Where ART Lives Magazine Volume 4 Number 4 - Page 85

Art teaches us to be aware of present moment, to be aware of stillness. Beauty is individual. It has power to awaken one’s soul and to make one lost in right direction. I have learned to listen and so , to received answers. I have learned to allow more, to embrace what is and what is not, and to know the difference. The good, the bad, the amazing, the blissful, the boring, the tiring hours flow like a river of life, on the banks of which I found myself , sitting diligently and absorbing it all. Painting, drawing, photography, writing are my tools to meet the life as art. I feel my soul as a mosaic – piece by piece life has glued light and shade, love and loss, desire and passion into one magnificent landscape. Art, as changing seasons of my creativity. β€œGolden Rhapsody” 24x20 Art as harmony and vibration, which I chose to surround myself with. It helps me to find myself and lose myself at the same time. Art cuts across all barriers; it reduces polarity, which is tension between good and bad. It inspires us to be, without judging what is in front of us. And between that finding and losing, I have experienced the best moments of creativity, heard the deepest whispers of my soul. All I am seeking, is also seeking me. There is room in my heart for wonderment that is found nowhere else, only in the seekers heart. To be surprised , to wonder and so create from that wonder. Diversity of colors and shapes is the result of me allowing to let experience to influence my soul. And that is enough. Art as a remedy is enough. I am enough. The hand can never paint anything higher that the soul has lived. If this is true, I nourish my soul and feed it with Beauty and Truth. Then out of its abundance, the canvas will be filled with inspiring ideas, with uplifting thoughts. If life posses me with questions, art gives me an answers. Life keeps leading to more life. It pushes you to unknown journeys and then anchors you again Έ=Ή”Α…₯ΉΡ₯Ήœ±•…‘́Ѽ…Ή½Ρ‘•ΘΈ5•΅½Ιδ₯́ѽΌΝ΅…±°Α±…”ΡΌ±₯Ω”ΈΙЁ‘•±ΑΜ)ΎѼΙ•…Ρ”™Ι½΄•αΑ•Ι₯•Ή•Μμ₯Ё‘…±±•Ή•ΜΎѼέ•…ȁ½™˜½˜‰•…Ρ•ΈΑ…Ρ …Ή‰”‰Ι…Ω”ΡΌΡ…­”)„Ι½…±•Ν́ΡΙ…Ω•±•Έ±°Ρ‘₯͕́•­₯Ήœ…Ή™₯Ή‘₯Ήœ‘…́Ѽ‰”‰•½΅”Α…ΙЁ½˜΅”ƒŠLΡΌ‰•½΅”)΅δ±…Ή”°΅δΑ½ΝΡΥΙ”°΅δΉ…΅”€°΅δέ…­₯Ήœ‘½ΥΙΜΈ±°Ρ‘…Ё₯́Ή••‘•₯́„…Α…₯ΡδΡΌ‰•½΅”)ε½ΤΈ=Ή±δΡ‘•΄½Ή”₯́…‰±”ΡΌΙ•…Ρ”™Ι½΄₯Ё…ΉΡΌΝ‘…Ι”₯Ёέ₯Ρ Ρ‘”έ½Ι±Έ=Ή±δΡ‘•ΈΡ‘”)‰ΙΥΝ‘ΝΡΙ½­”‰•½΅•Μ„Α…₯ΉΡ₯ΉœΈ)I•΅•΅‰•ΘΡΌ•Ή©½δΡ‘”©½ΥΙΉ•δ°Ρ‘₯́₯́ݑ…ЁΙ•…Ρ₯Ήœ₯́…‰½ΥΠΈ)Ή₯©½±•Ι…Ν΅ΥΝΝ•ΈΉ½΄(ΰ