Shinsunghwa: The Visualization of Emanuel Swedenborg’s Spiritual Energy (2020)
What is ShinsungHwa?
ShinsungHwa is a unique form of spiritual art where drawings emerge through spontaneous, flowing movements. Artists tap into their subject’s energy and let Qi(氣) guide their hands, creating geometric patterns that serve as a universal language.
An Explanation of Emanuel Swedenborg’s ShinsungHwa
In Emanuel Swedenborg’s ShinsungHwa, the ‘path to the spiritual core’ stretches toward the highest regions of the image. The ‘symbol of light‘ became so prominent that I needed to add another sheet at the top—the original paper couldn’t contain it. Energy from the ‘spiritual core’ wraps around him in gentle, glowing waves. Below his feet, sharp material forces create a jagged foundation.
But here’s what really gets me: the ‘spiritual core’ isn’t a destination—it’s the source. Energy doesn’t just flow toward it; it pours out from it, reaching every corner of the image. Swedenborg has become something like a spiritual lighthouse, channeling infinite power and spreading that light everywhere around him.
Quote
“Love consists in desiring to give what is our own to another and feeling his delight as our own.”
“Kindness is an inner desire that makes us want to do good things even if we do not get anything in return.”
“The nature of heaven is to provide a place there for all who lead good lives, no matter what their religion may be.”
“This I can declare: things that are in heaven are more real than things that are in the world.”
“The inner self is as distinct from the outer self as heaven is from earth.”
“Peace has in it trust in the Lord, that He governs all things, provides all things, and leads to a good end.”
“Love comes into being through useful service to others.”
“Heaven is not located on high, but where the good of love is, and this resides within a person, wherever he or she might be.”
The Curious Mind Who Spoke to Angels
In the cobblestone streets of 18th-century Stockholm, an odd figure made his daily trek to work. Emanuel Swedenborg sported the powdered wig of his era, clutched scientific instruments under his arm, and had one peculiar habit—he chatted with people no one else could see. To his neighbors, he was either a brilliant inventor or completely mad. Maybe both.
A Boy Who Asked Too Many Questions
Born in 1688, Emanuel grew up where curiosity was currency. His father, Bishop Jesper Swedberg, didn’t just tolerate questions—he encouraged them. While other kids wondered why grass was green, young Emanuel pondered how souls worked, what made clocks tick, and whether other worlds existed beyond the stars.
This hunger for answers sent him down rabbit holes that would make modern inventors jealous. While his peers learned courtly dances, Emanuel sketched flying machines, dissected how brains functioned, and revolutionized copper mining techniques. He was that kid who’d dismantle a perfectly good clock just to see its guts, then rebuild it better than before.
The Man Who Could Fix Anything
Long before Swedenborg became known for his otherworldly writings, he was Sweden’s resident problem-solver. Need better salt transportation? Emanuel designed a specialized cart. Want to understand metal behavior under heat? He produced studies that transformed Swedish mining. The government was so impressed they appointed him to the Board of Mines, where he spent decades turning everyday headaches into elegant solutions.
His mind operated like clockwork—precise, methodical, relentless. He cranked out over 150 works covering everything from anatomy to astronomy. When he studied the human brain, he made observations that wouldn’t be verified by science for centuries. He theorized about neurons and brain functions while most people still believed thoughts originated in the heart.
The Day Everything Shifted
At 56, something remarkable happened to Emanuel—at least according to him. While dining alone in a London tavern, he claimed a mysterious figure appeared and announced he’d been chosen to reveal spiritual truths to humanity. From that moment on, Emanuel insisted he could visit heaven and hell as casually as strolling to the corner store.
This wasn’t some fleeting vision or one-time event. For the remaining 27 years of his life, Emanuel claimed regular chats with angels, deceased relatives, and historical heavyweights like Aristotle and Luther. He documented these encounters with the same meticulous care he’d once reserved for copper ore analysis.
What He Found Beyond
Emanuel’s afterlife wasn’t your typical Sunday school version. No harp-strumming angels lounging on clouds, no endless lake of fire. Instead, he described realms that mirrored people’s true nature. Kind souls naturally drifted toward like-minded communities, while the self-absorbed found themselves in darker, more troubled territories.
His masterpiece, “Heaven and Hell,” reads like a supernatural travel guide. He wrote about couples reuniting after death, children raised by angel-teachers, and communities where people lived according to their deepest desires. It was both reassuring and unsettling—suggesting that our inner character matters more than rule-following.
The Backlash That Followed
Naturally, not everyone bought Emanuel’s claims. Church leaders branded his ideas dangerous. Traditional Christians feared his teachings undermined established doctrine. The Swedish government even attempted to ban his books before backing down.
Skeptics noted that his spiritual revelations conveniently began as his scientific career wound down. Some wondered if isolation and stress had cracked his mind. Others suspected he was chasing fame or profit—though he frequently gave books away free.
Even his friends were baffled. They knew Emanuel as a sharp, rational man who could discuss complex engineering one minute and describe conversations with dead philosophers the next. Talk about cognitive dissonance.
Why His Story Still Matters
Whether Emanuel actually conversed with angels remains debatable, but his ideas found eager audiences. After his 1772 death, followers established the New Church (Swedenborgianism), which survives today. His influence spread beyond religious circles—writers like William Blake and Helen Keller drew inspiration from his work, and his mind-spirit connections influenced early psychology.
What’s most striking about Emanuel Swedenborg is how he seamlessly blended the practical with the mystical. The same brain that designed mining improvements also mapped heaven’s geography. He proved that curiosity about the physical world and wonder about spiritual mysteries aren’t mutually exclusive.
Today, Stockholm visitors can spot statues and memorials honoring this unusual character who spent half his life improving Swedish industry and the other half allegedly chatting with angels. Whether you see him as visionary or eccentric, Emanuel Swedenborg reminds us that history’s most fascinating figures are often those who refuse to color inside the lines.
