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Great Minds have similar thoughts
"i cant really tell, im too poor on fantasy and intelligence to know or feel or see..." -Realism Is A Drag
"poets are dreamers... we daydream at our own peril" -Dr.Garnett
"those who write clearly have readers, those who write obscurely have commentators." -Albert Camus
"There are no facts, only interpretations." -Friedrich Nietzsche
"No man would set a word down on paper if he had the courage to live out what he believed in. Tropic of Cancer." -Henry Miller
"A man who lives for music dies into the same silence as one who lives for the pen or sword." -Floyd Skloot
"A painter paints pictures on canvas. But musicians paint their pictures on silence." -Leopole Stokowski
"Only boring people are bored for long, and bored people are always boring." -Irvine Welsh
"Art is a lie which tells the truth." -Pablo Picasso
"just when you think tomorrow will never come; it's yesterday." -Earl Wilson
"We imagine always when we speak that it is our own ears, our own mind, that are listening." -Marcel Proust
"We act as though comfort and luxury were the chief requirements of life, when all that we need to make us happy is something to be enthusiastic about." -Albert Einstein
"There is only one thing that I know for certain: the value judgements of human beings are undoubtedly guided by their desire for happiness and thus amount to an attempt to back up their illusions with arguments." -Sigmund Freud
"People would rather make the void their purpose than be void of purpose." -Friedrich Nietzsche
"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."." -Oscar Wilde
"this is the worst world of all the worlds was it just a bit more worse it could not even exist!" -Arthur Schopenhauer
"When it is dark, the objects and I will come out of limbo. Nausea" -Jean-Paul Sartre
"We all need mirrors to remind ourselves of who we are – I’m no different." -Leonard Shelby
"If God created us in His image we have certainly returned the compliment." - Voltaire
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    Wednesday, September 28, 2005

    makings of a fresh moogie morn'

    i am a blank canvas
    waiting to be drawn

    you are the light
    that sparkled to guide my mind

    open my eyes to the horizon
    that i may blissfully share

    seeing it all --
    now melt me
    with your smiling stare.

    Illo Friday: Fresh

    note: originally 840 x 840 on bitmap, but have to convert to jpeg size 630 x 630 for the file host. and yes, made using MS Paint.
    Illustration Friday

    update: this is how i made it. see the makings of a moogie morn'

    Thursday, September 22, 2005

    Legend of Woes

    wandering sparks...
    slow wind carried them away
    thru drops and showers
    the sun sadly lain

    was it envy
    of the lucid mirror
    that it had cast away?
    a drenched down
      slipping sledge;
    calling unto the wind
    as small waves reverberate
    to traverse their malignant state

    as they slide to a stagnant era
    lost and forgotten
    thru the journey of folded pages
    covered by the crisp scent
    of misplaced woes
    and their gaunt desire --

        nothing but one
        nothing but sailing as one.

    will they ever be together?
    connected but with a string
       of unceasing dreams
    woven between miles apart...

    forever in the horizon
    an imminent promise
    a silver lining with countless knots
    almost owning the starry sky
       almost reaching
         almost touching
       but remained covered
    thriving with flourished clouds

    and they whisper
    a yearning -
    carried by the floating sea
    centuries apart may come
    they continually ache --

       to be...

         nothing but one
         nothing but sailing as one.

    note: Painting by Odilon Redon(1840-1916). Made a series of six lithographs "To Edgar Poe". His work is imbued with a melancholy passivity, with symbolisms of nocturnal, autumnal, and lunar. His art was always commanded by his dreams, but the thematic content of his work over his last twenty years is more densely mythical, brimming with newfound hope and light which rose quite unexpectedly out of the depths of the artist's personality. And as his words spoke: "My drawings transport us to the ambiguous world of the indeterminate."

    Saturday, September 17, 2005

    Illo Friday: Escape


         And my head is spinning
       Lost my grip
     Lost my

         Away as far as my mind
     As far as my feet
    Couldn't take

         To escape all realities
       To an endless sky
     To boundless

         The eternal pain
       To never stumble
     Never deluded

    note: also escaping from my traditional impromptu poems and illo thru one medium, i posted a poem i made back in October 2004 and a pic of my pc dashed with some personal touches. hope this one qualifies for IF ..oh, and yes, being in cyberspace is indeed my escape. Please click image for a better view.

