At an altitude of 14,270 feet Pangong Tso is one of the world’s highest altitude lakes. The long lake winds its way through spectacular mountains and while doing so, its water changes colors, according to the time and mood of the sky ahead, shifting between shades of dazzling blue to emerald green.
Archives for August 2014
There are things we cannot understand in this world. We try to find some place within or hearts to come to peace with the reality of those that continually divide us as humans, and as result destroying the “all.” Until we see one tribe, we will continue on a path of human destruction. This poem is a way for the writer to come to terms within herself and a need to see the end of killing. When youth are killed, a great consciousness is torn apart as well.
My work explores the essence of beauty. It can be found in both the powerful aesthetic of glamour and the charm of imperfection. My objective is to find a balance between realistic representation and interpretive impressions meant to communicate the feeling and mood of the piece.
Why leave it to your grieving relatives, who will be furiously looking for your will, to make important decisions? Regardless of how comfortable you are thinking about your own demise, isn’t it your responsibility? And besides, wouldn’t it be nice to have the last word, once and for all?
“…her words have disappeared, (but) her meaning is still with me…”
Covering 227, 600 square kilometres, Victoria is roughly the size of Great Britain and within its compact boundaries are a huge variety of landscapes and associated experiences.
Ever wonder what differentiates Good from Great Art? What gives some images that extra superior edge in comparison to all the rest. What is going on in our subconscious mind when we look at these images?
I ended up being attentive enough to spot a momma bear with her cubs, who actually let me get within 20 feet of her when she wasn’t by her cubs, making for some amazing (yet heart pounding) images.
She learned to drive when she was only eight years old, riding shotgun in the passenger’s seat, her hands on the wheel while her daddy worked the pedals and shifted gears. The pickup smelled of cigarettes and beer, but she loved the bumpy ride in the forest to the old bridge…
Are you creative? Do you ever run into dry spells … you know, where you cannot finish anything? Do you ever blame it on your muse? I do … sometimes … but less these days … sometimes it’s just up to us!