Soundlessness is not the peace

The fight for the Freedom of the Press has not yet freed a man from dependence on the Google search engine – people still have a slight desire to understand each other in an effort to be heard.

Gratitude for daily bread makes our lives.

Thought for the Day

By claiming love TO ALL PEOPLE we unconsciously divide them into the associates and the opponent.

Poets love all people. Unfortunately, fine art does not create love. On the contrary, creation changes love into the angry rhetoric of politicians: the publicly declared unity of people is practically broken down into fans of the artist and lovers of other styles. Instead of hugging, people start arguing with each other about whose tastes are better. Let us remember the saying “the way to hell is based on good wishes”. Our good intentions lead us to hell. Does Facebook escape this?
We see blog posts either without comments or with conflicting opinions

the snow is white or what makes the blogging priceless

My willingness to report something good forced me to look around more attentively.  That’s why I love the blogging. I have discovered …the snow was white. Wow! The above truth was only sunny news of today and it was not left unnoticed DUE YOUR INTEREST  in my posts.  Thank you dear readers for that precious support to stay positive.  Your presence transform complaints into the greetings.  While our press  daily reports only bad news and informs the citizens that their life would become much harder next year,   I found the ability to enjoy Nature’ wisdom once again due to you. Therefore though it’s cold outside and the wind bites now, I do not  whimper but question what could be better than such state of things? Just think. That (the cold) means all  worms (the garden pests) would be frozen (killed) for the future flowers could safely raise up their heads.

Now I could make the detailed list of hardships we meet with, yet that would look totally improperly in the light of the rapidly forthcoming holiday. Thus let’s  repeat  the positive events that still dwell in my surroundings.

1) the snow is white.  2) the wind conserves the future to future and thus is the freezing   3) I am still alive and wish to say something positive. I welcome you to my picture gallery It will grow.


While putting my pictures on a blog, I was silent about the location of much more inspiring colors. That was so indeed, but now let me apologize for my selfishness. Let me uncover the secret. The most astounding artwork can be found in the magical window that gaze at you from under each post. That’s the page for your comments.

Yes, that sounds a bit strange indeed. Thus you are surprised. Therefore let me explain all above more profoundly. As you come to a page for leaving your reply, you face not the free space for the writing, but your your own opportunities to awake. Wow, the miracle happens when the passive viewer who inhabited inside us gives a stage to the creator you become at a moment you leave the reply. When you are putting down what was grasped by you, you are reading not my musings, but start listening at your own heart. What could be more glorious than the recognition of that secret light? There are lots of interesting places to visit, but nothing can look more attractive than the personal awakening. Our comments are the magical windows. Do you see your own past sitting back in awe towards you now?


When a car splashes with puddle while passing by you, there is nothing to boast of, however, people are used to applaud when somebody depicts that situation artistically… The dirty puddle becomes the sweet picture then.
Wow, are the artists not the magicians?
The creativity makes the disasters the cultural values, and thus the entrance to the art showrooms becomes a costly pleasure.

It always fine to hear “Have a great day!”, but do I need to taste the puddle prior to relish cultural meals?
While I loudly wondered how to deal with the fabulous cost of artistic materials, the unknown passerby silently picked up the litter from a road and passed by me. Which of us was the artist?

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