Art arises when the secret vision of the artist and the manefestation of nature agree to find new shapes.
quote by Kahlil Gibran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Fly
It's no secret that the stars are falling from the sky
It's no secret that our world is in darkness tonight
They say the sun is sometimes eclipsed by a moon}
Y' know I don't see you when she walks in the room
It's no secret that a friend is someone who lets you help
It's no secret that a liar won't believe anyone else
They say a secret is something you tell another person
So I'm telling you... child
Low Voice:
A man will beg
A man will craw
On the sheer face of love
Like a fly on a wall
It's no secret at all
It's no secret that a conscience can sometimes be a pest
It's no secret ambition bites the nails of success
Every artist is a cannibal
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet 4
the self to brink of paradise may rise
but dim that vision remains, distant
until self surrenders and self dies.
then vision brightens in an instant!
veil torn, new eyes new vision behold;
new ears new communications hear.
the new Man arises from man of old
to meet vision as vision draws near.
a new earth forms from old earth;
old earth's transfigured by new.
veil rent in second birth
new self becomes selves two!
two selves dwell in one new self;
the heavenly Self and self of earth.
poem by Doug Bentley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Watching For Shapes
Written by ricky & marty wilde
Influences now are things that are all around me
Changing shape as they move around in an open mind
Coloured in by the images I find
Im just watching for shapes that grow
Im just watching for shapes that grow
(watching for shapes that grow)
Like electric sparks they danced by an open mirror
Closing doors never looking round but its not goodbye
Theyll be there till Im taken out I know
Im just watching for shapes that grow
Im just watching for shapes that grow
(watching for shapes that grow)
In my mind theres a space thats full of painted pictures
Things I did that I went through, but cant recall
Now and then theres a flash of the unknown
Im just watching for shapes that grow
Im just watching for shapes that grow
(watching for shapes that grow)
(watching for shapes that grow)
(watching for shapes that grow)
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Thirteen Lines
A brain peered through stoic eyes;
Yet all it saw was rendered into
Flawed interpretation –
No honoured contemplation of a
Gluon, muon, quark of any flavour;
Nor a vision or conception of its world
Within a universe anthropic in its physical laws,
Inside a boundless multiverse.
All it gleaned and modelled
Bore parochialism well beyond belief! –
Delusional perhaps.
Survival only matters here on planet Earth –
Evolution saw to that.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
na ture nature nature nature
nature nature nature nature
nature nature nature nature
nature nature nature nature
nature nature nature nature
nature nature nature nature
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Creation is dominated by three absolutely different factors: First, nature, which works upon us by its laws; second, the artist, who creates a spiritual contact with nature and his materials; third, the medium of expression through which the artist translates his inner world.
quote by Hans Hofmann
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Secret In Suspension
Always away to india to find themselves,
What is it they wish to find?
The buddha nature of the Ganjes flowing?
The secret of a perfect mind.
I know in myself that the books on my shelf
About goblins and elfs and spirits unkind
Atune to my soul, in a bottomless hole
Solving the secret of a perfect mind.
Free of blind suspicision
Free of shackles binding
The secret in suspension
Is the secret you are finding.
poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Earth's Secret
Not solitarily in fields we find
Earth's secret open, though one page is there;
Her plainest, such as children spell, and share
With bird and beast; raised letters for the blind.
Not where the troubled passions toss the mind,
In turbid cities, can the key be bare.
It hangs for those who hither thither fare,
Close interthreading nature with our kind.
They, hearing History speak, of what men were,
And have become, are wise. The gain is great
In vision and solidity; it lives.
Yet at a thought of life apart from her,
Solidity and vision lose their state,
For Earth, that gives the milk, the spirit gives.
poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Value Fever Pitch: An Artist’s Time
Bhoman F Jamhari said
'I am an artist - This does not
mean I will work for free.
I have bills just like you.
Thank you for understanding.'
Polite and to the problematic point.
Anyone who thinks believes
an artist’s time is worthless,
is definitely a person an artist
should avoid; such individuals
cannot comprehend
or remotely understand
aesthetic value of art.
Art takes time to produce.
Vision and artistic skill takes
even longer to realize to attain
expanding horizons. Time costs.
Artists of differing genre value
appreciate each other and art
which suits their temperament.
To create art
is the life blood
of an artist.
The air we breathe
is the home of art.
Creativity is our fevered mind songs
we sing in a legacy of image visions.
What kind of a con artist wants
to steal bread from an artist’s mouth;
therefore limiting the quality quantity
of future works of art, to be produced
by that artist. Answer an enemy of art.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I see little of more importance to the future of our country and of civilization than full recognition of the place of the artist. If art is to nourish the roots of our culture, society must set the artist free to follow his vision wherever it takes him.
quote by Pauline Kael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My Secret Spot in Delray Beach
To a few I showed my secret Spot,
To many I reveal it is on The Beach,
In Delray, still without my help,
none may find, because is called mine,
My hidden Delray Beach Spot
Its open, its free, its guarded and protected
All can find, all can see, but beyond the vision,
belongs to me, My Secret Loved Spot,
On the Beach, in Delray...
