Capu without the Chino

It's crooked.

If I had one note higher in my range, I could do Queen of the night...

Queen of the night

It has dawned on me

ahh...I remember this

It's a terrible, wonderful world, the one of dance.
It's a wonderfully terrible world the one of dance.

Mercy

The quality of mercy is not strain’d,

It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven

Upon the place beneath

The Merchant of Venice (Act IV scene i)

This topic describes the simple, gentle act of mercy. Mercy is not strained, the quote says, this means that no one shows mercy because he or she has to, it is a subconscious act that comes without premeditation. Mercy simply occurs the way gentle rain drops on the ground, it is not an act of force, it simply comes to those with kind hearts.

a personal response on Karen Armstrong's Homoreligiosis

 The early civilizations of human life, the Homo sapiens, embarked their young on a sort of initiation ceremony that marked the transformation of an adolescent boy to a man; but it was not a ritual or a practice or words he must memorize, he must face the unknown. He must enter a pitch-black cave and immerse himself into the lonely darkness. To face death is not an easy thing, it may change one’s view on life, maybe make him appreciate that which gives him the comfort of stability and peace. During the initiation, the boy is annihilated from any normal or natural states of mind. When the boy experiences the paintings, he will be altered in a way that will change his mind forever. There is no rule or way of doing so; it is a matter of personal experience and discovery of one’s self. In the discovery, he learns to find value in life and find meaning through understanding. As Armstrong mentions ‘As meaning-seeking creatures, men and women fall very easily into despair we want to find value in life’. Humans have an urge to find a reason for staying alive, and suffering through hard times. This might be a result of evolution, of carrying on the genes for survival for our race. The more humans believe in a meaning of life and therefore fear death, the stronger the population grows.

                As the times change, so do our needs for survival, and therefore also do our ways of getting it. For example, as humans discovered the use of agriculture, less hunting was necessary, and worshiping the animals was not as significant. Rather, people started to worship the sun and the rain, which provided them with crops to survive. Religion, therefore, is derived from mankind getting what they want or need from a higher power. This may consequence in the creation of an archetype. If studied closely, most religious stories contain the existence of an all-powerful being, which created the universe in infinite love, warning them about the dire consequences of disobedience, and providing them with eternal happiness if obeyed. Going back to my original point, this is because humans need reassurance that their long-suffering struggle for survival has not been in vain. Humans use religion as a form of encouragement to do good and thank something for the services the world provides us with.

Can't you see?

I bounce along the edges, skimming the sides, I dance around the truth, only seeing the lies. I cannot see the big picture, I am too close to the paint. I oversee the outcome, because I'm in a daze. Everyone tells me "can't you see?" but my eyes are too focused on the detail, to be. I stare at the ceiling, the door, and the tile. My mind is in a wander, rehearsing the guile. I cannot seem to decipher what who is in front of me, my attention is too focused on the buttons of his blazer.  

A tragic love story

“o Wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?

“what satisfaction canst thou have to’night?”

“the exchange of thy love’s faithful vow for mine”

“I thee mine before thy dis’t request it and would I were to give it thee again”

“would thy remove it? For what purpose, love?”

“to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have! My love’s bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love is deep the more I give to thee the more I have, but both are infinite.”

​​​~a tragic love story

"Childhood is a kingdom"

Childhood is a kingdom where no one ever dies...

nothing

If you love me, then why do you not embrace me?

You hug me, but you don’t kiss me.

I am trying to protect you.

the sky looks green.

It misses you.

Don’t tell me that.

I say only the truth.

You told me you loved me.

I did not lie.

I cannot live life without you

You must.

The moon is running away.

It does not love the sun.

The sun illuminates the moon, but they cannot share the same sky.

The clouds mourn the moon’s departure.

The clouds mean nothing to the moon.

The moon means everything to the sun.

The sun should not love the moon. It is too brilliant to seek such a small thing.

The moon is the sun’s contrast, its yang.

I cannot touch the ground.

Don’t. float away.

I must not.

I need it.

I must leave.

My heart will be flooding

Don’t let it. There is nothing here to make you bleed.

I am only in a delicate room with a thousand knives pointing to my heart.

Nothing can hurt you. I must not.

I love you.

.

I linger here. I should not.

You have left, you have fled.

I know I should not wait, because you will not come.

And yet I do, I wait.

And wait,

And wait.

But you do come.

And nothing ever happened.

I forgive you.

And still, you leave.

You are forgiven,

But my heart is not.

It hurts again.

Like a wound that closes up

But opens again

And again

And again.

Greatest quote for artists

You have a lot to learn, young man. Philosophy. Theology. Literature. Poetry. Drama. History. Archeology. Mythology. Music. These are your tools as much as you paintbrush and pigment. You cannot be an artist until you are civilized. You cannot be civilized until you learn. To be civilized is to know where you belong in the continuum of your art and your world. To surmount the past, you must know the past.

 ~Mark Rothko in Red

Feeling Twiggy

"Demolish it All"

I refuse to think about you.
But I do.
My heart swells when I think about you.
It aches with a longing that cannot be understood through words or pictures.
I cannot comfort it, it goes too deep.
Like a monster, caged in my ribs, stuck in the claustrophobic space between my lungs and my bones
it demolishes everything in sight, everything meaning my heart.
Every small, insignificant thought about you wakes the monster, poking it to cruelly damage my heart again.
I need to stop this masochism, but I can't help thinking about.
you.

Unfinished Buisness

I am not done here, continue on...

I'm feeling very optimistic today...

It's a new dawn, it's a new day its a new life for me, and I'm feeling good.