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Art Needs YouA scene can be painted with words as well as brush strokes. The words are like the colors. There tone, the specific word, can change the meaning of a sentence drastically. The page, whether it is a computer page or paper, is the canvas.
It is the blank slate that an artist must put their mark. The idea can be daunting-How am I to fill a space so white? So blank? Then the words-or the paint-begin to flow. The idea was there all along, just waiting to be freed. It may not be what was originally intended, but it is art nonetheless. It doesn’t have to be Da Vinci or Hemingway. It may never reach greatness. However, you created something, no matter how novice, or how professional. Its practice, learning, and heart. You can’t have art without heart.
You pour heart and soul into everything you create. It makes the art come to life. You post it with faith and hope. Faith that you’d done the best you could. Hope that others would like what you worked so hard to create
Time MachinePeople always dream about being able to go back in time,
but what they don't realize is that they can.
Every time you read a story, listen to a record,
or watch an old film, you're time traveling.
So go ahead, pick up a book, listen to a classic tune,
watch a movie, and discover your time machine.
EncouragmentOur days are numbered, and ain't that true?
You look on the news and only see whats prophecized in the Book of Revelations, but what can you do?
It's important that we expose people to Christ and his miracles. No, we cannot always influence them to believe, but we can at least tell them about the man of peace.
As for those who do/ who are beginning to realize Christ, try not to look forward to the upcoming days, but to Christ coming back. No matter what trials society tries to give us, no matter the discrimination we will feel, just always take refuge in Christ.
No matter what happens, if you believe Christ with all your heart and you choose to live by his ways, you will have a place in his home.
Poetry and Photography- A personal quote of mineI capture things with a camera. I let go of things with words. My artistic pursuit is a never-ending story of catch-and-release; I never get to keep my ideas for very long...
Don't Get Me WrongIn the old days the quickest fast track to fame and glory involved sleepless hours, relentless drawings, painting, and studies month after month, and years of work to create a single masterpiece that would insure them that their name would be carved on the marble pillars in the great hall of history's famed and legendary artists. However, (and not all that surprising) one would only need to create MLP Fan Art in order to cast such a great shadow over all other artists that came before them.
Two waysOnce upon a time, two men, brothers in soul, wondered how to seek the path to wisdom, the older decided to live a hermit in the tallest of the cusp, to live and ponder the meaning of life by himself for some years, but the younger decided to stay in society and the safety of home, disposed of course to seek his own path with the favor of his people and the daily routine.
As the time passed and years changed, the countdown for the meeting was up one day, and both brothers encountered their stories, eldest opened up the conversation:
“During my time in the mountains I had time to ponder and think, the meaning of life and develop my mind, peace and feed my soul, and what did you learn, brother?”
“During my time at home, around my family and people I know, between my problems and my productive life, I learned many things from people, morals and valuable feelings from my mistakes and triumphs, my flaws and talents, I helped many people change just as much as they helped me
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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