What A Bear Dreams Of

What is the story that led to this illustration? Well… at first, it might seem that the story has nothing to do with the painting, but my mind is so twisted, that, somehow, from jet-skiing, I ended up with this bear dreaming of a berry rain.

Last month, Dana, a friend of mine was so insistent about going jet-skiing on a city break in a resort not so far away, that her husband took some days off from work in the middle of the week and off they went (and I with them) to live their short exciting adventure! Reaching the hotel, they checked in and, without loosing any other minute, they rushed out, borrowed a jet-ski and went for a ride. At least so I had thought! But Dana dressed up in her new branded outfit, climbed on the jet ski and took a photogenic stance with a satisfied happy smile on her face, her blond hair messed by the wind. Her partner took several pictures of her from different angles while she was posing, faking. When she was pleased with some of the photos, she got down from the Yamaha, without even starting the engine, went onto the hotel’s deck, ordered a coffee, lighted a cigarette and, very content, started to post on instagram, facebook and where not, the wonderful pictures with her “jet-skiing” and, of course, having the time of her life! And that was all she did! She had never climbed up on the rented Yamaha again. Not then and not the following days. The many likes she got on the social media made her extremely happy. The jet-ski could wait for another time! Its mission was accomplished for now.

I know my friend and I am aware of the world we are living in, but, still, I was shocked! I was absolutely sure that, once we had reached the destination, she’ll never get down from the jet ski. She wanted it so badly! I was fooled by her exuberance! I wonder how many of our dreams, of our wished are real, these days, how much we want things for the sake of the experience, because they bring us joy and how much for posting them on social media. What gives people more pleasure, what matters: experiencing things or faking, posing for the perfect pictures while pretending of doing this or that only to gain followers or likes, shares and virtual comments? People are of many kinds, we are split in several categories but, somehow, the Facebook-Instagram-TickTok-and-the-like generation feels like gaining more and more terrain. Or maybe is it just me, being overwhelmed and, therefore, having my perceptions altered? Who knows?

I feel that, nowadays, life is very tiring for humanity, as people never have their head clear, empty of thoughts even if meditation is a trend (or, maybe, just a fad). There is always at least one thought present in our heads: to record our experiences through photos or/and videos in order to post them online and get some love and live a false feeling of belonging. How much of the authentic experience of life is lost that way? Well…I don’t know. Everything is relative and debatable and there is so much do talk on the subject. I could run my mouth for hours but I better go enjoy my day with my lovely dogs.

And since I am in a bear mood lately, I couldn’t stop thinking of bears’ life and their dreams and wishes compared to ours. They are so simple, modest, authentic beings. While we dream and want all kind of things and we are never satisfied and happy and always wish for more (a new destination, a new partner, a new job, new plasticated lips or boobs, the latest smartphone, a new car, a new branded outfit and what not) the biggest and, most likely, the only true wish of a bear is a berry rain. That wouldn’t bring them happiness as they are already happy, but it would be so fun and yum! Just that, without posting anything, anywhere!

Thank you for stopping! Wishing you many happy whimsical dreams!

Buy this art:

Europe: Artflakes

North and South America and worldwide: Society6

Yo, the Yoga Bear

Since starting the practice of yoga, I’d realized that there’s a yoga world out there: with blogs, and vlogs, and podcasts, and movies, and Tv shows, radio shows, tedEx talks, commercials, magazines, workshops, schools, courses, diplomas, yoga retreats, all kind of yoga events; an entire world with people doing yoga on a daily basis, talking about the meaning of yoga, about its origin, its principles, about centering and breathing, about chakras and subtle energies, about the perfect moment or place for doing yoga, with people aspiring to accomplish the perfect posture, the perfect alignment for the best benefits or for an awesome photo that will make an impression on social media; a world with people doing yoga on mats, of rubber or jute, personalized, non-slippery, ecological, organic, with people using top yoga brands for their outfits, props, towels, attending the best yoga studios, equipped with with best mats, best yoga bells and Tibetan bowls, having the best yoga teacher that uses the best yoga music, and the perfect yoga sequence followed by the best shavasana in town, talking about yoga benefits and living a yogic lifestyle, with yogic tea, yogic food, using yoga incense sticks, and, now and then, practicing yoga with goats, yoga with beers, and what not, as nowadays people need new and diverse things before anything else.

Being caught in this swirling yoga world, I had once tried to attain a close to perfect posture during a yoga class and I managed to tear apart my right hamstring. And that was the moment when I had realized that a change of perspective was in order. Even if I like yoga, or the idea of it, very much, I felt that something was not right with the way “the city” was practicing it. Not for me, at least. So I went out, into the wild, to find a different kind of yoga mentor then the ones I’d met till then.

And I did. After wandering to and fro for months, I had finally found Yo, the yoga bear, in a forest near my home town. Life is like that! We wander in searching for something all over the world, only to find it, after years and years, when that something had already lost its meaning, in our backyard. There are actually many things in our backyard – or in our front yard – but because they are so close and present, we oversee them and we search for them in the wide world, sometimes for a lifetime. Well… in my case it didn’t take so long, as I was lucky to find Yo after only several months. He had no definitions, no labels for anything, let alone for yoga. And he had no perfect rubber mat that he had to pay for in order to throw it away as soon as it would had become slippery. The earth was his mat. I lived more than an year with Yo and I’ve learned a lot from this experience. I’ve learned to live simple, with the thick moss carpet as my bed and the trees’ canopy as my roof, to eat only as much as I needed and mostly vegan. He thought me to be kind and understanding, especially with the bad ones; not to hurt anyone, not even an ant, neither physically, nor emotionally (and, yes, ants can be emotionally hurt); not to tell lies, except when dealing with foxes, as foxes use the truth for mean purposes and, therefore, in such situations, an alteration or reinterpretation of the truth would be best for the general good. He thought me how to connect myself to the trees’ souls, to the flickering stars, to the upside down sleeping bats or to the sightless earthworms, to everything; he taught me how to travel the world by riding a pale of wind or a crocodile-shaped cloud (not all clouds are suitable for traveling the world), or how to dissolve myself into the mists of dawn, becoming invisible so I can spy the shy fawns drinking water from the lake. He thought me how to find my inner light. One day, after one of his inspiring lessons, I started to glow. Literally. Like a firefly. Well, at least my right side did. I must work some more on the left one. I guess I still have some issues to resolve before glowing completely. And he thought me to love everyone and everything, to be content and grateful for simple things, for what I have: even for my unglowing left side, even for the birthmarks that I have and I used to hate. He told me that my skin is the sky and the birthmarks on it are the stars. Wow! I have my own galaxy on my body and it took me so many years and a bear to see it! I named it YoGalaxy.

As for the yoga postures, he didn’t teach me many, as he only knew several. He was a different kind of yogi. But there was one pose that we did daily: the Bear Balancing Pose, as we, humans, call it. He didn’t know the posture’s name. He was just doing it. And I with him. Together, happy and content and, of course, balanced. And this is the story of this painting that started with a torn hamstring.

Thank you for stopping by! Have a wonderful, happy day!