Saturday, June 30, 2012

The Promise




"Art exists because life is not enough."

Ferreira Gullar
via thehavingsurface tumblr
'We are a whisper
until a scream is needed
then we shake these waters...'

pistoletto and the duality of the human mind

Michelangelo Pistoletto...


Man has always attempted to double himself as a means of attaining self-knowledge. 
The recognition of one’s own image in a pool of water - like recognizing oneself in a mirror - was perhaps one of the first real hallucinations that man experienced. 
Part of man’s mind has always remained attached to that reproduction of himself. 
With the passage of time, this doubling, this process of duplication, came to be used in ways that were ever more systematic and convincing. 
The mind created representation on the basis of the reflection of the self; and art has become one form of this representation.
Man began to use reflection as a strategic point for measuring of the universe.
Man began to measure the universe in terms of his own direct experience of life and death, then went on to the great task of creating good and evil. 
In the light of the day he said “white” and in the darkness of the night he said “black”. And always remaining at the center of things he created perspective. 
The world was seen in terms of vanishing points and points of view with respect to the position of man’s eye at about five feet above ground level, and from that point he created high and low.
Past and future, near and distant, profound and superficial, true and false, single and multiple, subjective and objective, static and dynamic. 
These are a few examples of the complex of antinomies that has grown up around the human being as the fruit of his mind. 
In constant expansion, the process began with the first man who walked the earth, and it has continued until today. 
The world that we daily inhabit both physically and mentally is made up of the conflict between the two extreme halves of every proposition and every judgment.
Looking at works of art, I felt the force with which I was compelled to oscillate between one dimension of experience that was abstract and mental and another dimension of experience that was concrete and physical. 
And it was in the fact of representation that I discovered the poles that were in simultaneous attraction and repulsion - my literal presence as proposed by the mirror, and my intellectual presence as proposed by my painting.
Predetermined directions are contrary to man’s liberty. 
To predetermine something means to make a commitment for tomorrow; 
it means that tomorrow I will no longer be free. 
To adhere to a predetermined idea means to reflect oneself in the past and to deprive oneself of free will. 
Unity of language must be predetermined and it demands that we adhere to it. 
To believe in one’s own language means to play one’s own role. 
Languages are posited as fictions between us and the others 
in the midst of a mass of individuals who play-act themselves 
and who are always ready to be manipulated by the directors. 
There are certain people of extraordinary intelligence who are frustrated by some kind 
of a personal complex or another, and they have turned themselves 
into theatrical characters on the basis of it, they believe in the character 
so thoroughly that they presume to make even the others play it. 
These are society’s directors - the ones who send the actors to kill and be killed by the evil that they, they directors, have perceived in themselves. 
And all of this happens when it would have been sufficient to take a little step to one side, proceed on one’s own way and abandon the complexes without instrumentalizing them.

nick knight photography

Friday, June 29, 2012


'Color possesses me. I don't have to pursue it. It will possess me always, I know it. 
That is the meaning of this happy hour: 
Color and I are one. 
I am a painter.'

my color palette


"Whether you spend your days in sorrow or in joy, 

time will still continue to tick away. 

The longer you take to move on, the less time you’ll have to spend being happy."

Kevin Ngo

andrei baciu

Wednesday, June 27, 2012


"If time and space, as sages say,
Are things which cannot be,
The sun which does not feel decay
No greater is than we.
So why, Love, should we ever pray
To live a century?
The butterfly that lives a day
Has lived eternity.”

 T.S. Eliot

1.via umaymen tumblr  2.eclektic tumblr  3.ray of light via flickr photo sharing



musica con pasion


la bohemia de mi corazon..


My heartbeat accelerates. I am in the here, in the now. I am also in the future. I am holding her and wanting and knowing and hoping all at once. We are the ones who take this thing called music and line it up with this thing called time. We are the ticking, we are the pulsing, we are the underneath every part of this moment. 
And by making this moment our own, we are rendering it timeless. There is no audience. There are no instruments. There are only bodies and thoughts and murmurs and looks. It’s the concert rush to end all concert rushes, because this is what matters. 
When the heart races, this is what it’s racing towards.


