It is another day. The Sun rises and travels through the Sky. I wanna touch and feel the horizon, but there are some secrets Nature does not reveal. It is another year, another season. Skies turn a dark gray, as the landscape greens and it pours. There are certain treasures nature does not conceal. Pages … Continue reading Another day
Growing up
adventures galore call me once more it’s not safe out there Mom says, with due care Not just love her, but adore Yet I need to explore I like how she rears as she smoothens my hair A risk-taker at the core I’ll jump through the door rough and tumble of life awaits there is … Continue reading Growing up
Fragmented
scribbled fragments of a divided conscience A struggle to protect life while lamenting its worthlessness sermons to propagate selflessness books eulogise virtue of selfishness I want to do what my heart desires but do my duties without knowing relevance of the acts Subconscious - A confused, chaotic place makes each step painful unlike robots with … Continue reading Fragmented
Change
Change ….. by Len
Change is inevitable in life as we restless humans constantly prowl the planet for value and meaning to justify our fragile existence. Old gods give way to new gods, old structures to new structures, old idea to modern ideas and society continues to take shape based on our current vogue of thinking. In 1895 Freud’s development of free association gave rise to new trends in our thought process and a series of twelve papers he published between 1914-1918 caused wide ranging speculations about cultural, social, artistic, religious and anthropological phenomena. This early 20th century enlightenment had a wide ranging influence on some artists who envisioned their creations with new eyes. One of these new forms of expression was cubism.
Cubism is an art form originating in Paris between 1907-1914 and best exemplified by Pablo Picasso and Georges Braque. Cubism sought to…
View original post 388 more words
Hidden Emotions!
Hidden emotions …. by Radhika
blogspot.spoongraphics.co.uk
Abstract figures, contours,
appear to ramble
incoherent thoughts.
The jagged emotions
deftly concealed
behind the colors bright.
Only the discerning eye
reads between the lines
to decipher the depth of pain.
Scrambled Reality
Scrambled Reality ….. By VJ Knutson
Of cubism,
I am ignorant
yet, I relate
To express
depths of perception
concurrent aspects
Of a multi –
imagined
universe
Or even
to embrace
the possibility
of oneness
in fractured
slices…
I pull apart the pieces
re-create the image
still cannot find the whole.
(Reena’s Exploration challenge this week is cubism, a subject I know nothing about, but it does seem to fit with this self-portrait I’ve been working on. Synchronicity in action.)
Artistic Insights #writephoto
Artistic insights …. by wordeologist
Maybe you can show me
Maybe then I can know
Why my spirit wails
Why I feel tired
Worn by the trials of this life
Why I can’t see the good
Without remembering the bad
Maybe if you try
You can show me who I am
1940 Joan Miro
Paint me
Colour my soul
Curve out all emotion
Weave your hand and splay my essence
Draw deep
Show my sparkle and shade my gloom
Turn me round, see it all
Joys and despairs
Displayed
artnet
Gray abstract artist
Dispassionate in your ways
Perceptive to all
Crafting cubes with multiple views
Deep fears and aching desires
Sean Safarlou
My soul falls upon the canvas
Now I can see through the rain
Now I can see me
“The rain blinds while clearing sight” – 6word story
I hope you enjoy this,
For;
Reena’s exploration challenge – cubism
Sue’s writephoto prompt – worn
View original post 30 more words
Purity
A funny thing happened on the way to the laundry today. The colors from the threads I don, slipped out of my grip and started flowing through the streets. I tried to catch a few, but they looked unfamiliar. Red was not a pure color anymore. It got contaminated with my emotional states - anger, excitement, … Continue reading Purity
Cubism
Cubism …. by tiredhamster
What is seen is already
Broken, and what is depicted
Never was. The artists had
Their agendas, trying to impose
Reality to the limits of oils
And borders, even if a deformation
had to occur. But all that remains
Is another object that reality holds.
But an object is its own being.
Even if the artist casts himself
The failure of his dreams,
And reality tosses his name
To the spaces between air,
The thing stays here for you,
Its meaning simmering into shapes,
the reconfigured glares, the figures
twisted into color, movements
That were not borne of reality
Directly, but are now within
Its domain, changing its air,
Maybe changing you as well.
Written for Reena’s Exploration Challenge #146.
Priorities
It was the morning after my wedding. I walked up to the terrace, dressed in bridal finery - glass bangles and silver anklets. My husband was busy feeding a large brood of pigeons. “Hey, move back! You will scare the birds away.” It was the first shock - to know that his priorities were peristeronic. … Continue reading Priorities
