life

Jacob named the place Peniel, "Because I have seen God face to face," he said, "yet my life has been spared."

Do you want to have a bite?

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life, follow your heart.....But take advice from your brain for backup support.....

Putting the painting of the newt aside for now. It was not going as I hoped (see previous post)...I still have ideas but feel like I need to work on some things before progressing. Thinking it was the eyes, so decided to work on some studies. These creatures do have fascinating eyes!

A3 format, acrylic, mixed technique We sat around the campfire, talked about everything a bit when someone asked: - Can you tell us your thoughts about death? Old Bone is pulled pipe from the backpack, filled it with tobacco and lit. We have been waiting patiently for the response of this unusual being, deep age, and great living experience. - Everyone would like to know the truth about death, whether it is the full end of life or a new beginning, " said Old Bone - It is wiser to ask questions about life, the purpose of life, and keeping the spark. Truly, few are looking for the truth about life. I believe that with only the complete knowledge of life, one can perceive what is happening after death.- - How to explain the messages of the dead through the media, learning religions about reincarnation, heaven, and hell, eternal life, testimonies of survivors of clinical death? - Fraud and delusions, speculation - calmly replied Old Bone - You must know one thing: there are doors between life and death, The Door Keeper will never let the living know what happens after death. The secret of death only he knows - and that's enough. I think life can only survive this way.

A3 format, acrylic, felt pen, colored pencils Visual artists from the World of Fantasy are familiar with these creatures who are alive to every creator. Their court cannot be affected, there is no way to deceive the inner voice that knows the truth, created by the Observers. When the artist starts with some work, they appear, at first in a small number. At the end of their work, eg some pictures or sculptures, and especially when finished, their number is significant, they carefully study the artwork, and if they see a mistake, disharmony, lack of emotions, etc., dissatisfied will grumble somewhere inside artist's insights. The artist will feel that his work is nothing special, similar to many other artistic attempts that disappear in the dark of forgetfulness. Some spark is missing in his artistic creation, which would do its job gave a life that lasts. The disapproval of the Observer, their unpleasant resonance, if frequent, it can make a more sensitive artist to dump the brush and consecrate himself a completely different job, in which self-criticism does not play a significant role.

Find the heart!...and follow it......:) Yes, it is red, the last time I checked.

"I cried because I had no shoes,until I saw a man with no feet....life is full of blessings,sometimes we are too busy to count them"-anon #count ur blessings :)#aristina.z #originals #autodesk sketchbook

The last male Sumatran Rhino in Malaysia has passed, yet Harpan (the baby here) still lives in the Sumatran Rhino Sanctuary in Indonesia

50% of my commission on this piece is donated to the World Wildlife Fund. Prints available for purchase here: https://tinyurl.com/y45rdm28

I did these two watercolour pieces today! Just want to post to get any feedback you might have. New to art so sorry if it may not be your taste.

What a mess! I am never good at flower arrangement!

Painting done on a 24" x 36" canvas with Arteza and Master's Touch acrylic paint

Réalisation du portrait de @Sylvie Adigard dans le cadre de la préparation de l’exposition : « Les chroniqueurs de #Télématin sur #France 2 et la dissipation et vapeur de la mémoire télévisuelle.

Andy Dooley teaches to "enjoy the meantime" when struggling in life or working toward a goal. It's extremely helpful! So today I'm making a point to enjoy the little flowers in my yard.

A doodle a day keeps life sweet.Penned with fine liner pens. A3

Sorry, a gloomy one. Have you thought of how the last breath could be depicted? I was not planning on anything. This was my subconscious speaking out of a scene in my life. I found this image hidden in my doodle lines.

Ink and Graphite. HJ or BJ? Decisions Decisions. Even though life gets difficult at times, you still always have the power in your hands to make the right decisions for the circumstances that you CAN control...

Artists from the planet Earth believe that inspiration is an inner energy that gives them ideas, mental power which strengthens the will to create a new work. We Assheads from the World of Fantasy, we know that inspiration is a living being that manages the actions of artists, states them to actions that normal man would not do. We consider the coming of inspiration - to a reasonable extent - good for creativity, but if the inspiration gets us in a firm hug and does not give up, it can have a devastating impact on the individual. In such instances, inspiration shows their other, insidious nature, about which little is spoken. Inspiration will, for example, propel artist - as the devil sinning soul - to constantly create, to eat is not thought, to be many nights sleepless, his sexual life can suffer, etc. Striking inspiration, such as a comet in the head, can, in some cases, result in a straitjacket, even death. We Assheads know that it is not wise to give advice to the artist struck by inspiration, warn him that there are still other joy and values in life. His inspiration closed his ears, he works with him as with a toy, so the artist could retaliate with aggression, considering that his personal freedom was compromised. For these and other reasons, we Assheads, marginal artists from the World of Fantasy, do not give special importance to artistic inspiration. - It's important to paint something, dance some dance, make some melody - says asshead Caci - - no matter what you create, there will always be someone stupid enough to see art in it.

Colored pencil

White chalk

Abstract

I've been inspired by mountains, trees, and wildlife in general since moving to New Zealand. It's a new feeling and I like it.

Yummy fresh avocados too delicious not to capture its beauty.

