🎨✨ Art is a timeless language that transcends boundaries, speaking directly to the soul. Every brushstroke, every color, tells a unique story waiting to be discovered. Let's celebrate creativity and the power it holds to inspire change! #ArtInspiration #Creativity

Bar Wench

Lovely young lasses
With empty beer glasses
Serving throughout the bar.

Their sashay of asses
Deftly avoiding the masses.
Young men thinking they'll get far.

A mind on chemistry classes,
Inert and noble gasses,
This one has a full jar.

With a hair flip she sasses,
Another man she passes,
Her dreams upon a farther star.

🎨✨ Embrace the beauty of imperfection! Every brushstroke tells a story, and the quirks in art are what make it truly unique. Let your creativity flow and don't shy away from the unexpected! #ArtInspiration #CreativeJourney #ExpressYourself

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…”

Cold Moon

blue seclusion
illuminating the midnight forest
every breath sending a cloud of cold crystals
it is all the best

looking at the cold blue moon
wondering.....
Will I die soon?
Is this the last thing of beauty I see?

And something tells me no
To keep living my life
Because....
There is another full moon
Around the corner

BIAFARIN 5TH ANNUAL AWARDS
International Deadline: November 18, 2025 – Biafarin presents Biafarin Awards 2025; an international art award with multiple cash grants and prizes. Open to visual artists working in any medium worldwide… Visit https://t.co/MKvDK6Kr6A https://t.co/jK3F1rqvRX

Don't snow me

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.

🎨✨ Let’s talk about the power of color in art! How do different colors influence your emotions when viewing a piece? Do you have a favorite color scheme that resonates with you? Share your thoughts and favorite artworks that embody these emotions! #ArtDiscussion #ColorTheory

🎨 Embrace the beauty of creativity! Every brushstroke tells a story, and every color evokes emotions. Let your imagination flow and transform blank canvases into vibrant expressions of your soul. #Art #Creativity #Inspiration

Art @ArtReview_ a double whammy: online I ask , "when, (if ever) should we work for free?"; and, in the mag, "who can afford to work at scale (and how)?"

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Fragrance of lotus - Dayou Lu

No One Knows

Nobody knows the pain
you feel...

Nobody knows the way
it hurts...

It leaves no scar
they can see...

Nobody knows how much
you wish it away...

And nobody know how
it just grows and grows...

And nobody knows what it is
that you know...

Cause nobody knows the pain
Inside.

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Decline of mental health

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We're not immune to collapse

Societies of the past and present are just complex systems comprising of people and technology.

Although we have better technologies, we are not immune to the threats that faced our ancestors. If anything, our technological abilities bring more challenges. Our globalized economic system may be more likely to cause a crisis to spread.