 Norah’s Infinite Playlist


amchphotography via elemenop tumblr





Tuesday, June 26, 2012

'Do not worry if you have built your castles in the air. 
They are where they should be. 
Now put the foundations under them.'


Henry David Thoreau


by bowman




Monday, June 25, 2012

my mind walks the shore every morning

via yoshiyukimaeda blogs/droptokyo


If you take a book with you on a journey, an odd thing happens; 
The book begins collecting your memories. 
And forever after you have only to open that book to be back where you first read it. 
It will all come into your mind with the very first words: the sights you saw in that place, what it smelled like, the ice cream you ate while you were reading it…
yes, books are like flypaper—memories cling to the printed page better than anything else.


cornelia funke


Universe by Zsoka Lorincz

'Nu poţi opri prezentul. În fiecare zi trebuie să renunţi la trecut...
Şi dacă nu-l poţi opri, atunci trebuie să-l creezi.'

Paul Klee

paul klee- rose

Sunday, June 24, 2012

accents

paramount via blankdiary tumblr

permanent via blankdiary

squoval via blankdiary tumblr

sylvan via blankdiary tumblr

1. sylvain emmanuel 2.ph. kari herer 3.tumblr 4. sonja rolton


There is a secret place. A radiant sanctuary. As real as your own kitchen. 
More real than that. Constructed of the purest elements. 
Overflowing with the ten thousand beautiful things. 
Worlds within worlds. 
Forests, rivers. 
Velvet coverlets thrown over featherbeds, fountains bubbling beneath a canopy of stars.
 Bountiful forests, universal libraries. 
A wine cellar offering an intoxication so sweet you will never be sober again. 
A clarity so complete you will never again forget. 
This magnificent refuge is inside you. Enter. 
Shatter the darkness that shrouds the doorway… 
Believe the incredible truth that the Beloved has chosen for his dwelling place the core of your own being because that is the single most beautiful place in all of creation.


Mirabai Starr



Diana Krall

Saturday, June 23, 2012

'I'm already nostalgic for a love that hasn't even happened yet '

ph. kari herer

Friday, June 22, 2012


Sometimes in life, you find a special soul. 
Someone who changes your life just by being a part of it. 
Someone who makes you laugh until you can’t stop. 
Someone who makes you believe that there really is good in the world. 
Someone who convinces you that there really is an unlocked door
 just waiting for you to open it.


unknown











She didn’t understand that. “How can anyone be afraid of love?” 
“How can they not?” 
His face was completely aghast. “When you love someone… 
truly love them, friend or lover, you lay your heart open to them. 
You give them a part of yourself that you give to no one else, and you let them inside a part of you that only they can hurt—
you literally hand them the razor with a map of where to cut deepest and most painfully on your heart and soul.
 And when they do strike, it’s crippling—like having your heart carved out. 
It leaves you naked and exposed, wondering what you did to make them want to hurt you so badly when all you did was love them. 
What is so wrong with you that no one can keep faith with you? 
 To have it happen once is bad enough… but to have it repeated? 
Who in their right mind would not be terrified of that?


Sherrilyn Kenyon, Devil May Cry







Thursday, June 21, 2012




heart beats fast
colors and promises
how to be brave
how can i love when i'm afraid to fall
but watching you stand alone
all of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow
one step closer

...
and all along i believed i would find you
time has brought your heart to me
i have loved you for a thousand years
i love you for a thousand more

Wednesday, June 20, 2012


We value love not because it’s stronger than death but because it’s weaker. 
Say what you want about love: death will finish it. 
You will not go on loving in the grave, 
not in any physical way that will at all resemble love as we know it on earth. 
The perishable nature of love is what gives love its importance in our lives. 
If it were endless, if it were on tap, love wouldn’t hit us the way it does.


jeffries eugenides


eucalypt in flower- australia, picture via scentofapassion tumblr

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

In The Arms Of an Angel



1.personal archive 2-3 .picture via black-wolves tumblr






I don’t have a diary, I don’t write things into a diary. 
I imprint myself into the sky and when the sunlight shines brightly, I can stand under the sun’s rays and everything I have imprinted of myself into the sky, I will begin to see again, feel again, remember. And when the wind begins to blow, it blows the details over my face, and I remember everything I left in the sky and see new things being born. 
I am unwritten.

