What is this beauty anyway...and why do I believe that it alone can justify my life.
And there it is, contained within the sacred hands that taunt me with their superiority and make me once again realiza
how insignificant i am. sooo i will show you the paintings that make me cry those tears of envy.
And thus I present you with those paintings that make me believe I am alive. Some from well known masters and
others from unknown artists I think its worth your time to look up.
|nude on color
I never seem to tire of that classic subject in the painting of human form... the lady in repose. She has had countless
names, features, moods and beauty but she is always somehow the same. This piece touches me with a surreal quality I
enjoy. It seems as though she lies in the midst of her own dream, unaware of the thoughts she is missing, and content
to be as she is. That sort of makes me wonder if our dreams continue to proceed as we go through our day. does
our mind make up stories that we'll never hear.... do we lie there inside of some beautifully colored garden, all day,
even when we feel like there's no beauty left to find...
sometimes when i feel as though life must end or destroy me completely, i find that the only hope i have is what
beauty i cannot deny. if only i could create such joy and sorrow on the canvas i defile with my fingertips... perhaps
the i wouldn't have to justify each breath i have to take.
He always painted that woman, of red hair and pale, pale skin. She must have been so graceful, with skin that had
that perfect glow that very few people can claim... did she think, as he painted her in repose, that she would be remembered
in the history of beauty... that she will be fixed in time, in that perfect blush of youth, for as long as we have the art
that we've made...
Beauty blushed at just the right moment, and her almond eyes sparkled with a joy I couldn't explain. Oh it was
so easy to find solace in her warm smile, but being with her was as temporary as each breath of air you swallow. her
sinuous form slid to and fro between the shapes of my imagination, and I had to concentrate with dedication just to stay by
her side. "why do you try so hard to find me..." she said with an unexplained smile, "I've been here all along, existing for
each moment you chose to find me." And from that point I understood.
there are few things in this life that remind me that I might not be alone. This painting is one of them.
I see in this creation a clear reflection of my life. I see this vulnerable, naked woman running from some unseen monster.
She seems to live in an almost colorless world, and yet there is beauty in the starkness of her surroundings. I feel
this in my own life as I run from the demons of a past that won't leave me in peace, and experience life in a flat world that
offers little hope of connection. This might seem something to make me sad as I look at it, but it actually makes me
feel better... I never felt understood before.
I love to walk on sidewalks by cobblestone streets at night. The best nights are the ones that are
still damp with the gift of springtime rain, then you can look up into the canopy of trees and find the glimmer of raindrop
diamons on golden green leaves by the gaslamps on you way. And the ground shines proudly lighting each step as cars
glide wordlessly by... then beauty stops being some far off idea you have to take the time to see. It is an undeniable
presence keeping you company as you gather forgotten thoughts, and remember the touches of lovers you thought were lost.
I love to walk on sidewalks at night, especially after the rain.
there are times when you lie in yur bed, perhaps talking to someone, and you feel like each inch of your body is seperate...
at least I feel like that sometimes. I love this style of art because it evokes the memory of that rare feeling.
And that feeling may not be good, or bad... it is just interesting... like dreaming while you're awake. the colors...
so soft and ... pretty... why do you think that is....
So what is beautiful today.... let's see, I saw a beautiful man. His hair fell into his eyes in just the
right way, and the speckles of light floating in those pale blue eyes seemed to reveal something I didn't understand.
Yes, he was beautiful, and then there was a bush I saw. It was somewhat large, I'm actually not sure if it was a bush
or a tree, but it had beautiful green leaves and long long blanches that stood proudly in the sun. In those beautiful
leave were clusters of flowers, and I laughed because they looked like the popcorn balls my aunt used to make when I was a
kid. I thought that I would love to paint a picture of a beautiful bush with popcorn ball flowers... but i've never
been very good at horticultural painting.
The River... this painting is simply beautiful. I love the curves and colors... I don't really see anything that
doesn't make me feel a little better about being alive.