The Fine Arts associates with something glorious
It would be even ridiculous to compare the artwork with a pariah-dog. However, I would be a liar if I would say that I enjoy my paintings more than long walking hours with my dog. Love’s smell is unrepeatable and the most precious creation.
My faithful co-author, my dog Mike, have left our earth. I am so sorry, but the life goes on, and we should live in spite it is very hard to keep the tears and to sense myself as the robbed of something essential.
Be well my dear friends
We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust our sails.
+ Does God speak through our conscience?
The Secret Place Christian Newsletter [firstname.lastname@example.org]
If God were to ask you,
“Why should I let you into my heaven? “
What would you say?
I looked over the various blogs on the net and found lots of the delicious recipes. However, one gradient, one essential gradient was missing there. It is our gratitude for all we have today. Its impact is incredible. Miraculous.
Have a look. We all know that meat prepared on the open fire will have different taste from one that will be cooked in an oven. The impact of the gratitude is much stronger than all spices that we may even think about.
I want to end my post with one story.
Once upon a time, I got luck to travel a bit. I visited many countries and tasted lots of various foods. However, time went by and our cash finished. It was very hot day, we wanted to drink but we found in our bags just some melting coffee, but there was no water. What to do? I opened the door of the public toilet and our drink was made. It was the most wonderful coffee I ever have tasted.
We were thirsty and we were refreshed.
Most recipes are wonderful, I am happy for they are not hidden but shared for everyone could use them.
However, there are multitudes around that haven’t anything to eat at all, or count every single penny, and wonder how to survive. Thus kindly recommended products may cause only the irritation to them, will be the extraordinary luxurious to have them on the table.
Unfortunately, personally I too belong to that category of people. Well being of the disabled and pensioners depends not on their consciousness but on the governmental politics. I hadn’t luck to live In USA or some other prosperous country. In Lithuania there are few who plan they holidays in the exotic countries but the most, the disabled and the pensioners are … swept away from joys of daily affairs. It is sorrowful, however, what we do with wonderfully green leaves in late autumn? And what remains then? Yes, just the frightful naked branches remain then
Who am I? What for I am here? I call these questions my self-understanding. That’s my main theme and the title to all my artworks.
Edvard Munch said:
“When I paint, I never think of selling. People simply fail to understand that we paint in order to experiment and to develop ourselves as we strive for greater heights”
I would like to add only one. I never looked at my painting as at a work. My pictures are something like my breathing . Thus my artworks report my going through the test of life, prove my faithfulness and fitness to the eternal kingdom.
I would like you too would look at my pictures as at your own mirror.
A table is a noun and the “a” that starts my statement is an article. Am I right? Of course, I am. Therefore I approached a question “who am I?” with high self-confidence. That was how I entered the incredible mess. The question outwardly looked as the tale jokes yet it was hard to answer anything as it is impossible wisely comment the jokes. Yet “who am I?” is not a joke, in spite this writing indeed looks like abracadabra.
I think that 80 words or 349 characters (no space) should be enough for the introduction. The time came to make a conclusion. And I will do it by a glimpse at what I am doing at the moment.
At the moment, I am reading what was already red not once. “We are all wanderers on this earth. Our hearts are full of wonder, and our souls are deep with dreams”
That’s fantastic. Gypsy proverb closed all my papers and the wind of the road started dancing in my lungs again. A statement of wetness of the water looks dull in repetition, yet it is otherwise with our being the wanderers. That’s obvious, yet it is hard to understand. Why do I need the reminder that my legs are given to walk?
While we are on a road, we don’t bother for what is put on our tables; we don’t grieve but enjoy the walk and share not mourning but the good news about approaching the heaven.
I am so happy to leave my place at a table near the kitchen window; I don’t grieve to leave the lovely meditations at the window to the world, I am going to a doctor and soon I will be surrounded by lots of other patients. My solitude is broken already; I am already on my way.