Fleeting moments of unadulterated silence

Fleeting moments

We have been given a late summer this year, yet my heart isn’t letting go of winter peels.
Joy struggles in the shadows, planning an escape that bounces off the walls of life. Of the mind.

Happiness is truly within.

Sun might enhance the rainbows of our soul, like contrast adding sharpness to a photo defining its contours but it isn’t the essential ingredient.

Yet, I inherently know delight lies in wait, lurks around the corner. A lifetime doesn’t vanish into oblivion.

I slow my pace in all good summer tradition, setting aside guilt (for imposing my will to those around me) living days moment by moment, listening to the pulses of nature, savouring every sound, celebrating the notion of nothingness surprised by the calmness that proceeds, appreciating the wonders of wildlife accompanying us wherever we are, on a daily basis gone unnoticed…

We are born to think motion is the only motor of survival, the only form of sanity but we forget to retire for a while from the hubbub to calm the nervous energy that comes with it.

We still have more than a month left. I know this might last no longer than the ink absorbed unto this page but I won’t forget so easily those fleeting moments of unadulterated silence & invite you to do the same 🙂

P.s
A very pleasant summer to you all!!

Advertisement

In a nutshell you write your own script

In a nutshell You write you own script

In a nutshell you write your own script.
This is a project very close to my heart and one busy simmering, maturing and elaborated to its last detail since about 2013.
The title says it all. The script on the nutshells were very carefully selected after long research. These came from very rare newspapers focusing on the positive changes in our environment.
The position of the nutshells represents life’s journey, each one’s path.
In the next posts you will get a chance at seeing the words close up. The last shell is about a seventy year old man climbing a mountain top.
The pieces on the sides are the unsuccessful scripts we have written and discarded as a writer does.
I am familiar with that concept… I have been writing since a young age.
(You can check my writing & poem category if you are interested).
We chose the music we play, the weather of the day, our kids schools and their success as a result of right choices made… You will all find it on this canvas.
The drip painting representing life’s force will always be faithful to the Jackson Pollock’s method that had and still has a tremendous influence on the works I display.
Note the half nutshell too… the close up of old, tired, tossed, undesired and repetitive scripts some whitened over…the (accidental) T shape.
You are the observer, free to use and enjoy the interpretation of your own experiences and perspective.

Please take a moment to check my
other links: Instagram LIFE_PAINTINGS
https://instagram.com/life_paintings/
Facebook: https://m.facebook.com/profile.php?id=489714007854314
For orders please contact life_paintings@hotmail.com

In a nutshell you write your own script

In a nutshell you write your own script

In a nutshell you write your own script

In a nutshell you write your own script

In a nutshell you write your own script

In a nutshell you write your own script

In a nutshell you write your own script

The slip

Sane paradise
©copyright2013owpp

It happens, but after a whole year of peaceful food plan it took me by surprise…again.

Life is made of continual adjustments. Visualize a ballet dancer performing on the rooftop of a moving train, will she/he succeed in providing a flawless performance? No. There are bound to be hiccups.

Well, that is just how I felt as I decided to ban fish from my plate. Never used in excess, nevertheless an important protein I was very fond of.

Being a vegan for twenty five years, I have tried in the past to eliminate all “living” foods but could not muster the needed energy to function on a daily basis so, fish became the exception.

Amidst this blissful quietude came the news (see my last post) shaking my now rooted sane habits of a happy normal life, questioning my profound beliefs in substantial foods.

Those are the vibrations I sensed in the soles of my feet, throwing me off balance and bringing skeletons out…the ones so far back in the closet, belonging to a forgotten past, dislocated from a happy present, so strange to my blessed moments, never dreaming it would ever come in to say Hi, how are you, long time no see…

There was no dread, just numbness. I could not recall the despair felt in the past which should have given me the strength to say…Never again! With all the force needed for mettle and slipped for a few days in a stupor classically brought on by overeating.

My answer as always was my pen, the vortex draining my mind from thoughts circumnavigating to no end and leafing through my long forgotten attempts at writing essays on the subject as a jolt to my dazed condition…awakening me to realization.

Through the reading I plunged into a world that did not belong to me anymore, I was scouring through the life of a stranger, the field was so unfamiliar I wondered how my followers took the time to read through the rambling desperation having the kindness to even comment and like .

At the time the confusion, the pain felt very real, the blog becoming my only instrument of relief, allowing me to publish my unpolished thoughts and accept it for what it was, silently begging forgiveness from my readers and gratefully accepting the generosity of their patience.

A place I would rather keep far away and swap for subjects of art close to my heart. Today.

Today
©copyright2013owpp

We, your mirror and a flash of kindness-September 1992 –Adjusted January 2013

©copyright2013owpp

We, your mirror and a flash of kindness
———————————————–

Omitting love, kindness and patience from our lives, we are empty barks.
That sees without eyes, walks without feet, hears without ears, feels without a soul and appreciates
but ones pampered ego.

How much does it cost to make another feel welcome with an unexpected call, if only for a few
seconds. Greet them with a genuine smile, a warm Hello?

