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.
Even the best message is just the words, if it comes without the addressee. Therefore, I am questioning myself, what do I do? Why? And thus discover a meaning in my gazing through the window: the passersby dress the famous quotes for the strangers could revive the ages, put the wisdom to the irritating bustle outside. So my “Last Glimpse” got the meaning .
“More people would learn from their mistakes if they weren’t so busy denying them.” — Harold J. Smith
I have learned to respect all passersby – to see myself in others. The sense of self in the universe taught me not to throw garbage down the street. So far everything was fine, but today I was stopped by the drawing under my feet. The fairy’s eyes stared at me from under my feet – I felt paralyzed. I was afraid to even cross. On the other hand, it was good to check where and how I was moving.
in other words, the artwork greatly expanded my spatial awareness: painting taught me to think in images and left at thebus station..
I reminded the wise Frank Stella’ saying,“I don’t like to say I have given my life to art. I prefer to say art has given me my life”
I sat back in an awe and thus became the blind – the single blade of the grass caught my eye and the heart and thus shadowed the entrance door to the joyful garden under the wall.
If you are reading this, it means my writing aren’t lost, and the thoughts jumped not in vain. Thank You. Are you part of this picture?
I was walking down a street, the narrow old town street. High walls surrounded me. Was I imprisoned by my town? Or the stone creations were there to teach me somewhat? I looked around, and the blade of grass underfoot pierced me with its green glance. Wow , I sat back in an awe and thus became the blind – the single blade of the grass caught my eye and the heart and thus shadowed the entrance door to the joyful garden under the wall.
“Reason can answer questions, but imagination has to ask them.”
— Ralph Gerard
It is good if everybody has a chance to talk, yet that only doubles the pain in case nobody listens.
It is good if everybody has a chance to talk, yet that only doubled the pain because nobody listened.
As we realize our problems as the misunderstandings, the conflict hurts doubly: the understanding of the meaninglessness of our passions colour up everything as the futility. That increased my despair and led to the hospital for people with the psychiatric disorders in Klaipeda. So I appeared in the art therapy class…Wow! Love was reigning there. The mental hospital was a school of love. I took my camera and became the participant of the class.
My eyes were captured by the Molar King… freedom from the attachments means not the wings, but the blindness to the talents God gave to us.
Many are afraid to greet people with the psychiatric disorders, and such mindset hurts the most. It hurts not only the rejected but the world because the prejudices rob people of their freedom to smile and put them into the slavery to the cunning standards of beauty.
What the caterpillar calls the end, the rest of the world calls a butterfly — Lao Tzu
This is a pot – not the artwork, but a simple shot of what’s on my table, however I am going to frame it: to make a pot the distinctive page of my diary. So where is a key to this unsearchable action?
It is neither a shape of my pot, nor the colors of the image – it is the knowledge of what’s inside a pot. That is why the image looks so sweet to me : I saw how my wife was cooking a jam here, and that caused the magical transformation – my knowledge has made the ordinary pot into something worthy to remember, revealed a secret of my transformational art.