Sometimes since I’ve been in the garden I’ve looked up through the trees at the sky and I have had a strange feeling of being happy as if something was pushing and drawing in my chest and making me breathe fast. Magic is always pushing and drawing and making things out of nothing. Everything is made out of magic, leaves and trees, flowers and birds, badgers and foxes and squirrels and people. So it must be all around us. In this garden – in all the places. ~ Frances Hodgson Burnett
What curious structures one encounters when one dares to venture further away from one’s cave.
D. my partner in crime ascending to nowhere in particular.
… people who don’t dream, who don’t have any kind of imaginative life, they must… they must go nuts. I can’t imagine that…
Describe your sorrows and desires, the thoughts that pass through your mind and your belief in some kind of beauty – describe all these with heartfelt, silent, humble sincerity and, when you express yourself, use the things around you, the images from your dreams, and the objects that you remember. If your everyday life seems poor, don’t blame it; blame yourself; admit to yourself that you are not enough of a poet to call forth its riches; because for the creator, there is no poverty and no poor, indifferent place. And even if you found yourself in some prison, whose walls let in none of the world’s sounds – wouldn’t you still have your childhood, that jewel beyond all price, that treasure house of memories? Turn your attention to it. Try to raise up the sunken feelings of this enormous past; your personality will grow stronger, your solitude will expand and become a place where you can live in the twilight, where the noise of other people passes by, far in the distance. – And if out of this turning-within, out of this immersion in your own world, poems come, then you will not think of asking anyone whether they are good or not. Nor will you try to interest magazines in these works: for you will see them as your dear natural possession, a piece of your life, a voice from it. A work of art is good if it has arisen out of necessity. That is the only way one can judge it.”
It must have felt woefully out of place
like the refugee placing a bowl of water safely
on his windowsill, front row seats
the spectacle: the moon reflects a stolen
Also peculiar, the soul whose words want
so badly, but don’t answer to the self-portrait of
kings, whilst these fingertips understandably
caress: the land cannot belong, the land longs to be
That’s how we became the gardener and his basil
green power in between
Our sound is loud and clearly
(My only son K, wrote this poem)
That’s what I do (automatically) observe people and surroundings. I can assess situations in mere seconds and draw my conclusion from what’s before me. I see the big picture in one glance and miss nothing. Being an Empath I see more and feel more, therefore, learn more. Words mean nothing to me. It’s the body language and tone of voice I focus on to determine with whom I am dealing with. That and my instinct which up to now never fails me yet.
Even in a relaxed environment and situation I never stop observing and absorbing scenes. People fascinate me in a lot of ways, their relationships with others and their surroundings, and the manners they choose to express their personal tastes and preferences revealing their true characters and what’s going on under the surface. But most of all I admire their beauties from an artist’s point of view. The tilt of the chin, the way the eyes look in certain lights, the cheekbones, and the facial expressions, the colors of the hair when the sun rays hit the strands, freckles over the nose bridge, things like that. What beautiful for me may not be so for the others since beauty is subjective. Let’s put it this way: If a subject caught my attention, that says enough. If it keeps me interested for more than five minutes that’s already a record, but if I want to capture their image through photography or on canvas, that means I’m impressed.
I can’t say this enough: I am not particularly fond of people on a more personal basis but they are my never-ending source of inspiration for my crafts. Them and life itself.
This week’s challenge is to share a photo of something unlikely. An object or person in an unlikely place, an unpredictable experience, a serendipitous accident: we want the expected.
Here’s my take on the challenge: Two unlikely works of art in an unlikely place; a public park.
If you are not willing to risk the unusual, you will have to settle for the ordinary. -Jim Rohn
Someone sent these images. Thought it may interest me. I love it!
Last Autumn I was passing by the neighborhood park during one of my daily walks and I was pleasantly surprised to see that they decorated the place with multicolored lights and otherworldly works of art. It had given the place an eerie atmosphere which is far from its usual subdued state. I was amused.
I live somewhere in Europe and as you know the continent is full of beautiful places, historical buildings, breathtaking landscapes and awe-inspiring nature. I could have chosen any of those but I thought which of those you have never seen before? And after a time landmarks tend to either look like or blend with each other or become so familiar people just scroll down when they see them.
So, today I have chosen a unique piece of art I bet most of you didn’t behold yet.
It was a chance encounter. Not even in my wildest dream, I thought I will find it where it is__ in the middle of nowhere. While hiking I saw it from a distance and I thought: “What is that???” It appears and disappears from view. When you see it you’ll understand what I mean. You see… it looks like this:
The way it was constructed fascinates me endlessly. I’ve never seen something quite like it before.
When you look up it looks like this:
Amazing isn’t it?
They call it Reading Between The Lines Church and located in the city of Borgloon in the province of Limburg.
Simulating life’s process…
Weekly Photo Challenge: Variations on a Theme
The world’s favorite comfort food__ chocolates!