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Joel Codina Clusella

@joel.codina

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@consciousplanet
sound is a debt paid to silence, saying the pranava pays it in full.. om̐ ॐ

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hamsa
the symbol "H" that acts as a "table" for the letters to stand in, divides between the bottom vowels (+ semivowels) and consonants on the top (which go by anatomical order, and the square box marks the possibility of mahaprana [added exhalation] also).

the spiral is there as an aesthetic element and also because in sanskrit short (laghu) and long (guru) sounds, can get combined to fit into a specific poetic meter, so if you go seeing for each meter length of poetic verse, how many combinations of short and long sound are possible, the hemachandra succesion arises. (in the west known as fibonacci)
as explained by a mathematician in this video:

https://youtu.be/siFBqH-LaQQ

you can see the AUM̐(ॐ) mantra goes through that spiral (from the bottom-up, for the A resonates in navel, U in chest and M in neck).

the whole alphabet fits on the hand, in a kaara nyasa fashion, where vowels are on palm and consonants are in finger sections, joints and sibilants above.

maybe its beautiful to join the hands together in namaste after seeing this :)

to read more:

https://sites.google.com/view/sanskritsound by @joel.codina

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4 months ago

linginī omkara rupinī by @joel.codina

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a month ago

vairagya

https://sites.google.com/view/sanskritsound

the body is related with the night,
the mind with the day,
and the Sandhya is between them.
now: the left side of the body is related with moon, the right with sun. and also, in the maihar tradition, when you play the rudra vīna the right hand does the plucking of the strings that makes a humming sound much like a vowel would, and the left hand does the pitch shifting, comparable to the consonants modulating speech.

between vowels and consonants? by @joel.codina

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2 months ago

by @joel.codina

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5 months ago

my mind is my skin by @joel.codina

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6 months ago

by @joel.codina

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6 months ago

URN
mortar and pestle as cloud and drop
(ceramic pounder, wool and alabaster)
-
URNA
morter i mà de morter com a núvol i gota
(picador ceràmic, llana i alabastra)

poem:

this body is an empty page of your secret book
your poem starts in this cage but ends beyond look. by @joel.codina

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2 years ago

forms emanate from the cloud of thought, in the womb that is the mindscape

CAT:
formes emanen del núvol de pensament, en l'úter que és el paisatge mental

___________________________
shambhavā
Māra
Mahodari
shanta rasa
"La buidor regalima del no-res."
"shunyata drips from kumbhaka"
dripping void
Aham
vitarka
vimarsha
meghah vritti
vishva yoni
shakta tilaka / sindur
sharpness of buddhi (intellect)
visarga
conception, birth, realisation, death
vishva garbha griha
kalpana
garbhakoṣa
amudra lingam
namah
consciousness valley
flight of passerina ciris
Sīmurgh flight
anakhya
ritambhara pragna
campana còsmica (cosmic bell)
anahata nadam
un riu mou més que només fang
niradhara (without ground)
sushumna
shunya-karuna-garbha (void womb of compassion)
padma mudra
purnahanta
sthambhavi
sa (in a whisper)

_____________________

poem:

the sea waves crashing on the shore are your tabla rhythm
the river dissolving onto it is the tanpura
and the voice that sings melodies are the clouds above
the voice that sounds it, storm and forms by @joel.codina

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3 years ago

Ombra en raja
The shade in pour
La sombra vierte

el porró és un ull que plora al veure't

poem:

about dreaming i have dreamt
'twas such my exploration
that on the rising of the notion
that there was a bee-like motion
flying off as every thought
round and round my being ought
to be come as one together
to become the one to gather
you and all into my closeness
you in all. thats my achieval.
this dream is with eyes open. by @joel.codina

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5 years ago

May you blossom to your fullest potential

poem:

to make this breath not loss,
i chant this tune
as i remember having heard it
from the bottom of your heart, i sing by @joel.codina

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5 years ago

Les gotes de la pluja han fet les fulles

poems:

each letter a flower,
each phrase its spring,
what words bloom out of season?
-
el sabor del saber:
dolç de lletres i mots
que son fruits d'un arbre
que creix en pensar. taken in Museu de Ciències Naturals de Barcelona by @joel.codina

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6 years ago

its said one of the etymologies of Kālī is kalpana, which means fantasy. You can see reality as a fantasy of Kali, everything happens in her head.. and then how is it that there are multiple beings (you,me etc,) if everything is the one goddess? She must be schizophrenic!
a way of seeing coexistence between the unity of God and the multiplicity of beings

poetry:

Hom, el mirall del saló

Hi ha un gran mirall a l’interior,
Reflexe i reflexió.
Ell s'encarrega de rebotar
Meus dubtes retorn a mi.

I de fronte li demano
Com ser jo com ell i prou:
Sens recel, i sense queixes
Quals malviuen dins, amb mi.

Anhelós de canvi, m’hi espitxo
Així que faig que me n'hi vaig
I pel davant i pel darrere,
pel damunt i el sota alhora,

Entro; sóc el de l'altre cantó?
Noto pas cap canvi dintre meva
M’hi sento com ho feia sempre
I si m’hi fiqués al centre?

Allí és en el punt de la inversió,
Que l’etern m’apareix fix.
El plegat de nervis i d'excitació
Malaurats fan que, sens previ avís

Ruc de mi etzibo-li un colp que
Mils d’escletxes formant remolins
Se'm trenca, en mils de bocins
I jo de mentre, ben fins al dins.

Espetec i allunyamenta:
Solsament hi ha el trencadís
Vec enllà fer pampallugues
Geomètrics tots colorits

Cadascuna amb el seu gir
I també la seva via,
Orbitant des d’aquell dia,
I jo a l’aquí, faig un sospir.

M’hi distancio de la resta
Menys dues, em queden prop
Tenyint-me la meitat de groc;
l’altra mig en ombra resta

I és en durant l’oscura
Que alçant mons ulls enlaire
Batejo tessel·les, que a l’altura
M’hi giren des fa no gaire.

Malgrat nou començament,
Tanco’ls ulls i dins la ment
Les reuneixo dins de mi
En l’estona del son diví.

I és tan sols en la desvetlla
Que el meu somni, com a crit
Sobre aquest paper l’escric
Pel succés prengui rememoria.

Aquí és on jo ara visc i,
M'hi he fet casa, m’hi he fet llit,
família i esperit
També un futimé d’amics,

I per quan que jo haiga desaperescut
Text malentès i perdívol
Brolli d’entre les nocturnes,
Fins a ser de nou el gris

Del gran mirall a l’interior,
Qu’enfrontes, per veure’t sense por.
I s'encarrega de reflectir
Els dubtes retorn a tu. by @joel.codina

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9 years ago