a group of trees in the foreground with a mountain in the background
https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1635746067004-fbbdaff9dfdc?fm=jpg&fit=crop&w=600&q=80&fit=max
, genre: genre painting, style: Realism, gallery name: Palazzo Pitti, Florence, Italy, tags: Lady, Botany, Tree, walking, 1870s paintings from Italy, completition: 1870.
https://uploads0.wikiart.org/00214/images/silvestro-lega/silvestro-lega-a-walk-in-the-garden-wga12634.jpg
, genre: abstract, style: Transautomatism, completition: 1980.
https://uploads2.wikiart.org/images/friedensreich-hundertwasser/switch-board.jpg
two turned-on computer monitors
https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1576750514178-8152320a4a14?fm=jpg&fit=crop&w=600&q=80&fit=max
it's every fear that you dared to ignore
in a shiny black mercedes and walking up to your door
but if you don't like me anymore then why am i here
i can see millions of voices behind your every sneer
bury me underground
i will not make a sound
you're pushing my teeth in
you're making a scene again
you'll find yourself alone in the end.
it’s every hand that you declined
there's nothing left to do when i am stuck in mine
dropping a heart when it beats out of time
i need my indifference just to survive
bury me underground
i won't make a sound
you're pushing my teeth in
you're making a scene again
you'll find yourself alone, in the end.
do what it wants and bend till you break
my apathetic face is starting to ache
smiling at the walls proved too much to take
so we took to digging holes instead
bury me underground
i won't make a sound
you're pushing my teeth in
you're pushing my teeth in
you're making a scene again
you'll find yourself alone, in the end.
, genre: sketch and study, style: Realism, tags: forests-and-trees, Tree, Woody plant, Plant, Branch, White pine, red pine, Botany, Forest.
https://uploads8.wikiart.org/images/ivan-shishkin/the-tops-of-the-pines-1.jpg
My face dry and burnt from the afternoon sun,
Facing toward forever.
Behind me, a world of pain and anguish,
One step forward, a solution.
They yell from below,
But their voices are trivial.
They didn't care then,
They don't care now.
Slowly breathing,
There's no turning back.
I let myself fly,
The wind on my side,
And soar from the peak of despair.
Falling into an endless ocean of darkness,
Into the pain, that no one bothered to notice.
Ripping the air,
Like a knife plunged deep,
A blur out the window,
To those who would cynically glance.
A waste of skin,
A waste of time,
A waste of life.
Blessed,
Sweet,
Pavement...
Free to leave the office to enjoy dinner with my family before tucking my kids into bed…
Free to pursue my definition of success…
This also always helps me to weigh opportunities properly. Does this give me more autonomy or less?
Screw whether it’s fancy.
Screw whether it’s what everyone else is doing, whether it gets me a few more followers or a couple extra dollars. What matters is freedom.
Because without freedom, what good is success? As Seneca said, “Most powerful is he who has himself in his own power.”
It doesn't work like a check-list: You can't check each item off, get to be happy and old for a couple of decades, then you die. Problems don’t go away, they change and evolve. And accepting life's imperfection is hard because it forces us to accept that we have to live with things we don’t like.
Here's What Bothers Me About How 'Paris in Ruins' Rewrites Impressionist History | Artnet News
A review of Sebastian Smee’s 'Paris in Ruins: Love, War, and the Birth of Impressionism,' which rewrites the origin story of modernism.
https://t.co/hlve2R2mRq