Posts

Looking-glass River

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This painting in Acrylic (size 24”X18”) is an interpretation of Reflections in general and an ode to a great poem "Looking-glass River" a 1900 poem by RL Stevenson .................. Smooth it glides upon its travel,  Here a wimple, there a gleam--  O the clean gravel!  O the smooth stream! ..................... To read the full poem follow: https://www.lnstar.com/mall/literature/rls/Looking-glassRiver.htm

Ode to Kathmandu

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This painting in Acrylic (size 24”X18”) is an ode to Kathmandu and also an interpretation of the poem " The Green Eye Of The Little Yellow God"  a 1911 poem by J. Milton Hayes .................. There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu, There's a little marble cross below the town; There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew, And the Yellow God forever gazes down. ..................... To read the full poem follow: https://allpoetry.com/The-Green-Eye-Of-The-Little-Yellow-God

Ode to New Year

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Always a night from old to new! Night and the healing balm of sleep! Each morn is New Year’s morn come true, Morn of a festival to keep. All nights are sacred nights to make Confession and resolve and prayer; All days are sacred days to wake New gladness in the sunny air. Only a night from old to new; Only a sleep from night to morn. The new is but the old come true; Each sunrise sees a new year born. -Helen Hunt Jackson

The Dream

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Our life is twofold; Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world, And a wide realm of wild reality, And dreams in their development have breath, And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy; They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts, They take a weight from off waking toils, They do divide our being; they become A portion of ourselves as of our time, And look like heralds of eternity; They pass like spirits of the past—they speak Like sibyls of the future; they have power— The tyranny of pleasure and of pain; They make us what we were not—what they will, And shake us with the vision that's gone by, The dread of vanished shadows—Are they so? Is not the past all shadow?—What are they? Creations of the mind?—The mind can make Substances, and people planets of its own With beings brighter than have been, and give A breath to forms which can outlive all flesh. -George (Lord) Byron [complete

O Lisboa!

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This one is dedicated to one great city -Lisbon and also to lots of those foreigners who have been here and stayed way longer than they had planned. With love and regards to the great city!! And also one great poem that i just found by Fernando Pessoa O que me dói não é O que há no coração Mas essas coisas lindas Que nunca existirão… São as formas sem forma Que passam sem que a dor As possa conhecer Ou as sonhar o amor. São como se a tristeza Fosse árvore e uma a uma, Caíssem suas folhas Entre o vestígio e a bruma *** What hurts me is not What is in the heart But those beautiful things Which will never be. They are the forms without form That go by without pain Being able to know Or love to dream them They are as if sadness Were a tree and one by one, Its leaves were falling Between the trace and the mist.

Missing Connection

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From beginning till the end Life makes us want to  Weep...  ...and Smile... ...and Breath... ...and Feel... And often in between Lost in- Missing Connections

Dolomites Blues

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And I keep flying in the dreams As if suspended in a facade Unconsciously - truth or mirage Wandering around into the direction To the people and valleys far away Where the memories draw me!! [ http://peedus-erimihg.blogspot.pt/2013/09/dream.html   ]