I feel dwarfed by the opulence of art.
I watch the ceiling float away as the artist’s conceptualisation and expression rise into the sky, and place them next to the Creator.
They are fractals of God. The power packed in minuscule forms makes me strike off the “small” words from my lexicon.
Nothing in the world is small. They only await a wall in the right colour and the right light to lend credence.
They were well above the average of humanity, if I decode their thoughts decades later.
Give me a brush and the freedom to mix my colours.

I love art, so you know, I loved this.
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Good to know that. Thank you!
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Nice metaphorical meander, Reena. Totally agree with:
They are fractals of God.
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Thank you so much, Lisa!
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You’re very welcome.
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Striking piece Reena – it reads like a prose poem on the sublime power of creativity🙌
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I meant it to be a prose poem or poetic prose, whatever one chooses to call it.
Thank you, Ange!
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🙌
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Love this “fractals of God”. Profound and brilliant piece, Reena.
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Much appreciated.
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Profound
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Thank you!
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You’re welcome
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IIt may be the small things that make the world
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They do, hence, the world is so chaotic.
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I love this Reena, very poetic, especially the line “fractals of God”.
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Thanks a ton, David!
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beautiful 🙂 Reena 😍😍
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Thank you, Carol!
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