ALWANA:

On the coast of Ranapour in faraway Circadia lived Alwana. Her simplicity was that of a pebble in a murmuring mountain brook. She knew the secrets of flowers and balm, the magic of candles and incense. The language of frogs, crickets and bees were also known to her. Sunlight caressed the seven fertile slopes around Ranapour. Acacia, red beech, oak, lime, spruce, birch and sacred ash contained the essence of the universe.

Alwana touched her Singing Bowls made from seven metals to induce trance conditions for vision quests. The sacred sounds were unified with the spirit of the soothing landscape. Alwana healed with medicinal herbs, seaweed, mosses and the wave patterns of her Sacred Bowls. In her proximity, amethyst, topaz and rock-crystal sparkled with an unknown glow. She lived richly in her modesty, modestly in her richness. She knew how to handle fire and water as healing powers. As if devoted Alwana read the signs in the whorls of shells and corals.

Where butterflies fluttered as flying blossoms, she meditated in lucid consciousness. In the sandy earth she recognised the powers that also live in the abundance of water, clouds and fire. Alwana continued to draw strength from loving attention. With an inner power she experienced the peacefulness of the lagoons, felt intensely how with its tranquil waves the sea infiltrated dolphins and turtles with lucid consciousness.

a deep bass

resounds with authority

she sings the blues

Alwana saw life itself in the flood mark. She knew about the cycle of the seasons which ceaselessly breathes new life into itself, to bring slumbering seeds to germination. Alwana understood that water must spatter and tumble down in its own depth in order to become a smooth mirror. Whilst the sea was telling the faraway horizon fairy tales, Alwana placidly observed the waves without passing judgement on low tide or high tide. In tender attention Alwana was liberated of fear. Her loving was free from the pressure of the spirit with its eternal desires.

Alwana’s modest singing about pomegranate, yellow mélilot or quince always sounded as clear as ever. Even when singing that fishes and water-lily’s are understood only by the one who dares swim upstream.Then Erbou the date merchant would sullenly stare out in front of him. Ripe rice paddies were the answer to the tender fusion of water and earth. Alwana understood, but remained modest as a grain of sand in the deepest of seas. For the envious Erbou this was torment. Frequently his hand clawed for the hilt of his lethal dagger.

Envy could not harm Alwana. Quietly she mixed scented oils of daffodil, hyacinth and benzoic as sacrifice to inner peace, scattered a mixture of myrrh, saffron and rosehip on smouldering charcoal. A hummingbird followed the fragrant smokes wreaths. Erbou cursed this little miracle. Ranapour offered a peaceful sight. Fragrances of exotic fruits blended with the sweet aroma of spices. Cinnamon, clove and jasmine were an offering. Furiously, Erbou reached for his whip. Alwana remained unmoved. The whip changed into a blooming twig. Alarmed, Erbou shrank back into the shadows of the undergrowth. His voice shaking, he exclaimed: ‘ From now on I will combat your witchcraft, break your strength!’ Alwana, knowing that loving deeds do not wrinkle the pond of the heart, only smiled...

a catchy rhythm

starts out full of energy

the wind blows

His feverish eyes filled with envy, Erbou looked closely at the lovely Alwana. She looked at him and said: ‘Lord, your wishes will come true, even if the nightingale’s chant has to die !’ A peel of thunder reverberated between the vineyards and the gnarled olives. For weeks the date-merchant sent no news. Driven by greed, he finally showed up at Ranapour’s marketplace. With a drawling voice he begged Alwana to unveil the future for him from the hazes of time. Courteously Alwana pointed out the magnificent hills surrounding Ranapour. “Lord, behold how the slopes flank undulate fruitfully in the sunlight. When the white amaranth in the desert will bloom, your fields will bear fruit. Abundance will be your season’s yields.”

Then what Alwana foretold came true. Erbou gained unknown riches and esteem. His treasures glittered as the scales of sunfishes. Sparkling precious stones were as numerous as the bunches on the vines’ branches. Fabulous riches accumulated. The roll of drums reverberated, the kettledrums rumbled dully. The inhabitants of Ranapour assembled to catch but one glance of the former date merchant. Haughtily Erbou rode past them. Ranapour wrapped itself up in dispirited silence. Even the birds kept quiet...

