Acrylic on vellum surface paper
II. Discovering the Footprints
Along the riverbank, under the trees, I discover footprints!
Even under the fragrant grass I see his prints.
Deep in the remote mountains they are found.
These traces no more can be hidden than one’s nose, looking heavenward.
Understanding the teaching, I see the footprints of the bull. Then I learn that, just as many utensils are made from one metal, so too are myriad entities made of the fabric of self. Unless I discriminate, how will I perceive the true from the untrue? Not yet having entered the gate, nevertheless I have discerned the path.
-Nyogen Senzaki/Paul Reps
The path is identified. Colors begin to take narrative form, characters. A black v: horns of the ox. These colors and shapes will repeat themselves and lead us through the story of discovery.