Is there a painting or sculpture you’re drawn to? What does it say to you? Describe the experience. (Or, if art doesn’t speak to you, tell us why.)
Photographers, artists, poets: show us ART.
Art speaks to me very much. In fact each and every piece of art I have the pleasure to view tells me a different story.
This are my wall paintings. The flowers are drawn on a wall in a kitchen, courtesy of a little accident with hot oil, searing hot pan and shaky hands.
And this is my attempt at culinary, artsy serving of a appetizer I made. Mashed strawberry ice cubes interlayed with minced chocolate.
My presence here remained unnoticed of course. She never knew I invaded her most intimate, private sphere – her home, her room. I cherished the thought. I gloated. Maybe there will come a time when I will tell her this little secret but right know it will belong only to me.
The girl’s bedroom turned out to be nothing out of ordinary. Just a regular room with big bed, fluffy pillows and rather strange taste in music collection. The room was furnished in light colors, mostly white and cream accents. Nothing eccentric. Only one stuffed teddy bear impressed me. I always thought girl’s bedroom was full of sweet dolls, unicorns and other pink crap.
Around the oval mirror there were pictures of her friends and relatives making goofy faces. However, that was not what I was the most interested in. I was here for a purpose. I need to find it.
I know it is somewhere here… Hidden, stashed, obscured. Where is it? Think like a girl? Not a chance but still, where would I hide the artifact?
It can’t be too obvious place, she is not stupid. Underestimating your opponent is a fault of many. I can appreciate brains and beauty. At the end of the day I know I’m far more intelligent. So why can’t I find it?
Suddenly my attention was brought to the enormous rectangular painting hanging above the iron headboard of her bed. The painting was of a landscape, a beautiful view. A small river was weaving its way throughout the canvas. A quaint bridge thrown over the water. And the moon, the silver light of the moon shining over the long branches of willows. The painting seemed eerily familiar. Have I seen this place before? Have I been there? In another time, in another life.
Daily prompt from: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=616896688337656&set=a.599260846767907.1073741825.175634409130555&type=1&relevant_count=1.