Ascension, oil on canvas, 30 x 30 cm.
Ascension, oil on canvas, 30 x 30 cm.



In an instant,

the orgasmic tingling

of the Great Compassion

transmutes physicality

into crystalline Light,

thus releasing the

new-found frequency

to find completion in

the vortex of

universal vibration.

And meanwhile,

a gentle rain

falls upon the Earth;

cultivating awe and

aspiration in those

left behind.


(This post is dedicated to you F.B.)

The Death of AIDS.


Many would have us believe that AIDS is under control,
and that all is “normalized”.
Sure thing, bro!
(or do we just need to feel like we have moved on … ?)

AIDS has changed the world in more ways than we may possibly know. We will never fully comprehend the impact of losing so many people taken by this disease. Their contributions could have altered the face of humanity, the world of art and literature, the rearing of future leaders, the impact on communities, and the hearts of countless individuals. And this is all looking at the impact of AIDS in a broad perspective. It is a disease that, regardless of our own personal admissions, affects us all. However, behind the public fray of communal loss, social change and medical advances, lies the experience of the individual who must still awaken each day with the acknowledgment that they carry inside of them an evident ticking time bomb. No different from the rest of us who live with our own mortality, but distinct in that their clock has a name. That name is AIDS.

– Christina Landles-Cobb (USA)

(The above quote is an excerpt from the introduction to my book “JISEI”.)

We all want the AIDS crisis to be over. We have desperately wanted not to have to read anymore about crimes against humanity in many countries and regions, about the travails of Wikileaks, about Iraq, about Afghanistan, about financial crises, about chemtrails, about HAARP … and now about AIDS. In media actuality, these problems simply do not exist anymore; and they perhaps never really existed at all. Time to move on to the next media hype that carpet bombs the surface of the latest travesty. Just remember — that there is a whole generation that was at war against AIDS, that buried their lovers, husbands, wives and children – one after the other, that had their lives turned upside down believing in “an eventual cure” and who are still having to battle the effects of time, harmful medicines and an embattled aged body and mind. Not many in the West are dying of AIDS now … but there is an entire generation that is still living with the AIDS syndrome; every day. Those beautiful men and women, artists, authors, actors and everyday citizens have aged decades in their bodies and consciousnesses — because of The Virus and the “so-called Miracle Drugs” wreaking havoc for so long. There are no guarantees in Life, and the measure of a successful life lies not in the number of years one has lived on this planet. Many incredible persons have died “before their time”. But on this day — if not otherwise — take a moment to reflect on the war against AIDS — i.e. a war of consciousness; and both those who have succumbed, and those who sit with the scars 20-30+ years after the media hype first started.

And of course, support the young persons who have not lived with the AIDS virus for more than just a few years … who have dreams of achievement and success, equality, a life without harassment for their hiv-status, and the chance to be young-growing older with a sense of hope.

– Adam Donaldson Powell, World AIDS Day.

(oil painting “A Cutter’s Glow”, oil on canvas, 50×50 cm., Adam Donaldson Powell)

The approach of Winter in Norway: we just had our first snowfall of the season. Time to curl up and read novels and poetry books, and to write.


(oil on canvas, 50 x 50 cm)

to my beloved tor:

white roses lay neatly placed
upon the hardened snow —
just centimeters from where
the still-absent tombstone
will one day proudly loom
over wayward leaves, single
blades of grass and stalwart
perennials in rainbow shades.
the first tear drools, then
streams down my wind-burned
cheeks and others quickly
follow suit in search of
the meaning of life and death,
as well as other unanswered
mysteries prompted by your
almost coincidental passing.
friends urge me to go on
with my life and speak of
the treasure of memories and
shared experiences that have
made me the unique human
expression that I have become,
and which will further shape
the lives of others I touch.
but I believe in the worms
which industriously toil at
converting your precious bones
and ashes to fertile soil which
will nourish the flowers my
successors will one day plant
when I, quite coincidentally,
find the answers you now covet.

(from my book entitled: “Jisei: death poems and daily reflections by a person with AIDS, 2013)