Tag Archives: painting

Forgive

“My brother used to ask the birds to forgive him; that sounds senseless but it is right; for all is like the ocean, all things flow and touch each other; a disturbance in one place is felt at the other end of the world.”
Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

Art by Armando Veve.

Thursday’s quote

“Light is the left hand of darkness
and darkness the right hand of light.
Two are one, life and death, lying
together like lovers in Kemmer,
like hands joined together,
like the end and the way.”
Ursula K. Le Guin (October 21, 1929 – January 22, 2018),
The Left Hand of Darkness

 

Art by Édouard Manet.

Engleza de joi/ Longing

Longing = a yearning desire.

“It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are thoroughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger after them.”
George Eliot

 

Art by Aleksandr Golovin.

 

 

What is your word?

If you were to be enclosed in one word, what would that be?
We are already enclosed in small words, small events, small thoughts making up a bigger picture. But what if you respond to only one word?

My word is freedom. I know of nobody being free, but in our world populated with clouds that sweep away the silence of the sky above blue lilacs of amaranthine Spring, I am free. My freedom is but at the words’ length of a magic rub of the lamp of imagination.

Without freedom we cannot feel the wind’s promiscuous touch as if at ripe flowers and leaves, without freedom we cannot be as young as yesteryear’s roses. We cannot see the Autumn climbing up the vines and the heartbeat of the moon, alive and beckoning.

Only with freedom of vision and thought we can unleash our unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful world inside of us.
“Everybody has a secret world inside of them, I mean everybody. All of the people in the whole world, I mean everybody – Inside them they’ve got unimaginable, magnificent, wonderful, stupid, amazing worlds….” – Neil Gaiman

You cannot paint in colors and words unless your mind is free to travel to your imaginary legendary lands between the corner of sunset and the verge of dawn. Unless your heart dances at the tune hummed by a water-lily. Unless your mind is raving at the wild immaculate trees. With freedom and broken dreams you can do anything. The shards of olden dreams are lavish land for new unbroken dreams.

“A painting to me is primarily a verb, not a noun, an event first and only secondarily an image.”- Elaine de Kooning
A painting is not a noun, it is a verb – to love. To love with fierce freedom and lovely despair of losing one’s self into the loving.
In love we are maneuvering a human mechanism that at times refuses to work…That is clear, but the trying is enchanting. Buckets of enchantment color ethereal worldly beings in agonizing freedom and…love.

 

Art by Gustave Adolphe Mossa.

Engleza de joi/ Mistake

Mistake = an act or judgement that is misguided or wrong.

“I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.
Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You’re doing things you’ve never done before, and more importantly, you’re Doing Something.
So that’s my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody’s ever made before. Don’t freeze, don’t stop, don’t worry that it isn’t good enough, or it isn’t perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.” – Neil Gaiman

 

Art by Gertrude Alice Kay.

Engleza de joi/ Hurdle

Hurdle = one of a series of upright frames over which athletes in a race must jump; a problem or difficulty that must be overcome.

“Love is a tenacious adventure… Real love is one that triumphs lastingly, sometimes painfully, over the hurdles erected by time, space and the world.” – Alain Badiou

 

Art by Andrea Kowch.

December light

December is what we are
When love glistens back
the light in the baubles.

We have the White and the Words.
Words that move mountains
tiptoe to touch the stars
whet the wondrous luster of the sea
travel with the wind
glimmer with the moon
Feel not the rejection and foible
of the world.

Words are a soft warm pillow
on which I rest
my threadbare soul
that trod naked
on paths of ice
and thorns.

Words keep my bloodshed
clean on a stave
and in hues of red
a song is made…

 

Art by Toshio Ebine.

What can I give you?

What can I give you? I am the blue
as imagined by a blind
and the roots of knowledge
as watered by a scholar.

I am the yellow
wind and the mauve
respond of light
perched
in the ubiquitous trees
tethered in the clouds
that barely scratch
the sky.

I am the green
storm and colorless waves
that wished upon a mountain
to break water in tryst
with the sun.

Not by blindness
we can reorder colors
but by the painting of a soul
in a moment tender
as the liquid moon
is quivering above the forest.

 

Art by Jan Schmuckal.

 

Engleza de joi/ Marsh

Marsh = an area of low-lying land which is flooded in wet seasons or at high tide, and typically remains waterlogged at all times.

“You’re a fire person. What you’re most like is marsh-fire; (…) you got witch-oil in your soul.”
Philip Pullman, Northern Lights

Art by Michael Cheval.