It's always fun to come to the Art gallery of the assheads, marginal artists of the World of Fantasy. Today I have seen the picture you are looking at, it made me interesting, as more people worked on it, not considering the picture as a whole, nor the work of its predecessors. Then, out of a large cardboard box, an old man came out and came to me. There were two big holes in the box, so I realized that the guy was looking at me from the box for a while. - Do you like the picture? - he asked. His eyes, red from lack of sleep, staring at me. On the old clothes he wore on himself, there was a stain of color. - I was impressed with - I said cautiously, knowing the unpredictable nature of people who deal with art - Did you do it? His face was stretched into a smile, a few teeth that he had left, flashes from the mouth cavity. - Yes - proudly erect his chicken breast an old man - Inspiration wore me all the time! He looked at me with a look that required my other questions about the image, need to tell any story, to anyone, about his work, was in it taut like a catapult. - What inspired you? - I ask the old man, and he barely welcomed the question and said: - Last week I was visiting my friend Jergon, the King of the Dwarves. (His statement that the mighty King of the Dwarves his friend was so incredible, that it must have been true. Assheads usually have unusual life stories.) "It is well known to you that the dwarves appreciate their privacy, keep their place of residence confidential and may be ruthless if you disturb them. As a friend of Jergon, "the old man says," I have surely passed the territory of the dwarves. As I approached his home, I noticed more and more than the vicinity of his underground apartment - in the old roots - was edited by the gardening techniques of the dwarves. Dwarves worship their king and their nature makes them do something for him every day. For example, to clean the weed and planted rare plants and flowers around his house. Some day they polished the old root under which the King lives. So the environment of his house went out completely artificial, unnatural. The king is angry because he now has no privacy, his home has become like a public park, sweet hide, dear dwarves, was taken away from him. He told me. "Dear friend, if you think it's nice to be a king, you are not right. Everything has its own price." This visit inspired me to paint this work. - I nodding my head as if to understand how much potential was in that situation, so inspiration was a natural consequence. - Art freedom is expressed here - I said to the old man - maybe with the King of the Dwarves, on it, the picture was even more effective. The old asshead looked at me strictly and asked: - Did you see the King of the Dwarves? "I did not even see an ordinary dwarf," I admitted. The old man looked at me for a moment or two with a disappointed look, then he turned and entered the box. I felt a look from the box on my back as I left the gallery.

The freshness of morning withdrew in front of the warm rays of the sun. The Wizard of Cirilo Bum and I came to the High Meadow, one beautiful gazebo, where we planned to spend a day off. - Only those who work hard and get their work done, fully enjoy all the pleasure of a vacation - said the wizard Čirilo Bum. I did not answer him, my life plan was to work as little in life, for that reason, I have taught for the wizard at him. By the time we took the time to see the water that emerged from the earth, in the air she created a form of grapes and spirals of various colors that had disappeared in the unknown. The Ghosts of water had fun, trying to show each other their skills. We chose a place on the edge of the High Meadow for our accommodation, where we could watch the landscape: meadows and forests scattered to distant mountains of dark blue. Above us were an old, large yew tree as created to keep us from the strong sun and the negative energy. Below the meadow was stretched by which a dozen young dragons rode along and across, skillfully changed the direction of movement and twisted with their long bodies, they played hunting. Hidden in the crown of a large oak tree near us, pointed snake watched their game with their big green eyes, but I noticed that she quickly dropped into sleep. Then I remember that I did not do some important jobs yesterday, Čirilo Bum will definitely see it when we get home. It spoils my mood a bit, and I pulled out of the baskets a few of the dried sausages that the old wizard worked so well. Full stomach I always better mood. - There are rare opportunities to see the Big Redbeak - suddenly spoke Cirilo Bum - bird right now wants to snatch egg. I stared for a while around so Čirilo Bum says: I said Big. And indeed, I find him so big that several other creatures sought accommodation in his body. Cirilo Bum spent almost all day hovering in the crown of the old yew, napping with a satisfied look on his face. Every time I was constantly tortured by the fact that I would have to listen, a critic of the old wizard, when we come home because of my unsolved tasks. My nervousness I softened so that I ate all the food from the basket. Late in the afternoon, we went home, from the trees they began to descend some new, hitherto unseen beings in search for food or night hideout. Spirit of water was gone, but a good part of the way, perhaps from curiosity, we were followed by other inhabitants of the World of Fantasy, were to me welcome companions, I took my thoughts with them, to the house. A 3 format

my new work! - Here he is, he comes! - Pepe Fajgl said, pointing at the top of the hill. The environment was typical for the territory of a mortician: valleys overgrown with low grass, and with some high ground. Pepe Fajgl and I left the corpse Henri de Functa at the foot of the hills and watched the Mortician as it approaches the dead body at a uniform speed, his beautiful eyes were fixed to the deceased. "It's wonderful," I said to Pepe, - it is certainly longer than 20 meters. - The Morticians are the beings that all the inhabitants of the World of Fantasies respect and love, since they have appeared, the precious earth is no longer polluting with graves and cemeteries, number of burning corpses and then a terrible smell almost came to zero, pollution of the lake and the sea throwing the dead into the water stopped. After Mrs. Death takes life and the soul went away in the wheel of the final verdict, it remains only material, dead, a bit valuable part once alive being, the meat that becomes a problem for family and community. Mortician comes to the dead body of the late Henri, its enormous mouth silently sucked corpse, he turned, and dignity went behind the elevation, the problem was solved forever. A 3 format

Croissant Pen, ink, gouache on paper

City Life