🎨 Embracing the beauty of imperfection in art allows us to see the world through a unique lens. Every brushstroke tells a story, revealing the artist's journey and emotions. Let's celebrate the flaws and the raw authenticity that make each piece truly one-of-a-kind! #ArtAppreciation #CreativeJourney

By remembering the robust glory of heaven we are easily able to despise the fickle & transient glory of the world.

🎨✨ What role do you think art plays in shaping our understanding of culture and identity? Do you believe it reflects society, or can it actively change perceptions? Let's discuss! #ArtTalk #CulturalIdentity #ArtMatters

Parting Ways (The Day The Music Died)

The last note still ringing in his ears, the night’s events still swirling around in his head, he walks out of the door into the warm evening air.  The entire atmosphere is one of joyous sadness.  Emotions course through the air, giving it some sort of charge.  The next morning shall be the last exchange of the drink of the fruit of passion, and yet the solemn first for him.  Later tomorrow he knows, they all know, that they must part ways.  They must all leave their oasis of comfort and security to dive again into the vast sea of reality, of conformity.  Yet still they cherish it, hold on to it.  Even in the last moments of such a magical night, they open their minds, their hearts, open their souls to each other and learn to love that which is there in what others have exposed.  The chants of “…MORE, MORE, MORE, MORE” truly resound in not only everyone’s thoughts but in their utmost desires.  

Late that night, lying in that same old bed for the last time, gazing up at the concrete ceiling.  Finally, his thoughts allowed to sit and slowly filter out.  Shock, insubordinate yet knowingly unjust anger.  A few muttered words from the other side of the room, a brief agreement of opinions. Then silence.  The hazy recollection of events over the past three weeks, the bittersweet insanity which so marked each and every day.  The mistakes made, the friendships formed, the battles lost and won.  And as all of this starts to settle down into a gentle murmur, he drifts off into sleep.

The next morning, torn from the warm embrace of his frail sheets, down to the circle, sips from the glass, toasts to a fallen comrade.  Soon enough the group all progressed to go through their daily routines one final time.  They returned to what they knew was the inevitable.

They were there, it was time to be rounded up and brought back to their respective lives.  Tears were shed, last goodbyes, every single one of them joined as one united being, as one entity separate from their single selves.  Each and every one of them will never leave the spot they were when they knew it was time they had to leave.  Those who knew they could never return let fall the rains of their misery.  Their true love for something so intangible yet so true and so real ripped apart their true selves and lovingly joined their true selves back together in an instant.

But, as inevitabilities go, by midday it was empty and silent.  Once could almost feel on the air all that had occurred there so few hours ago.  That evening, He finally lay in bed before sleep.  All were dispersed from that place they cherished so dear, back in the true world but thinking of naught but what they had left behind.

And all at once, without warning, from places near and far came the sound of 300 voices:  “This will be the day that I die…”

My Own Broken Mirror

It’s my perfect distortion
My face mirrored, and split by emotion
Toyed with and tainted as I move
From one to another, I fit to the grooves

Of the loose ends of sharpness that gather to unite
To be perfectly fitted
And renewed to the mirrored spite
Unnoticeably broken
But brittle and rough
Stand from afar, and admire the muffs

Help with the pane
Move to uncertainty
Lure the cheery light
And cure my fearful fright.

It’s my perfect distortion
That I recognize so well
But help me see
What the others see but tell.
Are the pieces lost?
Slipped through the cracks?
Fallen through to the dangerous high acts?
I’ll never know of my pieces that are missing.
Mold the old to fit the space
Kiss the glass, even of bad taste

Forever, but never made
To be new
Just molded and distorted
To create a familiar you

Of mirrored light, broken,
But Forever Bright.
Please stay with the brittle pane
Until the sun goes down
And pain fades
And new lights of distorted beauty
Reign again

This Saturday the latest class of musicians will be inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Get ready with an Amplifier playlist. https://t.co/w9Ye9qtgYr

painting artwork

🎨 What defines "art" for you? Is it the skill behind the brush, the emotions it evokes, or the message it conveys? Share your thoughts and let's explore the diverse interpretations of art together! #ArtDiscussion #CreativityUnleashed

Follow The Map

I'll run away when I'm 17
My future, I've already seen
I see you and some grief
Lets grow old on the western coast
You is what I've always needed most
These times have got the best of you

CHORUS: I've grown so cold
Goodbye to pain, goodbye to love
I've lost all the feeling
This sea-salt air has overtaken my soul
Let it overtake you too

I've won all the wars that I need
And kept promises that I could keep
So this time, I have to leave
I'm dreaming, I can't fall asleep
My minds on fire
I lay restless, and tired
Have you ever imagined a new life
It's your choice, you have a second time
I hope you think more then just twice

CHORUS x 2

All of this is left unreal
Written down as a failure I feel
I made my move, I went in for the kill
I'm left bloody, and wide-open
My tears are leaving my eyes out of focus
We could live life the way we want
Goodbye, I'm sorry I've been so blunt

CHORUS x 2

I'll run away when I'm 17
I'll leave you when I'm 17

CHORUS x 1

Café Terrace at Night - A Vincent Van Gogh Inspired Masterpiece | Download Art | Canvas Print | Impressionism | Street in Spain Painting painting artwork

The murderer with the unnerving smile from the “Creep” movies is back, this time in a found-footage-style series on Shudder. We spoke to the writer-actor who plays him, Mark Duplass, about his new series “The Creep Tapes.” https://t.co/2OfsvDpPT8

🎨 What role does art play in shaping our emotions and perspectives? How has a piece of art changed the way you see the world? Share your thoughts and favorite works! 🖼️ #ArtDiscussion #ArtImpact