Wednesday, 28 January 2009

New Age

The effect caught in this picture is breathtaking

The amazing colours you can only get in some places

It's so well taken, that it captures you, and hypnotizes you profusely, like the guy in the picture.


Beautiful contrast of two worlds very well known and seperated in our society

He sais in a way it represents Jesus.
I don't know what I feel when I see this picture, but it attracts me so.

Different pictures of a talented yooung man called

Christopher Alex Maragakis

To contact him:

Monday, 26 January 2009

Thursday, 22 January 2009

Check it out!

She's very good, and even though she's french, she did this single in english, but still has the same stile as her french songs.
She has a very different and very new vision, concept and style, it's a mixture of many kinds.

You won't regret it.

Wednesday, 21 January 2009


This paintor is very fotographic, I like the realness of this paintings, they have feeling and beautiful expression, because he captured the beaty of the moment and gave it a twist by adding something of himself.

Tuesday, 20 January 2009

A thought went up my mind to-day
That I have had before,
But did not finish,--some way back,
I could not fix the year,

Nor where it went, nor why it came
The second time to me,
Nor definitely what it was,
Have I the art to say.

But somewhere in my soul, I know
I've met the thing before;
It just reminded me--'t was all--
And came my way no more.

Emily Dickinson

A comment with a poem of mine

It's a constant thing for me,
Thoughts that just fly by
To be remembered for their existence
But not for their persistence

Tell me pelease, if you can see,
The truth within my words,
Is it for you, as it is for me
Like music from two swords?

I'm crippled, with this burdon
The river flows no more
My memories are seldom
And my brain is just to sore.

Alexa Honey

Thursday, 15 January 2009

The ending is also a new begining

I would apreciate the constructive critisism you have to offer.
I know I might have a lot of ortographic mistakes, as well as gramatical, and if you could make those mistakes known to me, I will be very thankfull to you.

I woke up this morning, not knowing what to expect.
I knew there was something important about to happen, but agiain, I always do
There was something coming, and my heart kept pounding to the drum beat beeing plaid, probably in the back of my head.
The phone ringing in a corridor far away, made me come back to reallity.

All my dreams suddenly snatched out of my head.
I went blank, and with no warning, my boddy shot down and collapsed on the ground.

I finally woke up, to huming sound, a lullabay my grandma used to ing to me when I was young.
My full of memories, began to dream again.
I could see a big garden, so extensive that it touched the horizon,
I could smell every flower my mind popped up infront of me.
Every smell felt so real, that I couldn't belive it was just a dream, so i tried to pinch myself, tried to wake myself up, to prove to everyone that what I was seeing was so real, I couldn't wake up.
Sundelly I felt my eyes parting, and unconciously letting in the light of the room, my vision was very blurry, but the smell never faded, I could feel a smile curling up my lips. When I was about to move I heard a voice say:

- Emma, can you hear me?

She sounded scaired, but didn't understand why at first, I had a look around once my sight came back, I saw in her hands a bottle of flower scented liquid, which I guessed, was to try and bring me back to the real world. When I saw what had caused that panicked voice come out of my sisters mouth, I screamed until I had no breath left.
I could see a river of blood stainig my dress up till the hem, I couldn't understand what was happening at the time, firt I thought it was my monthly blood visit, but then after the shock passed, and I could think more clearly I realized it was an abnormal amount of blood that was rushing out of me, like if it were scared of something inhabiting my insides, I was loosing blood per minute, and I didn't know how to stop it, so the only thing my boddy could do, was to go into an uncouscious state again.

I woke up in a white room with a horrid stench.
Looking around the room, I could recognize some of the things, I could see beautiful harvested flowers from our house garden, on a parallel couch to my bed, there was evedence that led to the suspicion that my sister had been sleeping on it for several days.
Out of the blue I heard a beeping sound coming from my right, it was very constant, like the rythm of my heart, and then it hit me, I was in a hospital, and then I remembered the previous events, and understood what I was doing there.

A few minutes after my realization, a doctor came into the room to check up on me, when he saw I was awake, he tried to make me comunicate, so he started asking a couple of questions.

- Miss Doyle, how are you feeling?

