Cost of the Beauty

While talking about the fine arts, we shift away from the countless sketches to the timeless values. Meanwhile the sketches reveal the cost of these masterpieces… The artists typically silence that. It’s easy to explain such behavior. Plus the “humbleness” is the nice feature, yet let me to break this polite rule of the art showrooms now. What you see on above is just a sketch, so to speak, the burgeon that will burst into blossom one day… maybe. At a moment we can just to guess what will be framed and hung on a wall one day, yet the approximate cost is already clear.
See a story below.
We were driving home… so to speak, while my wife was driving, I was taking the photos. So my flash gave her trouble, made the driving hard, yet there was no hint of impatience in her face. While looking at my blurred shot now, I just can’t not to think either my arts are worthy wife’s patients – our whole life. While examining the sketch, I clearly see how near we were the crash. I recognize a hint to some face that looks at me. Whose is this? What was the message?

the test of the fabulous stories


Wow, just fabulous stories filled the room… while viewing my album. The memory of the past events proved the reality of the impossibility. The recognized as a disabled for life arranged lots of art shows all over his country and the abroad. Thus the truth became a test to me. I could either boast my colorful biography or recall the people who helped me to stand up and care of me until now


You see my wife Elzbieta on this shot. The photo was taken in exhibition of my works. Yet such truth would be the lie. I just signed the canvases that were planted in my heart by Elzbieta and blossomed out there. Not I but she was the artist worthy of praise. The above statement is not a sound bite, but the truth. Just think. While one bothered his head about the framing of the pictures, the other cared of the flowers in the garden, worried over their comfort under the snow, did everything for the flowers not freeze. Which of them was the artist?

What spreads the gratitude and inspires the awe? Is that the paints on a paper, or the living by faith?

Talking walls

I like my town. There are lots of houses that look more attractively than the picture on the above. Therefore this photo may confuse you a bit. You may ask, what for you should look at what’s out of shape?

The mix-up over the above will dissipate at the moment the diary will be recognized here. Just think. While the picture of the happy youth pleases the eyes, the diaries of the sick touch the heart. The diaries lead us through the economic downturn to the riches of the inner life. They are the magical bridges from the current mess to the homeland of the dreams.

snow was white once upon a time

This blog was named Art Mirror, and the pictures depict indeed what I am looking at, yet what did reveal my artworks in the concrete?
Snow was white … once upon a time. Thus the photo comforts, yet that reminder brings the tears to the eyes, and the last shames me to say it, but I.. I fell into the trap, because I worry just for myself at a moment: while talking about the eternities and the essential human oneness in Spirit, I fear the fees for my Internet. That’s ugly. Is it not the selfishness? … It was no wonder for your silence was the only response to my ask for the support . You were very polite, meanwhile I dared to begg and spotted the whiteness of the snow…

The sinkhole from the photo stares at me. Lots of faces may be discovered in this shot, yet can I identify myself with my artworks?! … So what? … The dawn will come, and that’s for sure as the needless disabled will leave this earth one day. In the light of the above, the Art Mirror is like the autumn leaves – though they were the colorful, but that beauty not escaped the destiny of the mud underfoot.

THANK YOU

Dear Friends.

My heart is overfilled with the gratitude to Mel Avila Alarilla. I just have no words to put my emotions in plain words. So let me talk short. Dear friends, just click … here and see for yourself. I hope you will have a good time too.

THANK YOU dear Mel Avila Alarilla. I accepted your post as the clear evidence of God’s love and care for us. Thank you.

ongoing miracle of life

While viewing the picture, I was reminded about the ongoing metamorphosis in our life, and it was not some speculation but the truth, because I examined not a shot, but swept my whole life.
Such approach enabled me to experience the real miracle. The unrepresentable view warmed my heart. Wow, this metamorphosis occurred so unexpectedly! While looking underfoot, I recognized the ages that were looking at me. Thus I was humbled and comforted. The picture helped me to turn aside from temporal problems – to exchange my worries for the gratitude for being alive. My eyes blossomed out with the smile. The above was even hard to trust. The disabled didn’t mourn for help, but started to dance. The real miracles happen when we look at the life through the eyes of faith. Just think.

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definition of the Earth

While searching for the words to define the picture above, I got an inspirational email. It was started with the quote: “Home is not where you live, but where they understand you” This Christian Morganstern’s statement just perfectly described the mood I had while taking a shot. Therefore I’m glad to share the quote with you now. What’s interesting here? This shot was taken while visiting my father-in-law, yet I hear the same truth in the eyes of the homeless cats under my window and identify myself with their mew. The last may sound strangely to you, but that vision touched my heart so kindly that the snow in my yard melt immediately for the flowers could raise their heads again. Wow! The picture came out the glorious. I need to define just the words “my yard”. That’s the definition of the Earth. !– /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:”Arial Black”; panose-1:2 11 10 4 2 1 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:186; mso-generic-font-family:swiss; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:647 0 0 0 159 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:””; margin:0cm; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:”Times New Roman”; mso-fareast-font-family:”Times New Roman”; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;} p {mso-margin-top-alt:auto; margin-right:0cm; mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto; margin-left:0cm; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:”Times New Roman”; mso-fareast-font-family:”Times New Roman”;} @page Section1 {size:612.0pt 792.0pt; margin:3.0cm 1.0cm 2.0cm 3.0cm; mso-header-margin:1.0cm; mso-footer-margin:1.0cm; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} –>

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