meeting a fantasy

The search for a thought of the day made me responsible for the tomorrow.

Tomas Karkalas / 1984 / cartoon


The need to update old records makes me look at life a little more closely. Writing in this way makes me grow despite old age. What could be better?
Seeing a picture means hearing its colors. They combine our problems with spiritual values and thus embody the latter and solve all human puzzles.

A saying goes Photos are speaking. I found out that when I saw my blog. The “Arthiker” means the hiker through the art and life of Tomas Karkalas.


Fall festival or the wet autumn’s conspiracy of silence

It was above human potency to put the eloquence of autumn colors in plain words. Therefore I put down my pen and the heart blended into the art canvas, gave birth  to the wet autumn’s conspiracy of silence.
The picture as inspires, as makes the beholder’s blood freeze. It uncovers as the sense of space that overfills the heart and sat me back in awe, as the tears for personal impotency to change though any hear. It’s cold and wet, despite I am inside my room and the lamp drops down the yellow light. Is that not the madness? I enjoy the view and desire to exspose the picture and trust in her potency to comfort my destiny brothers – to remind that tick-tack of the clock ends nothing, just tests our faithfulness to God, our comprehension of ourselves.

Autumn revives the remains of generosity, yet it is sorrowful to watch how they vanish from sight in the modern architecture. Just magical transformational art. That’s mine Fall Festival on Top Sites Tuesday.

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faces of hope

I named this photo painting after the fantasy painting…the title should point not at the outward form of my artwork, but the origins of the image, so to speak, the ultimate goal of meeting with oneself eye to eye. Just click the link on above. If to judge outwardly, that may sound strangely, because fantasy painting deal with the heroes, meanwhile the ordinary pick of the flowers look at us from the picture here. Yet I hope you will succeed to breakthrough the flat surface of this creative work and will hear the chatter of the colors. Yes, I am alive. So let my pictures talk. Do you hear the faces of hope?

Discovery of oneself in overview of my pictures

Last Word
transmutations of fortune
Wow Two

The resolution to not complain influenced my vocabulary greatly, put beauty to my daily visits to the doctors.
My smile may look a bit ridiculous at a moment (I am in a hospital), yet it is worthy the sharing more than the concrete details of the accident. Consequently you see some pictures above… while I am in need of rest, let my archives talk.

stories of the snow-broth

Each season brings something good to the world. So the spring will awake the ground soon and the flowers will blossom forth everywhere. Yet everything has a cost. So what was an awe inspiring mystery of the New Year transformed into the puddles of the snow-broth… This picture has nothing to admire at, yet it is not the meaningless. The current slob forced me to search for the shelter, and thus the photo opened the diaries of the antecedents that were silenced by the headlines of our papers. In other words, while viewing the picture, just the incredible thing has happened. The murmur of the elderly warmed my heart: the modern trust in the omnipotence of the bank accounts was defeated and the glory of the simple Hello! was revealed .
While viewing this photo I have sensed the real spring. Though the economic downturn was the obvious here, that unlovely indeed picture not threatened, but comforted me because it revived the heroes of the good fairy tales and made clear the need to step on the bridge of the love for getting out of the current mess. So the flowers blossomed out. Just look at what’s below.

Do you clicked here? I did. I hope you will follow me – we all dream about hight traffic to our blogs, meanwhile that’s so simple:
all you have to do is check out (the widget on the above) for the spring could enter our hearts. So lets announce an end to what you see below.

The archives talk to us

This picture is not an abstraction or the fantasy. It is the photo, the documentary stuff despite the hardness to recognize exact location of her colors. The archives talk to us, and I remind of joy I had while taking my photos then. So to speak, there is nothing new under the sun, God still loves us today. What’s our response?

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