TREES - CALL FOR ONLINE ENTRIES
International Deadline: December 8, 2025 – Photographers are invited to submit work reflecting the theme “trees” to A Smith Gallery Online Exhibition. Forty-seven image exhibition. Multiple awards, publication… Visit https://t.co/kJcm7lff6e https://t.co/0L5b8eNNAU

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!

Hey diddle diddle, hes on the fiddle

Hey diddle diddle,
the Cats on the fiddle,
that Cow must be wired to the moon.
The little Dog barfed,
as we all had fun
and the Dish got clubbed with a Spoon...

ali-p 2003

Colonel Thomas Alexander Cobbe (1788–1836) - Robert Home

🎨 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

Upper Twin Lakes in the Colorado Rockies - David Johnson

Testing

Ceiling on the area of Vida y Obra de General Ignacio Allende - David Alfaro Siqueiros

We rounded up nine movies that our critics are talking about this week, including the latest from Jennifer Lawrence and Sydney Sweeney. https://t.co/bb86ABaeuX

Study without reflection is folly.

Reflection without study is risky. 

The Cured - Ferdinand Georg Waldmüller

Aurora Volando - Gerardo Dottori

Bae’s work leaves a trail of fine- and popular-art influences that might in turn speak to the shape of the general aesthetic of our times https://t.co/nQUoeBXfsX

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…”