While painting, I followed the dream - just enjoyed the vision and everything looked OK .... Yet the curiosity peeped back, and the sorrowful musings blurbed the cheerful artwork - I inquired myself either need my creativity though anybody? Why should somebody pay for my luck? If I haven't money to frame my works, that is just my own problem, isn't it? People enjoy the colorful canvases, but not the life of the artists. I too wish to talk not about personal disasters but the light that comforts and leads us all. So why do I grieve for the pictures that are buried in my archives?
While painting I identified myself with the blow of the wind, while writing the description of this handicraft, I discovered what should be weeded out of my garden - it is easy to explain the selfishness, but not to justify such thoughts. That's why I love to blog. It helps me to look at myself without any prejudices.
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