But I only stared right at him, not that I couldn't answer because I was ill, but while he asked me, he gazed right at me with those penetrating eyes, I just los my breath, I couldn't get a word out of my mouth, and he kept on staring, untill I finally had to look away or would start crying, because, in all my life, wich is not much, but enough to know this, I have never seen such a beautifully breathtaking face, those eyes would melt whatever fell under their spell, and that moutn beautifully shaped, could hug you forever if you let them cath you.

After looking away, and without looking back, I tried to speak, but he beat me to it by asking:

- Miss Doyle can you hear me?
- Yes. I answerd, blushed and ashamed.

He saw that, so he said he would come back in about half an hour to explain everithing to me, and in the mean time, he would send my sister in for us to catch up and for her to take in the good news of my recent recovery.

When she came in, the first thing she did was to come near my bed and hug me, while the water drained out of her body as tears. I wanted to ask her what had happend, but her crying moans filled every corner in the room, so I waited untill she had no tears left to cry, and she explained me.
All the bood loss was due to the miscarriage of a pregnancy I wasn't even aware about yet, it was a one and a half months pregnancy. There where problems with the embryos chromosoms, and it was natures way of ending a prengnancy in which the child will be unable to survive.
The doctor came back just when my sister finished talking and Iwas about to ask her all the questions that lined up in my mind. He looked at me, and I began to cry, I could feel myself blushing, but I didn't care anymore, I stared right at him and asked to tell me what my sister had just told me, I needed to hear it again.
So he explained me everithing and answered all my questions.
He explained how this was a miscarriage of chromosomal anomalities, where there where problems in the chromosoms of the embryo, which is the most common reason for loss of pregnancy, and are found in more than half of miscarriages occuring in the first thirteen weeks.
Miscarriages apparently eliminate about ninety-five percent of fertilized eggs or embryos with genetic problems, its natural selection.
He explained how this spontanious abortions of this type, usually occur before the woman even knows she's pregnant.

I had to ask:

- Was it my fault? Am I defective somehow?
- No. Most chromosomal problems happen by chance, and have nothing to do with the parents. They are unlikely to recur. He said I couldn't breath, I fealt my throat closing, and I imagined a hand squeezing my lungs and taking out the air in them, and out of nowere I was hyperventilating. He took my left hand and right shoulder and stabilized me, looked right into my eyes and said: - You need to take small chunks of air, and try to steady your breathing, your expereancing a panic attack, and if you don't calm down, you will faint. He instructed. While trying to steady myself I kept on looking at his eyes, and as near as he was I could see the beautiful clowd gray colored eyes where probably with the right lightI could see a clear reflexion of myself, his hair, a very dark black hair, medeum length for a man that framed his rectangle shaped face, he had short side burns that matched the color of his hair, and a golden skin that shone in the sun light. He had very stong hands, I knew that because his grip on my sholder, and toned arms, even though I could only see his fore arm due to the robe he had on him, but still I could tell. I found peace in his eyes and started breathing evenlly little by little until I I was back to the normal breathing rhythm.

-Can I have a glass of water, please? I croaked

He looked at my sister, and she handed me the glass on the night stand next to my “bed”, if you can call them beds, I can’t believe how uncomfortable they are, I wish I were home tucked in my warm bed, safe from the world. I drank the water in gulp, but my mouth still felt dry.

-For how long was I out? I asked.

-You lost a lot of blood, which leads to a decrease of oxygen in the brain, and naturally your body entered a coma state for three weeks and two days. He explained

Three weeks. That’s a long time to be asleep, what had I missed? Did my sister get scared for me? Do my parents know I’m here? I have so many questions that are drilling a hole in my heart, I feel so empty, like if my essence had been forced out of me, and only my body remains.

-Are mom and dad here? I asked quietly to my sister.

-No, they just missed you, they went for a bite to eat twenty minutes ago. She said with sad eyes, probably taking in my state.

So, with all that information floating in my mind, and the shock blocking my ideas, I was pretty much out for the rest of the evening.
I woke up at about two thirty in the morning, to see my dad, lying on the couch near my bed.

-Dad, are you awake? I said cautiously.

-Hello darling, how did you sleep? He answered with a tired voice.

-It was a dreamless sleep. How did you sleep? Did I wake you?

-No honey, I havn't been able to fall a sleep since you where interned in the hospital.

I said nothing to that, it's not that I didn't want, I just didn't know how to reply to such an honest and painful answer.

-The doctor said you will be better in a week, and we can take you home then.

There was a moment of pause.