Ranapour’s marketplace smelled of incense and honey. Disdainfully Erbou sniffed the air and sneered: "As clairvoyant you knew what was going tot happen, didn’t you ? Be off ! Never again let your shadow soil my path." Alwana left. A rainbow coloured the horizon.Finally Erbou lived a life of a recluse in a sombre citadel. Barbarian warriors kept watch with ferocious dogs, for diamonds and rubies filled the trunks and jars in Erbou’s treasure-cellars.

Despite his immense richness, Erbou was a bitter man. Around him, he saw only gossip, intriguing and flattery. His bitterness grew. Yet once in a while there was a stroke of melancholy, then Erbou remembered the simplicity of the olden days. During those vulnerable moments Erbou sent for wine to seek comfort and oblivion in intoxication. Bindweed bloomed, bear’s breech grew, Turkish turtledoves cooed. Flowers reached for the light in the countless dewdrops.

A Singing Bowl sounded three times. Alwana’s arrival was announced to Erbou by a servant. Despise and deep disgust filled the heart of the cruel sovereign. With a crash the drawbridge came down. Two grim guards brought Alwana up. Her noble attitude radiated strength. Erbou stared at her, overpowered by fear. Suddenly he threw a golden slumber at her, screaming: “I will kill you like a snake!” Grinning, Erbou signalled his guards, grabbed a smoking torch from a ring in the wall, and dragged Alwana down the spiral stairs. With a hissing sound the candles extinguished. A smell of decay rose. Erbou’s laughter drowned the chains’ clank.

A cold wind roared. In the sombre citadel dozens of slaves were busy slaughtering sheeps and pigs. Fires blazed up highly. Dancers and wrestlers practised in the inner court. Erbou sent couriers to the farthest corners of Circadia. Horsemen came and went...

the same rhythm

from the lowest

to the highest

Drunken singing drowned the inciting sounds of the violins, dancers spun savagely.Suddenly Alwana stood in the middle of the merrymakers who shrank back aghast. An explosive silence oppressed the sombre citadel. Only the roar of the flames in the fireplaces was audible. With piercing eyes Alwana looked at everybody and said to the livid Erbou: "Lord, divide your estates now ! Then ride to the mountains. An immeasurable treasure awaits you in the highest lake!" Noiselessly Alwana left the throne room.

The buzz of voices rose. "Seize her!", screamed Erbou outraged, but nothing or nobody moved. Alwana disappeared in the night. Erbou’s guests also disappeared, one after the other. Everybody had Alwana’s name on his lips.

Erbou was silent. Over the forested slopes the morning stare shone.Erbou had his finest stallion saddled. Meanwhile he commanded his bailiff to divide all his possessions, and liberate everybody. Then he spurred his horse even though at that moment the rain lashed out tempestuously. The gale roared, and pounded mercilessly. The firmament darkened, became a fury of fire. Tamarinds moaned on the muddy slopes. Thunder and lightning cursed the landscape. Swirling rivers sought new beds with thundering rumour. Erbou shivered at such threatening natural violence. Returning to the shelter of the citadel was out of question. Rocks pulverised to lethal avalanches. Tight-lipped Erbou continued his hard journey with as only protection the voice of his inner guide and his lust for the treasure. Erbou braved the swirling rivers and yawning ravines. Icy air bit with numbness. Only when the evening haze circled the uprooted pines, Erbou perceived the mountain lake. In the dark waters glowed an immense ball with silvery light. Awe filled Erbou’s heart, who for the first time felt emotion. Despite his exhaustion after a turbulent night, Erbou was glad, though he realised that all alone he would not be able to lift the treasure out of the water. The night would have to give advice. For Erbou the night was dreadful. Agitation traversed his sleep, depriving him from the clarification of soothing dreams. Underground rumbling mingled with the cawing and screeching of the night birds.Only with the coming of a new dawn did peace come into bloom. The dawn was of utmost beauty. Trees were waiting for their shadows, shaking with well-being. Cranes greeted herons, mountain torrents babbled. The first rays of sun woke up Erbou. In the lake, the reflected image of the moon had gone...

free to paint

with a broad range of colors

simple melodies