Stories at the Park 4: inspired by Sheba Blitz

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About Sheba

Sheba Blitz
Sheba Blitz

Sheba Blitz is a SL and RL artist who exclusively paints Mandalas, and her who have captivated me since I first encountered it at Kayly Iali’s Gallery 24.

Mandalas are ancient and mystical symbols of the universe. And represent the way of the “peaceful path”. Classically in the form of a circle (the Cosmos) enclosing a square (Earthbound matter).

Sheba’s Mandalas generally contain what is called a quarternity or a multiple of four. This squaring of the circle is a common archetypal image of wholeness and order. Mandalas are perceived as sacred spaces and remind the viewer of the immanence of sanctity in the universe and its potential to themselves. Used for meditation, contemplation, healing and pure visual pleasure.

Sheba was born and lives in Australia; she has studied, explored and accumulated many Art Diplomas from different art processes over the years but always returns to her love of geometrical hand painted mandala designs in mixed media. As someone who loves mandala art, I’m elated she agreed to join us at Holly Kai Park.

Stories and Poems

Wings of Fire, a ghazal – Aoife Lorefield

Inspired by Astral Wings

We see the phoenix always with wings of fire
rising from the ash, triumphant, her wings on fire.

Yet the circle contains also her collapse,
the death extinguishing her wings of fire.

Before the collapse, her immolation
as she is consumed, destroyed, losing those wings of fire.

In her transformation, her sweet enchantment,
she sings a joyful song and folds her wings of fire.

To rise again, new-made, brighter than the sun,
her feathered arms held wide in wings of fire.

As I in words might pierce the centre point,
my lines extending out like wings of fire.

Mandala – R. Crap Mariner

Don't Worry, Be Happy Mandala
Don’t Worry, Be Happy Mandala

Inspired by  all of Sheba’s Mandalas

The monks bend over the floor and rub styluses against their sticks of coloured chalk.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.

Slowly, the wheel forms, and together they create intricate symmetrical whorls and loops and bends and curves.

The monks hum and chant as they build the patterns. Not once do they speak. Only through their prayers do they keep the flow.

They change direction all at once, like a flock of birds shifting in the wind. Coming closer at the centre, scratching circles of shifting colour. And then, they finish.

The master nods, takes out a broom, and sweeps the chalk away.

Mandala Revenge – R. Crap Mariner

Bell Dorje Mandala
Bell Dorje Mandala

Inspired by all of Sheba’s Mandalas

The Dalai Lama went to the United Nations, and he made a plea for his homeland. He was treated well, but China never let up its stranglehold, and nobody did anything to stop them.

So, he sent Buddhist monks to make sand mandalas in cities around the world. A few aficionados enjoyed the process, but most people saw them on the evening news or the web, and then forgot about it.

The monks swept away their mandalas, and spread the hidden neurotoxins into the air.

“Choke on it, world,” mumbled the Dalai Lama, putting on a gas mask and laughing.

Threshold – Caledonia Skytower

Inspired by Passage of Light Mandala

Eyes open, much too early. The play of shadow on shadow sums to darkness, and eyes relax to closed, relieved. The Threshold is not here, not today, not yet.

Eyes open, a little later. The contrast is a more distinct now, light making its noiseless entrance into the restive darkness. Eyes close anyhow. The Threshold is on its way, but has not yet arrived.

Eyes open. It is time. The delicate light of morning shines cooling radiance, illuminating details hidden in the dark. The Threshold invites passage into wakefulness, and punctuates the eternal cycle that balances day, night, and life.


Okay, fine …  R. Crap Mariner

(Because we nettled him into writing about George once more.)

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.

After he was suspended for pooping on the swab deck, he tried being a Buddhist monk.

They shaved his head, gave him robes, and asked him to chant all day and night. He got pretty good at it.

It was when they handed him chalk and asked him to make mandalas that George ran into trouble.

Instead of scraping the chalk to make beautiful patterns, he drew dirty pictures on the temple’s floor and walls.

Rubbing his hand through the stubble on his scalp, he returned to his ship.

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