A revised schedule is to business what a new season is to an athlete or a new canvas to an artist.
quote by Norman Ralph Augustine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Empty Canvas
the canvas is juxtaposition
images colour movement time
time shifts in thought shifts
empty mind space canvas
is whatever artist declares
canvas is painted to be
empty canvas is whatever
canvas is painted to be
endless pigment possibilities
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When you give an artist a canvas, you shouldn't tell him exactly how much paint to put on it, or exactly how sharp the images should be. You should let the artist get going.
quote by Reed Hundt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whatever an artist's personal feelings are, as soon as an artist fills a certain area on the canvas or circumscribes it, he becomes historical. He acts from or upon other artists.
quote by Willem de Kooning
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Janine
JANINE
Joy's Janine, sovereign Queen,
is sitting unwittingly, caught between
time and timelessness, sans spleen.
Softness shines from silent scene
such as, had I true artist been,
from canvas onto online screen,
all might glimpse peerlessness serene.
She'd e'en cause pristine saints to dream
on paragon, fair figurine,
on team-theme evergreen.
13 April 1975 revised 23 April 2010
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Janine
E’en
Janine
sov’reign Queen,
in beige, brown, green
in silence is seen
sitting. Such a soft scene
as, had I an artist been,
from palette to fair picturene
I would, I ween, cause e’en the saints to dream.
13 April 1975
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As An Artist
As an artist,
I carefully paint
a picture on my
canvas
with each stroke
I wipe away a tear
causing a smile to
reappear
As an artist
I endow your face
with my brush
making it more
perfect as I go
until at last the
image of my love
I see.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Canvas
Oh how she loves her canvas,
The stories that it tells.
Oh how she loves to paint her thoughts,
And etch a perfect spell.
Oh how she loves her canvas,
The memories that it holds.
Oh how she loves to trace the lines,
And tell if new or old.
Oh how she loves her canvas,
Her stability in an unstable world.
Oh how she loves to fret away,
At all of her unfurled.
Oh how she loves her canvas,
A standstill of art and truth.
Oh how she loves the feel of it,
To reminisce her youth.
Oh how she loves her canvas,
A long work of her life.
Oh how she loves the twisted colors,
Splashes of red upon white.
Oh how she loves her canvas,
She crafts each inch with care.
She hides her canvas well away,
Though she often earns a stare.
Do not tell of her canvas,
Keep the secret- she insists.
But perhaps some time take a second glance,
For her canvas is her wrist.
poem by Dayna Mortimore
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A Perfect Painting
Perfect painting
An azure, sinless sky
a whisper of white clouds
and a yellow sun.
The canvas was big
but the painter got bored
walked home.
It rained in the night
canvas, dark and ominous
the artist was contented.
Painting, just the way
it was intended,
but he didn´t bother to sign it.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The athlete of today is not an athlete alone. He's the center of a team - doctors, scientists, coaches, agents and so on.
quote by Emil Zatopek
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Artist
He stands at no easel, he mixes no paint,
He colours no canvas to gladden the eye,
Yet the picture he makes will not fade or grow faint
Till our love of the chase shall desert us and die.
He's an artist of parts
Who appeals to the hearts
That can thrill to good hunting and hounds in full cry.
By his seat in the saddle, his touch on the reins,
His skill and his mastery, who can gainsay
That here is an artist in all that pertains
To the horse and his handling - a real R.A. ?
An artist 'twould irk
Not to cut out the work
When the hats are crammed down and a fox is away.
You will find him no centre of salon or crush,
No letters attached to his name may he sign,
But there's no one so eager to handle the Brush
And there's none so consistently found on the Line.
If an artist you ask,
Here's the man for the task,
Making pictures where keenness and courage combine.
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am an artist. The track is my canvas, and the car is my brush.
quote by Graham Hill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The artist discards all theories, both his own and those of others. He forgets everything when he is in front of his canvas.
quote by Georges Rouault
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When is a Painting Finished?
I paint.
On my easel
pictures in oil and acrylic grow
like stalagmites in limestone caves.
I think that painting is a magical act
that transforms invisible thoughts
and feelings into visible colors
and forms.
But I never can tell
when is the work finished.
After all it is always possible
to change a line, a hue, or a color
or even the whole composition.
Painters have different opinions
about this.
Some say that when the artist
successfully planted
all the details onto the canvas
the image expresses itself
as a severed autonomous entity,
which frees the painter from
the task of continuing to paint.
From then on the painting gains
an independent inner life of its own.
However, abandoning a work of art
involves a moral decision
ripened by the stiffening tension
between skill, creativity and integrity.
At what point does the polished image
meet the artist’s expectations?
And then, even if it does,
no single image can express
all that an artist wants to show,
and consequently his muses
compel him to carry on with his work
and create more paintings.
Hence the oeuvre of the artist
evolves as a set of different images
of the same single thrust and grind.
Many years ago I was wandering
through the countryside
of southern France in Provence.
Once I stopped to look at the road
where the village met the meadow.
A sturdy artist stood there
in front of his easel
painting the landscape
with skilful brushstrokes
on a well-stretched canvas.
I stared for a while
at the burgeoning picture
and then asked him:
“How do you know
when is the composition complete? ”
He gave me a piercing glance.
“Well”, he said,
“if you take a hammer
and hit me on the head
I know that the painting is finished.”
poem by Paul Hartal
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Nowhere At All
Hey, if you're moving too fast
Don't you want this thing last
But if you start moving slow
Hey, pretty mama, you just will have to go
Because
It's nobody's business but my own
It's nobody's business but my own
No, no, no, no, ... no
No, no, no, no, ... no
But if you start acting mean
Then I'll have to mess up the scene
But if you start treating me nice
Hey now baby, I'm gonna have to raise your price
Because it's nobody's business but my own
No, no, no, no, ... no
No, no, no, no, ... no
Nobody's business, nobody's business
Come on now
It ain't nobody's business, nobody business
No, no, no no, nobody's business, no, no, ...
It ain't nobody's business, yeah, but my own
nobody's business, but my own, no, no, no, ...
nobody's business ...
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But I like to think an athlete is an athlete.
quote by Oscar Robertson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I believe that we always die on schedule. Time is counted differently for each of us, but we die on schedule...
quote by Maurice Bejart
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The artist always knows how to cultivate the state of the human soul on his canvas, he is the one who always paints the image of the inner reality.
quote by Camelia Oprița (3 March 2011)
Submitted by Alexander
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If we carry on filling up the calendar, we keep on pushing the athlete, we shorten the athletes longevity. The risk is to shorten a career that could have lasted 10 years because the athlete is burnt out.
quote by Alberto Juantorena
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The key is not to prioritize what's on your schedule, but to schedule your priorities.
quote by Stephen Covey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paintings by fliss III My Friend The Artist.
Am I to recover
A good friend I discover
An artist to take note
Of what I'm carrying about.
She paints a moment
A scene so poignant
Something to treasure
A coming together
Her art now loud
It speaks her proud
It calls for attention
Her abstract sensation
Two I have seen
One of orange and green
A canvas so clean
it's story serene.
Her pen and ink
Look again don't blink
Sunflower in bloom
No paintings of gloom.
Her eyes shine bright
Laughter so light
Looking for direction
Head turned, distraction.
Now I smile, and with reason
A brand new Season
Spring is here
Freshness to the air
Two minds that kiss
My friend, fliss!
poem by Robert Green
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The reason why I have lost weight is that I looked at the international schedule and thought that I wanted to play for another two years. It is a very hectic schedule and if I want to get through that then I have to be in the best shape that I can.
quote by Shane Warne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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