A friend I call to Show my Paradise,
and share the secret rooted
inside my heart, with all my soul,
My loved Delray Beach
The 'All-America' City,
Blessed, and so dear to me!
poem by Florida Angel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
With Methods To Replace Old Concepts
As a performing artist,
One takes artistic risks.
That's the nature of the field.
And creativity can not be restricted.
Those who believe,
There should be censorship...
Only limit their own experiences,
Not those who are chosen and born to do this.
If nature was confined,
To a definition in one's mind.
There would be no growth at all.
And the Earth would not be of God's design.
Constantly evolving in new directions to find...
The unknown to discover fresh expressions,
With methods to replace old concepts.
As a performing artist,
One takes artistic risks.
That's the nature of the field.
And creativity can not be restricted.
Those who believe,
There should be censorship...
Only limit their own experiences,
Not those who are chosen and born to do this.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It ought to be illegal for an artist to marry. If the artist must marry let him find someone more interested in art, or his art, or the artist part of him, than in him. After which let them take tea together three times a week.
quote by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The seeing of things as they really are — the seeing of a proportion veiled from other eyes (together with the power of expression), is what makes a man an artist. What makes him a great artist is a high fervour of spirit, which produces a superlative, instead of a comparative, clarity of vision.
quote by John Galsworthy
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Life, Man, Wife
We all have but one Life,
Man should only have one wife,
Unless should one wife dies,
Find love with another, guys.
Your life is what you make of it,
You create, you make, a shape for it.
Some are bigger, Some are smaller,
Some are longer, Some are wider.
Some succeed, their shapes are higher.
Some who fail, what's their burning desire?
Life shapes can be a rainbow,
No such thing as a sunbow?
Some are brighter, some are duller,
Some sadly, do not have any color.
Be an artist, Be a painter,
Every brush stroke, tells your story,
Be it darker, Be it lighter,
The air you breathe is for free,
Your life's work, Your History,
An open book for all to see.
Celebrate your daily life,
We only have but one life,
Be so loving to your wife,
Be at home by half past five.
Mrs. Sibley
The secret of the stars, -- gravitation.
The secret of the earth, -- layers of rock.
The secret of the soil, -- to receive seed.
The secret of the seed, -- the germ.
The secret of man, -- the sower.
The secret of woman, -- the soil.
My secret: Under a mound that you shall never find.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In thy nature
In thy nature is beauty
in thy nature is earth
in thy nature i find my worth
in thy nature is peace
in thy nature i find myself
in thy nature every lasting greens
in thy nature there is more to be seen
in thy nature a beauty untold
in thy nature everything is worth more than gold
poem by Stephanie Mcgrath
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Nature Paints
Nature Paints
Nature paints the sky in blue,
Then adds the fluffy spots of white
Which sometimes hide the fuel
Of fiery sphere - light
A relief that gives a gracious smile
Nature paints the high mountains green
An emerald of an incline climb
Extending stairway to heavenly dreams,
The peak is in a target's reach
Our nature paints the dark stained soil
A symbol for our hard day's toil
What in its core does treasure hides?
Seek the rainbow you will find
All colors that our artist binds
Copyright © 2012
poem by Godfrey Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Just Leave Me With Nature
A stranger to any success or renown
And if I should die far south of old Millstreet Town
It will not matter to me then where my bones will lay
Just leave me with Nature and I will be okay
Does not matter if they bury me or to ashes me they burn
From Nature I came and to her I'll return
In immortal Mother Nature so much to admire
And of singing her praises could one ever tire,
The wonders of Nature is an amazing thing
And the praises of Nature with joy we should sing
We are part of Nature it does seem to me
Though many with my thinking may not agree
To your unseen God you may kneel for to pray
But in Mother Nature's bosom your remains will lay.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Shapes That Go Together
When you were wrapped in tangles
I was free
And when you were undecided
I believed
It's alright, tonight
On a deep blue mountain high
The shapes that go together
You and I
When you were filled with longing
I belonged
When you were weak from trying
I was strong
But it's alright, tonight
On a deep blue mountain high
The shapes that go together
You and I
The shapes that go together
You and I
Childhood winters
Come to me
Whisper softly
So tenderly
I know, I walked 25 miles to hold you
Just to find you'd moved away
When you were wrapped in tangles
I was free
And when you were almost blinded
I could see
But it's alright, tonight
On a deep blue mountain high
The shapes that go together
You and I
The shapes that go together
You and I
You and I (The shapes that go together)
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Colorful Visions
There's a vision in my head
that surfaces while in bed.
And then when I awaken
the vision's gone.
It's beautiful to see
and when it comes to me
I feel as if it's here
but it moves on.
The vision's always fading
with colors bright, then shading
until I cannot see them
for it's dawn.
I anticipate the vision
and make a bold decision
to stay asleep
and trap this phenomenon.
But soon my eyes are open
and I find myself just hopin'
but once again my vision's
not there anymore.
Kaleidoscoping colors
where have you gone
every time I have that morning yawn?
It arouses me, undrowses me
and makes me sad to find
that I left it all behind
in that sleepy place for dreams.
And so it is it seems
wakefulness surrounds me
and I am left forlorn.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!