This is blurry, somehow inexplicable,
for those who raise their glass with emphasis
above the dinner table...
Now for an idiot to enter and offer gifts...where angels breathe...
Time to give in to a testimony but, is this poesis...
When thundery sounds heard from afar...is it thunder or
A dispersed snake winding parade in the shiver of noon?
my personal cyberGallery, yes. a space of personal expression as a visual artist. the net, fortunately, is not a substitute for a gallery, a museum or a book. it is nevertheless, a mean in its own right. an effective tool of mass communication, a fatal one in the wrong hands.
Essence, sense and senses arise from the earthly soul of Mother Earth, erosion of relentless time. Rust and its patina, transparent beauty of Minoan frescoes, the gift of prehistoric cave paintings. Fire. Fire burning through bleak ordinary routine.A need for personal expression, earthly colours, nostalgic remembrance of things passed, symbolic gestures, and steps of mankind urge through misleading alleys.There again, rust, the Classics for eternal comfort. Essence through images. Order comes in haste. "Abstract", "Figurative"...meaningless terms Imposed.
all contents©stratos fountoulis