lucho, as he was known by his peers,

worked with his hands as fast as he could endure

so that he continued to work gladly,

while he raised the family which was getting bigger and bigger.





His wife bore eleven children,

but like a miracle, eight survived

and are very much alive

form a life of faith and light.

He always believed God would provide.

And he was right!






He was going to turn eighty

when he contracted a rare illness called “Wagner’s Disease”

and he became weaker and weaker

as he could no longer feel at ease.

But not even that stopped him of being away from his Art.

For him this was not a farewell.

He kept drawing and he continued to sculpt as well.

His last work was made with his trembling hands

for the baby of his family

who is actually my husband.

He made a serene-look Christ without a cross with only four toes in one of his feet.
And we cried in our loss for him it was the last time we would greet.



He died exactly at midnight on Sunday, the day God rested after so much labour.
And a week before the Father’s Day. He didn't miss the call from the Saviour.
And as a devoted son he couldn’t delay.
Not even for one day.
His last words were for his wife,“Don’t miss me too much!” he would say.
As usual, he always thought of someone else rather than himself, I guess.
What a bless!

(Excerpt from book "Ph(r)ases of Life" by Ana Bowlova):

Workbook in a Nook


With all my heart, to this artist who I admire and a man whose life made great Art.




Many came but only two blue did appear.

Enlaced in a sleigh, all happy the reindeer,

Rolled in the snow that covered the house,

Reindeer darling of she who's Ana Claus,

Yell to the whole world to hear:



Christ, the Lord, oh so near!

Holy Saints rejoice and sing,

Real life comes for us to bring

In tender thoughts and dear salvation

So is the Lord and all His Creation.

Tender and sweet as the little things

Mild and soft He who is the King.

All in one voice echoing with no parallel:

Save us the Lord, it's Noel, Noel, Noel!




Ana Cross Tic

Books and Articles based upon play-on-words, image-in-action, article-^l^-action and "divin-actions" exercises for your mind, body and soul!
Copyright © 2009 Ana Bowlova Ink. All rights reserved.

VAN GOGH

Van Gogh is my favorite artist, who painted the most beautiful sunflowers and he accidentally shot himself on the chest and quietly waited to the Angel of death to take him while he lied on his bed for two days... Vivid flowers burn in flame, swirl orbs with no name reflect the eyes of violet blue a dreamy soul yet so true:

Virtually extremist, yet magical, spiritually barged,
Innate artist imbued of warm and tender care.
Nothing with this genius, constantly charged,
Could any other energy ever compare.
Elated he lived for the love of his art.
Naturally he inspired with his own heart.
Traveling in astral planes, all over he'll remain.

Vanished he will never be, for he still lives, now with no pain.
Avant garden, he took his own life to prove he was not insane.
Nevertheless, his insanity made what was the truth in his life.

Genius, immortal, a fervent soul who cut his own ear with a knife.
Organic, surreal or irrational, his own self he would never crate.
Gargantuan energy that compelled him to create in awful strife.
Heralded what would eventually take him earlier rather than late.
(ACROSTIC by Ana nTunes)
I read his autobiography, "Letters to Theo" and also an Essay from Paul Gauguin, who described that incident about Vincent cutting his left ear & all, but in none there are records where he may have exposed such onirical state. He describes with amazing details his way of drawing and painting and finding harmony and the vibration in the forms. I think it is possible that he had based much of his Art in astral travels. I believe he already lived in a dreamy state, as only a genius can face. I once dreamed of this master painting. And as I tried to reach out to see what he was painting, the huge canvas danced right in front of me. He then turned to me and smiled. He was beautiful, in such peace, inner strength and beauty reflecting his own soul!

I remember when I spent my 25th b'day in Paris, and then I travelled to the south of France...

"I can still remember that winter when travelling from Paris to Arles. How I was constantly on the lookout to see if we had reached Japan yet."

(Akira Kurosawa asks a character on his movie "Dreams": "What do you do?"

Van Gogh answers:

"I work. I slave myself. I shove myself like a train."

(He then grabs his pallete and painting stuff and he reaches out towards the sunset)

"The sun compels me to paint. I cannot waste my time talking..."

It seems that he could only abandon himself into his Promised Land, his Utopia, his Japan:

"A Japanese draws rapidly, extremely rapidly, like lightning, because his nerves are finer and his feelings simpler." Like me, Van Gogh always prided himself for working very fast.

"There will only be a little rest ahead once he has done a couple of years' worth of work and senses that one is on the right track," Vincent writes to Theo in Amsterdam.