Une ile

"La possibilite d'une ile" - acrylic on canvas 80x80cm.

"Et l'amour, où tout est facile,
Où tout est donné dans l'instant;
Il existe au milieu du temps
La possibilité d'une île."
Michel Houellebecq, The Possibility of an Island

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Jungle

"Oriole" - oil on canvas, 60x40cm, inspiration for holidays far away. Closest image to paradise, the tropical jungle, the point if no return.


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Masculin & Feminine

"Hera" - 60x80cm oil on canvas.



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Radioactive

Umi Berries - oil on canvas 40x60cm.

Inspired by the incident at Fukushima nuclear plant.

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Black

"Foret - Noir", oil on canvas 60x40cm.

I like the Black Perl poem:

http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black_Perl

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Neither-nor

Su-27 Mango, oil on canvas 60x40cm.

Neither fright, nor play.

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Dantelle

Atat de delicata e dantela timpului. Cred ca trezirea sufletului se poate face incepand cu momentul cand realizez ca in orice moment totul se poate sfarsi iremediabil. Cineva drag imi poate fi luat. O catastrofa poate distruge tot ce am cladit intr-o viata. Un eveniment cosmic poate sterge din istorie mica noastra planeta. Oricand. Cand realizez asta cu toata fiinta privesc totul altfel. Cu smerenie. Cu iubire. Fiecare mugur. Fiecare secunda a existentei. Fiecare licarire din ochii Angelinei. Fiecare imbratisare a lui Terry. Toate aste sunt prinse in dantelaria timpului. Cred ca mai am mult de muncit pana sa ma trezesc la realitate. Dar am facut primul pas si ma bucur de lucrurile reale, nu de inchipuiri si de impresii.
Aseara am fost cu fetita mea la medic, speriata ca ar putea pati ceva rau. Si m-am gandit cati parinti trec prin momente infricosatoare tinand in brate copiii lor si nestiind cand si daca timpul lor impreuna se va destrama. Printre ei si parintii nepotelei mele care a suferit recent un transplant.
Tesem dantela timpului si cred ca e important sa o admiram si sa o iubim, e facuta din toate experientele pe care am avut sansa sa le traim ca oameni. Respiratie cu respiratie.





"New Dream" - 28x36cm, ulei pe carton.

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Sorbet

"
Where does the hand become the wrist?
Where does the neck become the shoulder? The watershed
and then the weight, whatever turns up and tips us over that
razor’s edge
between something and nothing, between
one and the other. "

Ex. of "Gooseberry Season" by Simon Armitage, see the whole poem here:

http://m.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/gooseberry-season

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Emerald City

Church II
a poem by Iulia Toader
Copyright 2014

God is a house in the heart of the village
To discover him you have to search within not without.
If you go in you see all the upside-down wonderland;
If you go out, you only find the other buildings,
Other images of Him hiding,
If you shout, nobody comes.
But God hears and He's smiling
Behind the crumpled drapes of the dreamy house.

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My poem today

Church
by Iulia Toader
Copyright 2014


God is an architect
God is a kid
Playing with smiles and tears
God is a surgeon on the flesh of the atoms
Healing infinite fears;

God is a postman, a thief and a liar
Spreading a faint rumour of reality 
God is a mistress, an addict, a ghost driver,
God is not guilty, your Honour.

God is a weaver, a warrior, a dancer
God dances with the stars within us,
Please, may  I have this waltz?
Hush, little baby, God is the answer.

Emerald City

Emerald City - 80x60cm, oil on canvas.


The Emerald Tablet

1. Tis true without lying, certain & most true.
2. That which is below is like that which is above & that which is above is like that which is below to do the miracles of one only thing
3. And as all things have been & arose from one by the mediation of one: so all things have their birth from this one thing by adaptation.
4. The Sun is its father, the moon its mother, the wind hath carried it in its belly, the earth is its nurse.
5. The father of all perfection in the whole world is here.
6. Its force or power is entire if it be converted into earth.
7. Separate thou the earth from the fire, the subtle from the gross sweetly with great industry.
8. It ascends from the earth to the heaven & again it descends to the earth & receives the force of things superior & inferior.
9. By this means you shall have the glory of the whole world
10. & thereby all obscurity shall fly from you.
11. Its force is above all force. For it vanquishes every subtle thing & penetrates every solid thing.
12. So was the world created.
13. From this are & do come admirable adaptations whereof the means (or process) is here in this. Hence I am called Hermes Trismegist, having the three parts of the philosophy of the whole world
14. That which I have said of the operation of the Sun is accomplished & ended.

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Inevitable

"Fizzy Marilyn" - 60x80cm, oil on canvas.


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...woman!

"Phenomenal II" - digital art.

“I don't trust people who don't love themselves and tell me, 'I love you.' ... There is an African saying which is: Be careful when a naked person offers you a shirt.”
― Maya Angelou



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Phenomenal

"Phenomenal" - digital art.

" I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally."

Maya Angelou

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/178942

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Pink war

"BUK Jelly" - 60x80cm, oil on canvas.

"
Revenge sounds like the name of a tragic opera
Suicide sounds like the name of an electric floral medicine grown by god
Lucifer sounds like the name of a sheltered library nerd
flowers are examples of natural drama
the moon is a voyeuristic boat in the sky
who has attended every funeral and has peeked at every kiss ever given

this year was a century
until it was shaved in half by a cold and pink war

how sickly a peptic, watered-down pink can be
when it isnt softest skin or the land before birth
"

I found this poem about war. It was what I had in mind, expressed so clearly in words. For the whole poem of Luke J. Holt here: http://m.poemhunter.com/poem/pink-war/

I really liked the end of the poem.



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Where to?

"Flyfloat" - 60x40cm, oil on canvas.

I found a beautiful poem here:

http://www.estherkamkar.com/healing-poems_floating-poem_wings-over-water.shtml


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Courage

"Yuki" - a portrait, 40x60cm, oil on canvas.

"For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start all over again."

Eric Roth - The Curious Case of Benjamin Button Screenplay

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Is it a bird?

"Paravis" - 60x40cm oil on canvas

"Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. In their gray visions they obtain glimpses of eternity, and thrill, in waking, to find that they have been upon the verge of the great secret. In snatches, they learn something of the wisdom which is of good, and more of the mere knowledge which is of evil."

Edgar Allan Poe - Complete Tales & Poems

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Nymphet

"Nymphet" - 60x80cm, oil on canvas.

"The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields;
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall,

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten--
In folly ripe, in reason rotten."

"The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd" by Sir Walter Raleigh

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Bored Angel Smoking a Cigarette

"Horatiu's Angel" - 60x80 oil on canvas.

"Souvenirs, souvenirs, what do you want of me? Autumn
Invites the thrush to fly through the air lifeless sans tone,
And the sun beats its rays down: relentless monotone
Over the yellowing wood where claps the North wind’s thunder tone.

We were walking all by ourselves as if in a dream,
She and I, haïr and thoughts buffeted by the wind’s non-esteem.
All of a sudden, she turned towards me her looks agleam
« Which was your most beautiful day? » did her lively golden voice beam.

Her voice soft and sonorous, a fresh timbre angelic.
A discreet smile she did redeem as a reaction cyclic,
And her blanched hand I kissed with devoutness.

Oh! the first flowers, how their scent liberates perfumes!
And the first sounds they emit akin to charming murmur
The first « yes » that escapes the lips of virgin dames consumes!"

Nevermore
By Paul Verlaine

Credits: http://m.poemhunter.com/poem/nevermore-translation-of-paul-verlaine-s-sonnet-nevermore/

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