There is no such thing as loneliness, teach us the heart. – Just look under your feet. Many portraits disguised as scattered stones. Click “what’s next?” to read their story
the pavement of the old town looked nice, but it was very difficult to go. anyway, now i’m happy for those troubles because I had to watch closely where I put my feet. That is why I saw the eyes looking at me from the pavement . Already the raised leg stagnates in the air. Would I dare to set my foot upon the stranger? I just couldn’t step on that unknown face .
Therefore I took a picture of him and share it with you as a reminder “Be more attentive. The Earth Speaks . It Lives “
Visual thinking is always a slogan worth reflecting on.
While walking down a street in a search of self, I run into a wall by recognizing self in a plasterboard that sat me back in an awe .
– Do you talk to me? – I questioned the wall.
The eyeshot was silent like a mirror, and the mirrors never lie .
I used to do a lot of painting, but at exhibitions, I needed to give paintings names. So I had to retrain and become a poet. I see peace in the mirror, but the world sees the elders as a burden.
What is it? How do you call it? The rhetoric of wisdom, or the whims of personalities?
When I learned how to hold a pencil, getting to know the elementary enabled me to draw a sketch. Years have passed … now I have long enjoyed reading, the real art of understanding the world and myself. And that’s much more than browsing the internet for ABC links. Time taught me to know the letters that led me to the life of prayer. The sense of human being opened the door to the mystery of silence.
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?
I think the picture will reflect my emotions well.
While hearing that somebody is sick, we start to think about nursing, but the mentally ill patients can only dream about such understanding. Their hardships look like a crime to te world. Therefore I can’t rejoice over the consciousness of my town.
On the other hand, either the being the mentally ill is something deserving the applause?
Not, of course. Then why did I’m irritating?
when we succeed in transcending our prejudices, we insensibly will enter the realm of the spiritual wonderland.
Now, let me share some of the visual thoughts by inviting 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?