The Art of Theater
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{Monologue of Nature}
After a long absence, here I´m to present to you a set of images and the first one is this "Monologue of Nature". Every component within this picture talks to himself: the clouds, the reflection the sun, the color tones, the waves and rocks.. just a permanent monologue that give us a theatrical scene and a complete story emphasizing the creativity of the author ..
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{مونولوج الطبيعة}
بعد الغياب الطويل نعود لكم بمجموعة من الصور وأولها مونولوج الطبيعة, فكل مكون داخل هذه الصورة يتحدث مع نفسه من الغيوم وانعكاس الشمس والتدرج اللوني الى امواج البحر وحديثها الدائم مع الصخور كل تكون مشهدا مسرحيا وقصة كاملة تؤكد ابداع مؤلفها
Mostafa Hamad
مصطفى حمد
Camera:Canon IXUS 110 IS
08/05/2012 16:53:00
FOLLOW ME ON
next image of my morning series...
hope you like it..
if not...there are so many nice pictures in explore ;)))
have a nice weekend...
www.youtube.com/watch?v=JctlDkfved0
...
انظر إنه الحزن..
والحزن يستحق الاهتمام.. كالفرح..
اسمع حزنك.. إذ يصرخ أو يبكي أو يستنجد كي يبوح بأسرار الحدث..
حاور حزنك.. إذ يقنعك بالذبول وتقنعه بالتفتح..
عانق حزنك.. إذ يجلس كطفل وحيد في زوايا الشعور المعتم..
سامر حزنك.. قد يتلون الرماد.. وينكشف الأفق..
راقص حزنك.. قد تتسع الزوايا.. ويتسرب العتم من شقوق النوافذ المطلية بغباء الجدار..
فاجئ حزنك.. بحديقة زرقاء.. وأزهار بنفسجية.. سمها بأسماء الحزن.. واجعلها من جمال الليالي الحزينة..
علب حزنك.. بعلبة نظيفة.. بلا أقفال.. ارسم فوقها غيمة وزهرة.. وأطراف سهول..
ثم ضع العلبة فوق رف من رفوف القلب.. واسمح للحزن باللقاء والتنفس كلما اشتاق إليك..
ولعل الفرح يزهر.. ويبني فوق الأفق حديقة.. تراها بين يديك..
....
محمد تيسير الحموي
Look—this is sorrow.
And sorrow deserves attention, just like joy.**
Listen to your sorrow
when it screams, or weeps,
or reaches out, begging to spill
the secrets of what happened.
Speak with your sorrow—
it tries to convince you to wilt,
and you try to teach it how to bloom.
Hold your sorrow close—
it sits there like a lonely child
in the dim corners of your feeling.
Keep your sorrow company—
sometimes the ash shifts color,
and the horizon opens.
Dance with your sorrow—
the room might widen,
and the darkness might slip away
through the cracks of windows
painted over by the wall’s foolishness.
Surprise your sorrow—
with a blue garden,
with violet flowers.
Name them after your grief,
let them belong to the beauty
of your saddest nights.
Box your sorrow—
in a clean box, unlocked.
Draw on it a cloud, a flower,
the edges of open fields.
Then place the box
on a shelf inside your heart,
and let sorrow visit, breathe,
whenever it misses you.
And maybe—just maybe—
joy will bloom,
and build a garden on the horizon,
one you can finally hold
in your own hands.
I hate what I see. I'm angry. Don't listen to London anymore. Refuse to be a mere appendix to 'market forces'. Don't want to constantly reconstruct my identity and my life in line with 'globalisation'. Don't want to be a looser all the time. Who is going to tell me what I want to hear? Tell me who I truly am? Give me certainty, and a purpose! Give me a hammer, and I will kick them! I will believe and follow you, destruction or not. Hate is my capital.
I don't mind getting old. It has been a real privilege so far (and sometimes is a bl... nuisance too). I found so much love in my life and gave back less than I should have. One of the reasons why I can't get used to this face! Reminding me all the time of the limitations and constraints this treacherous self is imposing on whatever could be me. Could I have a different face? I can't get used to the one I have got. I can't, I don't and I won't.
...mais pas une épitaphe .
Photo 2016 : scarf and a stone
Autoportrait
Done today 2025 -10-16
with a smile.
© All rights reserved : Jean-Christophe SOLEILHAVOUP
"The centripetal force on our planet is still fearfully strong, Alyosha. I have a longing for life, and I go on living in spite of logic. Though I may not believe in the order of the universe, yet I love the sticky little leaves as they open in spring. I love the blue sky, I love some people, whom one loves you know sometimes without knowing why. I love some great deeds done by men, though I've long ceased perhaps to have faith in them, yet from old habit one's heart prizes them. Here they have brought the soup for you, eat it, it will do you good. It's first-rate soup, they know how to make it here. I want to travel in Europe, Alyosha, I shall set off from here. And yet I know that I am only going to a graveyard, but it's a most precious graveyard, that's what it is! Precious are the dead that lie there, every stone over them speaks of such burning life in the past, of such passionate faith in their work, their truth, their struggle and their science, that I know I shall fall on the ground and kiss those stones and weep over them; though I'm convinced in my heart that it's long been nothing but a graveyard. And I shall not weep from despair, but simply because I shall be happy in my tears, I shall steep my soul in emotion. I love the sticky leaves in spring, the blue sky — that's all it is. It's not a matter of intellect or logic, it's loving with one's inside, with one's stomach."
- *Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov
Tchinares | Armand Amar
"The music is playing so cheerfully, it's so full of high spirits that one wants to stay alive. Oh God... Oh God... The time will come when we will be gone forever, we will be forgotten, our faces, our voices, and even how many of us there were. But our suffering will be transformed into happiness for those who live after us, peace and contentment will cover the earth, and they will remember and bless with kind words all those who live now. My dearest, dearest sisters, our life is still not finished. We will go on living. The music is playing so happily, so cheerfully, that it seems, in just a little time, we will know why we live, and why there is all this suffering… If only we could know... If only we could know...."
- Anton Chekhov "The Three sisters"
Location: maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Templemore%20City/246/121/31
"Hi folks Bodey here.Today we visited the Palm Spring loop in southern Anza Borrego.It was a beautiful day in the low 70's and quite windy in tha afternoon.As you can see that wonderful December superbloom is still happening and Daddy says it's very unusual.I'll take his word for it. How you like my profile? Imposing,eh?"