-Dad, I'm scared. I said with my eyes closed.

I couldn't belive I was saying this, I was the tough one in the familly, but the recent events had left me with no strength to keep up that ilusion. I wanted to be there for my dad, to be the tough one, asume my role in the familly, but every part of me, reminded me I had no strength to hold on to, that I was alowed to be weak in a moment like this, but it still felt weared, confessing myself to my dad.
His face went hard with pain and frustration, I know he would have wanted to do more, he wished it hadn't been me, but as it was me, he blamed himself for my misery. I wanted to confort him, but I didn't know how.

-The world is round and the place which may seem like the end may also be the beginning. Was all I said

He knew what I meant, Ivy Baker Priest, had been a recent topic in family discussions, my sister is studying political science, and she made her thesis about Ivy Baker Priest, and she made us well aware of her existence.

We stayed there staring at each other until we both eventually fell asleep.

Pour faire le portrait d'un oiseaux

Peindre d'abord une cage
avec une porte ouverte
peindre ensuite
quelque chose de joli
quelque chose de simple
quelque chose de beau
quelque chose d'utile
pour l'oiseau
placer ensuite la toile contre un arbre
dans un jardin
dans un bois
ou dans une forêt
se cacher derrière l'arbre
sans rien dire
sans bouger...
Parfois l'oiseau arrive vite
mais il peut aussi mettre de longues années
avant de se décider
Ne pas se décourager
attendre s'il le faut pendant des années
la vitesse ou la lenteur de l'arrivée de l'oiseau
n'ayant aucun rapport
avec la réussite du tableau
Quand l'oiseau arrive
s'il arrive
observer le plus profond silence
attendre que l'oiseau entre dans la cage
et quand il est entré
fermer doucement la porte avec le pinceau
effacer un à un tous les barreaux
en ayant soin de ne toucher aucune des plumes de l'oiseau
Faire ensuite le portrait de l'arbre
en choisissant la plus belle de ses branches
pour l'oiseau
peindre aussi le vert feuillage et la fraîcheur du vent
la poussière du soleil
et le bruit des bêtes de l'herbe dans la chaleur de l'été
et puis attendre que l'oiseau se décide à chanter
Si l'oiseau ne chante pas
C'est mauvais signe
signe que le tableau est mauvais
mais s'il chante c'est bon signe
signe que vous pouvez signer
Alors vous arrachez tout doucment
une des plumes de l'oiseau
et vous écrivez votre nom dans un coin du tableau.

Jacques Prevert

This is one of my favorite poems of all times, and I wanted to share it with you.
When I was in elementary school, they made a contest, where whom ever wanted to participate, could, and so I did. The contest was to make a drawing, just exactly as the poem described you to, step by step. I don't know where my drawing ended up, and I recall I didn't win, but it is still a grand memory I cherish, because at the time, while reading it and painting it, every bit of me felt powerful, and even if it just was my imagination, wings grew upon my back and my feet where barely touching the ground, and suddenly I was flying over my school, watching every little detail that went by, it was marvelous.

Where are we going?

By Gustav Klimt

What is it about art, that changes people?
Throught the years, paintings have been a way of expression, and every once in a whyle, there are changes, in tendencies and styles, which reflect on the way of thinking, and the kind of liberty and path the society the painters live in, and how that transforms the works from one century to the other, but it's not such a big diference know, because the changes have been happening faster and faster, those that mean we are evolving? Or, does it just mean we have lost our way, and don't know how to find it?

Tuesday, 13 January 2009


This paintings from this paintor have a more child like sensation, it's like a picture from a childrens tale.
The painting has very bright colors, that complement the unatural beings in it. With no more than imagination, you can almost fell as if that world where real.

By Ray Caesar

Eyes are the windows of the soul

By Sas Christian

I love this painting, it makes me feel warm, I love the colors, and how it's such a simple look forward, as all our paths lead, but their such a sincere eyes, and with true fealings, that the painting comes alive, because the painter captured the escence of the model.

Monday, 12 January 2009


I recently found this painter, who paints sweet but also sour.
It feels like a struggle, like she can not decide what to be, because on the outside, she is this sweet girl, but thats just appereance, though on the inside there is something eating her up, and she becomes a beast, a unstoppable power that grows inside of her, and will end up shoving aside the sweetness of her image.

By Kelly Haigh

For all Starbucks hatters out there!