overview of my life

overview of my life

Some say, the pictures talk. Thus I looked around and named this photo an overview of my life. At times, I like to talk too... look here...

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my lovely persecutor

Each time I see this stump, lots of emotions fill my heart. Thus I took a shot. This view brought me to introspect,  inspired my recent posts The Sign and My Story. As we identify ourselves with what we see underfoot, even the simple shot comes into bloom, reveals the symbolic message and thus what looked as quite ordinary thing sits us back in awe as we identify ourselves with our environment. Not the quality of  this photo-sketch, but the way we respond is worthy the sharing. Just incredible transformations take part then. I wanted to title the above  photo as my persecutor, yet it became the spring of action to uplift my eyes to heaven.

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Attraction to silence

I noticed that my walk slow down each day. The photo Attraction to silence depicts the cause. Not the flatness of the surface attracts me, but the incredible depth that opens in outwardly hopeless situation sits me back in awe. Just try to connect the leaves into a figures. What do you see now?  Are these my eyes? Our being? The digital truth.

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a sip of fresh air

While looking at a picture, people are used to talk about the artwork, yet I will talk about living here and now.

The picture on above differs from art images there or there, yet they all have the same message. The light just blinds when I close my eyes.








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the consumers of love

once upon a time there lived good giants ( look here) yet what does that mean to us today?
The rubble catche the eye, attract the archaelogists, but are unfit to modern living.
When I started to think, it became so easy to identify myself with the rundown brick wall of the picture. I too was diagnosed as the disabled for life. Thus we both are living because you care for us. Thank you. Love gives a meaning to our being and is the art mirror that reports the timeless values.

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stary-eyed musing awakes the sentiments to water the natural flowers

while browsing my archives, I was stopped by this old photo. I think you will agree with me too, the pick looks expressively indeed, yet it is just a simple close-up at a billet that was taken while visiting my father-in- law... It went up in smoke through the chimney already. That was in days of yore, so to speak, and there is nothing to mourn for that. The central heating serves the town-dwellers better than a billet in a romantic-looking  furnace. Nonetheless this photo gave a good shake to me. I reminded the warmth of a tree - the warmth that warmed my heart then. Meanwhile while touching my modern-day heater,  I receive just the knowledge about the temperature that awakes hard musing about the cost of the home comforts.

The chump disguise as a watercolor and does that fine enough, yet  does that mastery makes the image the fine art we all rejoice at? The question looks worthy of pondering deeper, yet can human mind change though a bit to improve current morality?

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photo story

I was going to the doctor for to take the prescribed internal medicine and thus wasn't in a cheerful mood, therefore that picture was something above the potency of my words to report it in the human language. I just couldn't not to take a shot! And I did that in spite of the fact that my right hand was in the plaster ... An awe enabled me to overcome (to forget) all the inconveniences. What came in my view was just hard to believe - children were reading the newspapers (not the fairy-tales). That picture rescued me from my judging the world for his indifference to the spiritual problems : while hard living conditions robed people of time to love anybody except their personal profit , not all closed the eyes - children were reading the newspapers. They were still the curious and trusted in the human wisdom and generosity. Had I the right to disillusion them? ... I forgot my sickness.

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tale of purity

purity disguised as a weed, yet I like it, because these flowers never wither, but comforts with awesome pictures once we learn to recognize the personal dreams in the eyes  of other. Colors talk in case we want to listen. See flames of memory... for the dicovery of...oneself.

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Tulip's story

This is the picture - the digital painting. I had a good time while drawing it, and thus the wonderful mask was created. Just think. I escaped the need of apology for my silence - the palette talks out of itself : the picture depicts my ambiguos situation colorfuly - it promotes the positive attitude towards the life.

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Time to blossom

It is time to blossom out, thus my digitals sparkle with color. Spring changes the pavement bricks from underfoot into the dream garden...

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beauty and life

I like this photo more than any other, because these flowers weren't created by my fantasy, but gifted to me. Therefore this shot represents not my own creativity, but the love that guards us from the harsh winds of life - from the pride for our own self and the sorrow for the killing sense of the loneliness ultimately. Thus the flowers you see in the picture bear witness to freedom from any worry for being - the miracle that was experienced by me at my birthday party.

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urban sunset gives birth to the dawn

It was fine indeed to color the photo. The simple shot became the thought provoking picture that urged me to start new blog Discovery of oneself in the fine arts.

While the art colors just catch the eye, the recognition of oneself in other makes the real miracle of the fine arts, gives a meaning to the handmade surfaces by transforming the spectators into the best buddies. The financial worries for self end in joyful fellowship of the winners, who while watching the art canvases succeeded to recognize the wonderland underfoot.

Let me invite you to join us in these adventures.

