Walking through a vast and endless path. Heading to meet. Playing, walking and singing Just coming. In front of me a door or several paths. Music to the ears. Sweet melodies. Song of ninar. Dreams dreaming. Tales listening and telling. Fables and imagination. Imagination and creation. Memories present in a distant past. Fairy, elves, dwarfs, beans. Castles, princesses, stepmother and princes. Walking to the meet Meeting with yours or mine with yours. It doesn’t matter, just a hovel that became a castle. A prince who became a commoner and the eternal princess. In the background the music that plays or the touch of the music that touches us. The door to the far that opens very slowly, and there is the dream.

The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art’s aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things.


By Kindness

Life is like a bunch of roses. Some sparkle like raindrops. Some fade when there's no sun. Some just fade away in time. Some dance in many colors. Some drop with hanging wings. Some make you fall in love. The beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Life you can be sure of, you will not get out ALIVE.(sorry about that)