Foreword

I see small groups of like-minded people
aspiring for the light of consciousness scattered around the world.
I see the fine web of vibration woven from their consciousness embrace the Earth.
We are all awakening, and I know that we recognise each other.

Photo: László Haris

Unfolding

Reality has multiple layers.
The inattentive eye only sees the surface, a single dimension.
To notice multiple layers, Multiple-level attention is needed.
I live and experience as many levels and dimensions as the levels I am contemplating.

Multiple exposition
is the technical equivalent of this multiple-level attention.

Material reality, which the physical eye grasps during photography, is simple:
the sparkle of light on water, the structure of bare boughs.
These are obvious and recognisable forms.
The reality of bare facts.

However, for multiple-level attention, the elements of the physical world
are not merely what they seem to be.
multiple-level attention always seeks what is still there behind the easily recognisable and the appearance.

From the infinite multitude of opposites and variations,
I always keep choosing by directing my attention.
Whatever my attention is directed at, I soak it up, I pick it up.
Whatever I direct my attention at, I become it.

I walk out to the island after an unusual heavy winter rainshower.
My feet sink into the mud with a squelching sound, I’m dodging the puddles.
The sun comes out and light sparkles in the reflecting surface of the pool.
I see and I sense the mud, as I nearly get stuck in it.
but my attention is directed at the reflecting sparkles of light,
and I’m not going to let anything divert me from this sight.

My mind is void and I am conscious of my own breathing.
I am entering the state of alert attention,
where my connection is stable with the source that keeps me alive,
and which I share with all living beings.

In the state of connection an energy-existence
immeasurably larger than my physical existence takes control,
opens my sight, directs my hand.

I am just standing and observing.
I am breathing.
I am present.
Then I look into the camera and my hand moves,
because it is directed by another kind of intelligence beyond the mind.
These pictures cannot be composed or designed in advance.
The only option is to observe and to be present.
And the pictures are made.
They are being made.
Each one is a surprise.

Meanwhile, my mind is unable to judge
what layers are superimposed in the frames.
It does not matter – then, in that moment.

What really matters is the enraptured process of the free flow of life,
which washes and fills my entire being.
As if I were a transparent and permeable, malleable material,
through which the world rushes in and flows out
to the rhythm of my breath.

In this expanded existence my attention, like a filter,
perceives and keeps everything
that vibrates on the same wavelength as its own.
In the clarified, empty inner space
the external equivalent of my concentrated attention is light.

Light, which sparkles on the surface of materials,
and thus takes on a more or less definite shape.
A sparkling point on a wet meadow
among the blades of grass on a clear morning,
a vibrant string of pearls in the pools filling the small pits of the mud-field,
a dazzling spot where the Danube and the pebbly beach meet
in the sharp sunlight of the late morning,
and a blurred, obscurely stretching shape on the surface of the ice
in the pale light of a January afternoon.

As on these reflecting surfaces
this endlessly rich and delightful view of the materialisation of light
is revealed to my attention,
in the silent and expanded crystalline inner space of my being
the delicate motion of the life-energy that keeps my life in motion,
endless in its source, becomes distinctly perceptible.

That is how correspondence is being created
between the natural phenomena of light that are in the external focus of my attention
and the energetic phenomena that are in the internal focus of my attention.

To create in this state of correspondence
brings on the silent rapture of falling in love with the world.

I photocopy the photographs and mirror them.
Then I observe and breathe again.
I am present.
I am waiting.
I am waiting for the opening,
for the enraptured state of falling in love with existence.

When I am completely filled with silence,
my eye begins to see, my body begins to feel.
The hand suddenly moves,
because it is directed by another kind of intelligence beyond the mind.
I start cutting.
Then I piece the cut parts together.
It’s not the physical eye that sees.
My sight faithfully obeys
The will of another seer.
I am cutting, I am piecing together, and the light-formation reveals itself.

The order-creating gesture of mirror-symmetric composition
makes the light and shadow phenomena visible,
which have already been present
but impossible to perceive because of their latent state.
A multitude of power formations, nature spirits
climb out of the fabric of light and dark patterns.
Elsewhere, forms resembling buildings, spatial structures
develop from the interwoven layers of natural reality.
The possibilities of interpretation are nearly infinite
depending on
where I’m directing my attention:
The nodes of light-condensations,
the veiled spots of the more obscure layers,
the hard shapes of darknesses.
Focusing on structure, I find spatial experience,
concentrating on creature-like formations
I yearn for conversation.
But whether I focus on spatial or on organic forms,
All of these compositions serve as a gate.

If I function in a creative connection,
I am a stretched rope, a stair, a gate
between the various levels of consciousness.

Art makes you conscious.
It reminds, makes one realise that man is an immortal spirit,
eternal light that has moved into a temporary bodily form.
It invites to gradually unfold into an immeasurably larger reality,
to expand.