C. JoyBell 


by angrywhistler



'Don’t let life come to a standstill. Lead with your heart. 
Stop letting your own happiness sit on the back burner. 
Be a little kinder, give a little more love. 
Forgive and learn. 
Listen. Feel. Live.'


via tumblr

Monday, June 18, 2012

Fields Of Gold

'You breathe
When your heart is broken you plant seeds in the cracks
And you pray for rain'

Tyler Knott
Remeber, you can never see the rainbow until you see the rain.





via lamadreamer tumblr


It must be immense, this silence, in which sounds and movements have room, 
and if one thinks that along with all this the presence of the distant sea also resounds, perhaps as the innermost note in this prehistoric harmony, then one can only wish that you are trustingly and patiently letting the magnificent solitude work upon you, 
this solitude which can no longer be erased from your life; 
which, in everything that is in store for you to experience and to do, 
will act an anonymous influence, continuously and gently decisive, 
rather as the blood of our ancestors incessantly moves in us and combines with our own to form the unique, unrepeatable being that we are at every turning of our life.

from Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke (translated by S. Mitchell)


flare by slimmer jimmer


Sunday, June 17, 2012

colors of Sunday



The brain may take advice, but not the heart, and love, having no geography, knows no boundaries: weight and sink it deep, no matter, it will rise and find the surface: and why not? Any love is natural and beautiful that lies within a person’s nature; 
only hypocrites would hold a man responsible for what he loves, 
emotional illiterates and those of righteous envy, who, in their agitated concern, 
mistake so frequently the arrow pointing to heaven for the one that leads to hell.

Truman Capote, Other Voices, Other Rooms 



Saturday, June 16, 2012

happy birthday

Today is a special day for me, my son turns 7 years old.
I'm the happiest mom in the world. 
all my love and all my joy 



 I wish I could leave you certain of the images in my mind, because they are so beautiful that I hate to think they will be extinguished when I am. 
Well, but again, this life has its own mortal loveliness. 
And memory is not strictly mortal in its nature, either. 
It is a strange thing, after all, to be able to return to a moment, 
when it can hardly be said to have any reality at all, even in its passing. 
A moment is such a slight thing. 
I mean, that its abiding is a most gracious reprieve.

Marilynne Robinson

collage made from tumblr pictures

Friday, June 15, 2012



People will show you who they are, but we ignore it because we want them to be 
who we want them to be.
                                                                      Don Draper


via belin tumblr

Thursday, June 14, 2012

via tumblr


The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek.

 Joseph Campbell


via tumblr...


You can never have too much sky. 
Butterflies too are few and so are flowers and most things that are beautiful. 
Still, we take what we can get and make the most of it. 

Sandra Cisneros

via black-wolves tumblr

"Never apologize for showing feeling. When you do so, you apologize for the truth'


Monday, June 11, 2012

Life isn’t happily ever after and golden sunsets and shit like that. 
It’s work. 
The person you love is rarely worthy of how big your love is. 
Because no one is worthy of that and maybe no one deserves the burden of it, either. 
You’ll be let down. You’ll be disappointed and have your trust broken 
and have a lot of real sucky days. 
You lose more than you win. You hate the person you love as much as you love him. 
But, shit, you roll up your sleeves and work because that’s what growing older is.

Dennis Lehane


details...

via tumblr


If we wait for the moment when everything,
absolutely everything is ready,
we shall never begin.
Ivan Turgenev

via tumblr


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