    Tuesday, September 13, 2005

    Illo Friday: Depth

    Eyes Are Mosaics

                you are the blue angel
                hovering thru the night
                huntress of eternal depth
                as the darkness drops again.

                your touch -
                loom over the horizon
                above night blue breeze
                outlined in soft bright lights

                and i cant live til forever,
                in a pile of thunders we wait
                you weep thru the shadows
                summoning all the fates...

                so i come -
                longing to look thru your eyes
                longing to taste your whispers
                longing to hear your footsteps
                longing to feel your wraith
                longing to be


    Story behind the title: I borrowed the title "Eyes are Mosaics" from a song in the album The Moon and the Melodies by Elizabeth Fraser (voice behind Cocteau Twins), Harold Budd, Robin Guthrie & Simon Raymonde. (I hope they wont mind.. hehe) This album was my background music during the first hours making this illo (yes, repeat mode).

    Story behind the illo: This is strangely fun to do.. and believe it or not, i made this illo for a total of 17 hours, layering (using cut and paste), zooming at 800%, drinking too much green tea and and stepping 3 feet away from the monitor.. 8) using only MS Paint. I already have my copy of Photoshop CS but havent installed it yet, and i do not think i can draw as freely there unlike ms paint. (sometimes i just cant avoid to like doing things the hard way..)

    After finishing the original "painting" i was amazed at how the image appear to convey a different meaning everytime i flip and combine it in different angles. The original bitmap image is 550 x 690 pixels with 96dpi. But i decided to post the multi-images that i devided in two parts. Hope you'd all enjoy staring.. as i did, making. Pls click the images for better view.

    This is my favorite illo i made so far. Thanks IF for picking the topic "Depth".

    And for the story behind the poem - you be the judge.


    Wednesday, September 07, 2005

    Pass into Silence

    chasing echoes in a late afternoon
    big and silent waves of voices
    dare not i come follow --

    i know you are there
      but i can't see you
    i know you are there
      and i can feel you

    stepping crisp of dried up leaves
    ashes came blowing
    in the stillness of the wind

    and i stare to a swirling pile
    sucking towards the heavens
    and into the sky

    i feel violated with the unknown
    weaving into sleep
    the dead staring trees

    shake the ground dust off my sleeves
    uncovering the nakedness
    of your dying tears

    weeping smiles now wrap me
    as your shadow finally pass by
    with the blowing breeze that kept me warm --

    i know you are there
      tho i cant see you
    i know you are there
      coz -
         i can feel you...

    note: Je hoeft niks meer te zeggen, de waarheid spreekt al uit ons oogcontact...
    What a Moogie *.* Day...

    Sunday, September 04, 2005

    Illo Friday: Roots


    step into the unyielding world
    the starting point
    the first void
    as your ceptar lights
    the route gone dark
    the pastel of pitch-black

    a doorway to a new dimension
    slip into oblivion or discreet pleasure
    as you ponder -
    would you enter,
    or would you turn back?

    tantalized by your marveled stare
    i stood a distance
    glancing your shadow navigate
    as your steps turn into echoes
    that slowly died away

    half burried
    on a plot of stones and leaves
    without dismay without fear,
    i waited and remained
    for your shadow to reappear

    im on the verge of passin out
    no cure for these ragged lips
    and sightless eyes.
    the root of it all -
    the envy of the deities
    of your brilliance that had shed
    out the gloom and tainted

    my poor vision in near darkness
    captured me once again
    as i move unsteadily
    holding unto sorrow that sees
    no discernment
    nor untarnished questions

    that i may step away into the shade,
    my dear tempest
      my nympth
    i'll wait for you...

    damned me cursed to forever be haunting
    beneath the dark-leaved unknown tree.

    note: this is my week's entry for
    please click on the image for a better view.

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