feelings were running high

beauty of the colors is in their power to talk.
beauty of the colors is in their power to talk.

While listening to the flame of my candle, I saw the birth of a fairy-tale and grasped the great secret.  Beauty of the fine arts hides in the power of the colors that talk and show the inner light of the beholder.  Thus the pictures depict not the nature, but our standpoint to life.  While the beauties of nature attract always, our mind just cries for the healing touch of love in the world that hides the warmth of smile in dry tutorials on all just imaginable occasions.

fine art in reality

As I awoke, I opened my eyes and … Wow! I didn’t recognize my yard in the window … it was snowing as I awoke, and the snow was dropping the new color upon so familiar picture. The novelty gave me a real shower. Everything looked so fine now, yet the whiteness of the new mask didn’t mislead me.
A snowflake warms the heart just in the fine arts expositions where the chatter of the paper trimmings reign. The flakes of snow on my bald forehead awake the opposite emotions.

In the light of the blogging, not the novelty of my pictures, but the reciprocal links (the comments on each other posts) set light to my fireplace and show the mystery of the healing by beauty.

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