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spring in web resolution

I was to resized my Spring for the web and thus started to think. This shot differs from the picture the stories of a causeway greatly. Just have a look. There were used the different techniques, we see other shapes and colors, yet let's remind the words of Keith Haring.
The artist said "Drawing is still basically the same as it has been since prehistoric times. It brings together man and the world".
In other words, any talking about any artwork reveal the same message. That's our outlook towards ourselves. So I can either to muse about what was done by me, or recall what was shown to me by God. I can either boast for my rapid sketches, or rejoice at the sunshine that warm the hearts of us all and for a free.


... the iron closure on the weatherbeaten ground caught my eye. I recognized a flower in the picture. Its eloquent figure enriched the downbeat photo with the colors of the fantasy and thus I was just blinded by the sparkling vision.

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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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magical transformations

As I saw this, the shot was taken and I entitled it Feelings versus View. The picture recalled my youth: the emotions that were burning inside and the reality of life greatly differed between then....
The unlovely pictures vanished from site immediately as I learned that what irritated me was just my own weakness to see beyond the physical shapes of things I touch. Therefore I try not to complain for the empty ground underfoot, but enjoy the gardening now. So the flowers blossomed out inside of me, and my headaches put me on the wings of the gratitude for remaining alive till now.

What you see below is what was found by me on a windowsill of art therapy class. These lovely creations were made by the patients from the hospital for the people with the psychiatric disorders. It's hard to trust, yet that is Modus Vivendi indeed. I blossom out myself as I talk about this wonderful club. One of my blogs was dedicated to them. So you are welcomed to Modus Vivendi. Just click on a link above and see for yourself.

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round trip

More I looked at my shot on the above, more the photo talked to me, the close-up of what was underfoot depicted the whole universe.

The places we never had seen before seduce us into the adventures. So we take long trips and involve in the passionate shooting.
While looking at thus gathered my exotica, I sat back into awe towards the incredible discovery in the prior never seen pictures: the close-up clearly portrait...I recognized myself (!) in the building bricks of the mysterious panorama.
Do you recall a saying, "we are what we look at"?

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Cost of the Beauty

While talking about the fine arts, we shift away from the countless sketches to the timeless values. Meanwhile the sketches reveal the cost of these masterpieces... The artists typically silence that. It's easy to explain such behavior. Plus the "humbleness" is the nice feature, yet let me to break this polite rule of the art showrooms now. What you see on above is just a sketch, so to speak, the burgeon that will burst into blossom one day... maybe. At a moment we can just to guess what will be framed and hung on a wall one day, yet the approximate cost is already clear.
See a story below.
We were driving home... so to speak, while my wife was driving, I was taking the photos. So my flash gave her trouble, made the driving hard, yet there was no hint of impatience in her face. While looking at my blurred shot now, I just can't not to think either my arts are worthy wife's patients - our whole life. While examining the sketch, I clearly see how near we were the crash. I recognize a hint to some face that looks at me. Whose is this? What was the message?

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Talking walls

I like my town. There are lots of houses that look more attractively than the picture on the above. Therefore this photo may confuse you a bit. You may ask, what for you should look at what's out of shape?

The mix-up over the above will dissipate at the moment the diary will be recognized here. Just think. While the picture of the happy youth pleases the eyes, the diaries of the sick touch the heart. The diaries lead us through the economic downturn to the riches of the inner life. They are the magical bridges from the current mess to the homeland of the dreams.

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snow was white once upon a time

This blog was named Art Mirror, and the pictures depict indeed what I am looking at, yet what did reveal my artworks in the concrete?
Snow was white ... once upon a time. Thus the photo comforts, yet that reminder brings the tears to the eyes, and the last shames me to say it, but I.. I fell into the trap, because I worry just for myself at a moment: while talking about the eternities and the essential human oneness in Spirit, I fear the fees for my Internet. That's ugly. Is it not the selfishness? ... It was no wonder for your silence was the only response to my ask for the support . You were very polite, meanwhile I dared to begg and spotted the whiteness of the snow...

The sinkhole from the photo stares at me. Lots of faces may be discovered in this shot, yet can I identify myself with my artworks?! ... So what? ... The dawn will come, and that's for sure as the needless disabled will leave this earth one day. In the light of the above, the Art Mirror is like the autumn leaves - though they were the colorful, but that beauty not escaped the destiny of the mud underfoot.

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ongoing miracle of life

While viewing the picture, I was reminded about the ongoing metamorphosis in our life, and it was not some speculation but the truth, because I examined not a shot, but swept my whole life.
Such approach enabled me to experience the real miracle. The unrepresentable view warmed my heart. Wow, this metamorphosis occurred so unexpectedly! While looking underfoot, I recognized the ages that were looking at me. Thus I was humbled and comforted. The picture helped me to turn aside from temporal problems - to exchange my worries for the gratitude for being alive. My eyes blossomed out with the smile. The above was even hard to trust. The disabled didn't mourn for help, but started to dance. The real miracles happen when we look at the life through the eyes of faith. Just think.

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