Just love, kindness and a flash of patience. And by this gesture comes…

A hint of sunshine.
A warm spot for the day.
Zeal in our step.
Wrinkles brushed off a forehead.
Pride in a demeanor.
Back bent under indifference, straightened.
Monotony of a cluttered day and clattered mind, alleviated…

For him, for her, for us.

Next time we go through such a day, remember…
There is someone with a heart wrinkled by the monotony of daily indifference, waiting for that spot of warmth…

Me, you, our fellow, our shadows…

WE.

The impracticality of distance February 1996 readjusted to a prose January 2013

Lido 2012
©copyright2013owpp

Those are writings from the 1990’s which I thought I’d never use due to my
lack of experience then, in writing but to my delight and surprise ( I do
surprise even myself! ) I got down to work on Sunday, took the core and changed
it totally using the words that cried out in attention and putting it in a prose
versus the article it was. I was astonished and

pleased at the result which shows, there is always a time for anything we write,
given we have patience and believe anything is possible with a drop of will 🙂

The impracticality of distance
———————————

One O’clock
All is silent
Each one
Long gone
In their own
Planet of dreams

My mind floats
To many ports
One of them yours.
I think how
Far away
You too are long gone

In your world
Your vision
Inhabiting one
So strange to me.
Doing those same things
Void of mystery.

Eventful or not
Working, unwinding
So simple, so alive
What life is all about.
Practical
And tumultuous.

The ink flows
On my pages
Engraving words
Buried deep
Silence surrounding
This cubicle of thoughts.

Trying to make sense
Of life, of my love
For you.
They are there
Fooling me
Appeasing you

Erasing the,
Impracticality
The impossibility
Of distance.
Secrets of the night,
Leaving the world

Of darkness
Drifting toward
Daylight waking
To sunshine
Bracing a day
With the stamina

Of a professional.
Cold sometimes
Suppressing it,
Wanting to bury
Under covers
Your ingenuity.

Recognizable
Routine
To the bare eyes
Yet different.
By the impracticality
Of distance.

Sleep is… 1991 ( Translated in English with French original text )

©copyright2013owpp

This small piece is in the same style and written around the same time,
as the one I posted yesterday.
I hope you’ll like it 🙂

Sleep is…
———–

Sleep. A total submission to nature.

We cross the threshold of the unconscious
In complete freedom of choice. By need. By lack.

This lack, this ” weakness ” transforms you, puts you
in danger, sometimes, makes you see life other than it is.

Sleep is a submission to the unconscious where we cross the
threshold of nature.

________________

Le sommeil
———–

Le sommeil. Une soumission totale à la nature.

On franchit le seuil de l’inconscient en toute
liberté du choix. Par besoin. Par manque.

Ce manque, cette ” faiblesse ” vous transforme, vous
met en danger, parfois, vous fait voir la vie tout autre
Qu’elle ne l’est.

Le sommeil est une soumission à l’inconscient où l’on franchit
le seuil de la nature.

Getting used to quality 2012 ( O.A Experience )

©copyright2013owpp

Hi everyone!

Do you know how usually you take a book and start at page one because that’s how it’s done, you follow the rules, but then, just once, tell yourself, what the heck I’ll start where I feel like starting and find yourself starting at the end. Then becoming so captivated by the writer’s style that you find yourself leafing the pages backwards?
Well, that’s what I felt like doing today.

I had in plan of presenting to you the first essay I had written, but then, today wanted to go with the feeling not the rule. Throwing all caution to the wind and giving you my last work which is of today called ” Getting used to quality “.

Getting used to quality
———————–

My longest abstinence, of not so late, lasted three months.
Three months of bliss, of being and feeling ” normal “. Those are times when one feels touched by the grace of our higher power ( or whatever you feel like calling it ).
We could be, day in day out, in the presence of all our binge foods, staring at us, yet, know in our mind and heart that it’s not ours.

We don’t do this anymore. We do life. We experience it happening and appreciate every moment as it comes, in all its blessings.
We have projects, plans, enthusiasm and go about realizing them as the natural flow of life.

We don’t feel heroic, just happy to BE. In its full sense.

No thunder or lightning, just tranquility and satisfaction of going  where the stream takes us.
So, logic would demand a continuation of what is good no?

Yet, we relapse over and over again. Nevertheless, relapse get fewer, shorter and abstinence longer as a consequence.
The wisdom collected along this arduous journey is priceless too.
We shouldn’t underestimate that. It becomes a powerful tool to help oneself and others in program.

But how I pray to get that motivation and zest for life back again!

How I long it to invade the empty space It had left on Its way out.

That’s probably part of the journey. The more we’re abstinent, the more we get use to GOOD in our life, the less we settle for mediocrity.

There’s awareness to quality versus quantity.

Quality becomes the essence. The truth. And we’d rather give up the quantity of food we’d stashed up in our body oblivious to the treasures laid at our feet.
The treasures of light in our life. That’s what we call quality today.

Thank you for taking time to read this.

Hello world!

The lioness 2011
©copyright2013owpp

Welcome to my new blog.

I’m very excited to present to you, my paintings, Poems and O.A Essays I’ve been collecting in the past years.

Feel free to give positive feedback.

This is one of my favorite paintings I made of a lioness hunting in Kruger park, South Africa. My ” header ” picture is one of them too.