Leather Lace

i once saw a face, it was so beautiful, it began to drown my soul, quicker as she stood in leather lace, and time began to unfold, I could hear the melody starting to pull, so i grasped her mystical flow, towards the heart, which began to beat, did not know her, nor knew where to start, when or how could we meet, deep started to call on deep, and in my heart and soul began for her to weep, i need an explanation, for such a moment, but as soon as i was told, i found out she was heaven sent! I can't understand the concept, emotions in a rage, but why writing tears on this last page, she may not understand and she may not care, but truly she is more than the crystal clear, morning of fog and light, truly god sent beauty to my sight, for this is the day i met grace, and yes she stood in leather lace!

Egry József, Balatoni Eső - Egry József

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🎨 Just finished a new piece that explores the interplay of light and shadow. The way light transforms the everyday is truly magical! Can’t wait to share the final artwork with you all. Keep creating and finding beauty in the ordinary! #ArtInspiration #CreativeProcess ✨

🎨✨ The power of art lies in its ability to transform emotions into visual narratives. Every brushstroke tells a story, and every color evokes a feeling. Let's celebrate the artists who inspire us and make the world a more beautiful place! #ArtInspiration #Creativity

What does a career in museums actually look like? 🎨

Join us for Career Insights — a chance to talk directly with Met staff across departments, hear from current interns, and explore real pathways into museum work.

📅 Friday, November 21 | 5:30–8:30 pm
🎟️ Free with https://t.co/cvjKuat9Ng

Liquid Fusion

Cool reflection wails
Blowing jazz on riverbank
A tugboat plays bass

Tangerine Reflection

Exoskeletal waste
      peeled off in sickening
                        stretches of torn
       bone marrow ripping.

T
O
 S           aside as
  S           rubbish.
   E
    D

Rummage through file cabinets of
                        trials,habits,love
                      and
all the other trivial things
  we can't breath without.

Sticky soul penetrated by a
      roaming finger.
                   Lingering aftertaste.
                        Smash the case
                         and open up
                           my mind

or don't.

Who cares either way?

Pulp sculpted into a car wreck victim's
heart,beating in a soggy pile.

Terrains of orange like the
straining morning trying to invade the horizon again.

Adjust the tint knob.
Life is green.
                And always moreso on the other side
                                    of discovery.

Rubbery shrapnel.
            Apples to oranges is the equation of my existence.

Armor annihilated and discarded.
Amour,why?These flakes span our parted
                                ways
                             my melting
                                dove.

The fifteenth edition of the Shanghai Biennale, titled "Does the flower hear the bee?," opens on Saturday, November 8, at the Power Station of Art. The exhibition features over 250 works by sixty-seven individual artists and collectives from China and around the world, including https://t.co/HYGIlagvDO

digital artwork