Not today…

riskI spent most of today sleeping. Not because I was tired, but mostly because I felt like doing nothing. When I finally decided to get out of bed and write some stuff, the power went out. Ironic, isn’t it? I had spent most of my day telling myself that tomorrow I’ll have plenty of time to write, and when I couldn’t, I panicked.

There are few simple truths in life, and one of them is the fact that we rarely appreciate what we have until we lose it. Until it can no longer be. We tend to take things for granted, and when those things are taken from us, that’s when we realize how important they were.

We’ve always despised the ghost of what can no longer be. Continue reading

About these ads

An artist’s artist

“Keep your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ground.”Theodore Rosevelt

I think this one should be my motto, because I’m a strange mix between a realist and a dreamer. I’ve always wanted an extraordinary life, I’ve always felt that I was born to be great at something. I dream big, okay? I want to be the hero of my own life’s story, and I want it all: the good and the bad, and the great, and I never, ever give up. But I also try to keep my feet on the ground, to take it easy… step by step. To figure out exactly what foot I should place first.

To me, there are only two things worth fighting for in this life: art and love. And there are no rules of engagement. It’s all about hope, about passion, about the fight that resides inside our souls, about the spaces that rest between people… about the million different ways those spaces magically disappear. Continue reading

No More Time

Originally posted on story-a-week:

Here we are, holding hands, staring down at the dark, endless abyss. Here we are, standing at the edge of forever. Time does not exist here.

It’s just now. No future, no past. Just now. A singular moment, an infinite stretch of emotions and words left unsaid.

“I could conquer the world with one hand,” I tell her. “If only you’d hold the other.”

View original 599 more words

How to become an artist

writerIt seems to me that we spend our childhood building our initial vision of the world. We do our best trying to answer as many questions as possible, and in our eagerness to understand everything around us, we name things and label them and we think that we’re absolutely certain that things are exactly how we see them.

And I also feel that we always return to this initial vision. Continue reading

Art is the new black

Originally posted on irevuo:

art_blackAs promised, here it is, another article about art. In my opinion, art isn’t something to be discussed in a few lines, so I feel like I didn’t make it any justice. The reason I believe so, is because the other day I only managed to establish one of the rules, today I feel like covering another aspect.

We are surrounded by many forms of art ; movies, music, poetry, novels, paintings, whatever floats your boat. Everyone is free to embrace it as they wish but things aren’t going exactly like they used to and I am aware that sounds like a cliche. Unfortunately, it’s true.

View original 510 more words

Arting out loud

Cristian Mihai:

Indeed. Irevuo is making a comeback. Or at least trying to. Check this out.

Originally posted on irevuo:

artArt. A simple word, covering all the beautiful aspects in life. Three letters, used to sum up hours of crying, unrecognized feelings and emotions, loneliness or substance abuse. If you are not falling apart, you can’t have the word. Art is not meant to describe your happiness, but to make others happy. One’s misery can easily turn into someone’s rock, if you know how to polish it.

View original 399 more words

Good Morning, Paris

Cristian Mihai:

In case you’re wondering what those “projects” I’m working on really are. I’m excited to introduce “story-a-week.” Each Tuesday I’ll be posting a short story. For your entertainment. And stuff. Hopefully you’ll enjoy.

Originally posted on story-a-week:

Everything she did carried with it the solemn grace of a ritual. Her mornings were alike, but never the same.

She’d walk out on the balcony of her small flat to stretch her arms and legs and breathe in the new day. Her lungs filled with something more than just air, something exhilarating and fresh, wearing a pair of black shorts and a white undershirt, her naked feet caressing the marbled floor, she’d smile at the lethargic city.

“Good morning, Paris,” she’d whisper, staring at the Eiffel Tower cutting through an angry sea of buildings, cars, and noises.

As the new day rushed through her veins, her smile would grow bigger and bigger. Her smile screamed of life and passion and love. Her smile was life.

She’d spend a few moments of quiet contemplation, thinking about what was old and what was new, about what could be, what had been…

View original 899 more words

Fifty nine hours… and new perks

To celebrate us reaching the campaign goal I’m offering cool new perks, which will allow you to gain a bit more exposure for your blogs/websites. A win-win situation, I might say.

There’s also a Monster perk, which is quite impressive considering how much are being offered. Might want to check it out here.

Once again, thank you all for your continued support, and while there’s still time, why not help me out with a small donation. Any contribution matters. A lot.

You can help me keep this blog alive and finance my future book projects here.

Change

change“We are the prisoners of our own ideals. We have to follow a strict pattern, a set of rules and laws, and play the role society designed for us. We are taught that our choices don’t matter, that at best we are insignificant, and at worst we are invisible, shadowy figures wandering around a desolate landscape filled with rigid concrete boxes and bleak lights shivering in the night. I guess that what I’m really trying to say is that our freedom is limited only by what we believe to be the perception others have about us. ” – Jazz

I’m not an overly ambitious man. I’m not particularly good at most things. I’m rather a pessimist, who happens to have a few moments of idealism. I think I’m too small to change the world around me, and yet this doesn’t stop me from trying.

And I see this kind of thinking all around me. People waiting for someone else to change the world because they feel they’re not strong enough. A lot of people don’t want to make their voices heard, because they fear their voices won’t be enough.

That’s a big, big mistake. Continue reading

We all want to change the world

worldIt’s my honest opinion that we all want to leave our mark on this world. Some of us may not recognize this urge, but we all want to change something, to alter things, to create something that will last longer than us. Even if it is a scar. Yes, there are plenty out there who just want to inflict pain, because that’s the only thing they can do. Or the only thing they think they can do. Continue reading