Awed by her splendor stars near the lovely
moon cover their own
bright faces
when she
is roundest and lights
earth with her silver
Sappho, Awed by her splendor
naked form, pencil on paper
Awed by her splendor stars near the lovely
moon cover their own
bright faces
when she
is roundest and lights
earth with her silver
Expression and freedom
what is a constant thought is the expression and freedom.
It is a dualism critical to every creator of anything, to any artist. Freedom and expression.
One tries to express himself in ways that recall the feeling of the receiver, the beholder, that there is something inner that wants to be set free. Not by deattachment but by turning the inner outwards.
And admitting that, is the first step. To nowhere specific, to the unknown. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
Then, by acknowledging it we can begin the search of the way...
It is a dualism critical to every creator of anything, to any artist. Freedom and expression.
One tries to express himself in ways that recall the feeling of the receiver, the beholder, that there is something inner that wants to be set free. Not by deattachment but by turning the inner outwards.
And admitting that, is the first step. To nowhere specific, to the unknown. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
Then, by acknowledging it we can begin the search of the way...
Η πρώτη γραμμή
Η πρώτη γραμμή είναι πάντα ένα πρόβλημα, είναι η στιγμή που αρχίζεις να βάζεις τον εαυτό σου στο χαρτί, καταθέτοντας το είναι σου εκείνη τη στιγμή.
Ακολουθεί μια μάχη σκληρή με τη λευκή επιφάνεια, πουπρέπει να την κυριεύσεις, να τη δουλέψεις, να την πλάσεις, να την κάνεις να πάρει μορφή.
Το λευκό σου επιτίθεται, σε προκαλεί. Σε αμφισβητεί και σε παγώνει. Δε θέλει να υποταχθεί.
Αυτός είναι ο φόβος του κενού. Για αυτό η πρώτη γραμμή είναι πάντα ένα θέμα.
Ακολουθεί μια μάχη σκληρή με τη λευκή επιφάνεια, πουπρέπει να την κυριεύσεις, να τη δουλέψεις, να την πλάσεις, να την κάνεις να πάρει μορφή.
Το λευκό σου επιτίθεται, σε προκαλεί. Σε αμφισβητεί και σε παγώνει. Δε θέλει να υποταχθεί.
Αυτός είναι ο φόβος του κενού. Για αυτό η πρώτη γραμμή είναι πάντα ένα θέμα.
Faces. Charcoal, watercolor, pencil.
'Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean,
Came children walking two and two, in read, and blue, and green:
Grey-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white as snow,
Till into the high dome of Paul's they like Thames waters flow.
William Blake, Holy Thursday
Us. A beginning
After a long period of rest, and inner search through valleys dry neither from inspiration nor fantasy, but from a complex system of oppresion, i came forth again with a quick sketch and i am ready to start again, slowly at this very beginning but steadily, thanks to you.
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