The heart speaks in the stones of a cobble. There is no such thing as the loneliness. Just look underfoot. Multitude of portraits disguise as the scattered stones. If you wish to read their story, click on what next? please.
Cracky paving was bumpy to walk, but my hardships were richly rewarded by looking underfoot. The sharp impression of something alive pierced me , so I stopped in an awe. Would I dare to set my foot upon the unknown face? The visual thoughts were the challenging. Therefore, I took a photo.
While walking down the street in a search of self, I run into a wall. I recognized a mirror in a plasterboard and thus sat back in an awe .
Do you talk to me? I questioned the wall.
It was hard to acknowledge my eyeshot. Typically, I create more colorful images, but this pale rectangle was a mirror, and the mirrors never lie – like art of Tomas
The world looks at grey-headed as the useless, and thus stimulate the laugh of the baddies at the moral philosophy .
Previous to writing that I was drawing, but the artworks needed the titles. So the penholder replaced my paintbrush. I knew the ABC then, but I truly rejoice over the reading now. That is much more than just an ability to navigate by the ABC . Time has taught me the meaning of the letters which have led me to the prayer life. So my artworks changed the eggheads into the curious first-former . Thus I am reading the Monterey Bay Holistic Alliance now:
Grace isn’t a little prayer you chant before receiving a meal. It’s a way to live. ~ Attributed to Jacqueline Winspear
The world is a dangerous place.
Not because of those who do evil,
but because of those who look on and do nothing.
- Albert Einstein
Great posts worth seeing from Tomas Karkalas: What next?
While hearing one is sick, we think about the nursing, but the mentally ill patients can only dream about such understanding and the compassion for their hardships. Thus I can’t rejoice over the consciousness of my town.
On the other hand, either being the mentally ill is something that deserves the applause out of itself? Not, of course. Then why did I feel some irritation? Either I worry just for myself (I am exactly such patient), or think about you as my brothers and sisters?
I think the picture on above perfectly share these emotions. If…when we succeed in transcending our prejudices, we insensibly enter the realm of the spiritual wonderland…
Now, let me share some of visual thoughts, let me invite you to Modus Vivendi.
Life likes the public order, and the fine arts puts that pictorially: the babyish lullabies turn to tales for the children, and the stories for the teenagers grow into the literature for the adult. If we would judge by appearance, it may look like the victory of the material world against the spirituality, yet I do not want to whine – who is the true winner? Either God, or the market?