We got things over our heads. I have not got words to explain what I made and how I made... will do the description soon. Maybe my dear viewers can add something to this. Let me know what a rabbit, a puzzle piece and a cycle mean to you.
Monday, 20 August 2012
We got things over our heads!
We got things over our heads. I have not got words to explain what I made and how I made... will do the description soon. Maybe my dear viewers can add something to this. Let me know what a rabbit, a puzzle piece and a cycle mean to you.
Thursday, 26 July 2012
Friday, 23 December 2011
Wednesday, 14 December 2011
Blue Sky
Sometimes when you lie down on grass,
maybe in your backyard or in some park,
Your arms crossed behind your head,
you stare into the empty sky;
the clear blue sky;
There are no clouds to look at,
There are no birds chirping in the background,
There is no aroma from the sweet flowers to melt into,
But just the clear blue sky;
You can think of nothing,
but all the things that have gone past by you!
maybe in your backyard or in some park,
Your arms crossed behind your head,
you stare into the empty sky;
the clear blue sky;
There are no clouds to look at,
There are no birds chirping in the background,
There is no aroma from the sweet flowers to melt into,
But just the clear blue sky;
You can think of nothing,
but all the things that have gone past by you!
The sky becomes your canvass,
your thoughts paint colors onto this canvass,
your thoughts paint colors onto this canvass,
your mind makes time-lines and shapes;
All those years that have gone past you,
the episodes of life, the dramas, the convict,
and the judged, false security, violence,
love, logic, wisdom, and the madness,
now appear on this canvass of life;
Time flies past,
it is like a dream time,
living life in a dream;
Nothing can be retrieved from such dreams,
but colorful memories,
memories that make you smile,
memories that bring goose bumps on your skin,
memories that make you cry,
memories that bring sparkle to your eyes,
memories that make you weep;
Sometimes a bird flies through this painting of life painted on the canvass of sky,
All those years that have gone past you,
the episodes of life, the dramas, the convict,
and the judged, false security, violence,
love, logic, wisdom, and the madness,
now appear on this canvass of life;
Time flies past,
it is like a dream time,
living life in a dream;
Nothing can be retrieved from such dreams,
but colorful memories,
memories that make you smile,
memories that bring goose bumps on your skin,
memories that make you cry,
memories that bring sparkle to your eyes,
memories that make you weep;
Sometimes a bird flies through this painting of life painted on the canvass of sky,
the colors and the shapes on canvass disappear,
and once again,
you stare at the clear blue sky.
and once again,
you stare at the clear blue sky.
First Feelings of Life
Yes! This is my first ever blog post. And it feels fresh and new.
Like a baby would feel when he walks for the first time.
Like a flower would feel when it blossoms.
Like a bee would feel when it extracts the nectar from a flower
Like a blind whose vision has been restored.
Like a bird which catches it prey.
Like the Sunrise.
Like the calm sky after a stormy night.
Like the thirsty deserts who get their rain.
Like a baby would feel when he walks for the first time.
Like a flower would feel when it blossoms.
Like a bee would feel when it extracts the nectar from a flower
Like a blind whose vision has been restored.
Like a bird which catches it prey.
Like the Sunrise.
Like the calm sky after a stormy night.
Like the thirsty deserts who get their rain.
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