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Art isn't only a painting. Art is anything that's creative, passionate, and personal. And great art resonates with the viewer, not only with the creator.
What makes someone an artist? I don't think is has anything to do with a paintbrush. There are painters who follow the numbers, or paint billboards, or work in a small village in China, painting reproductions. These folks, while swell people, aren't artists. On the other hand, Charlie Chaplin was an artist, beyond a doubt. So is Jonathan Ive, who designed the iPod. You can be an artists who works with oil paints or marble, sure. But there are artists who work with numbers, business models, and customer conversations. Art is about intent and communication, not substances.
An artists is someone who uses bravery, insight, creativity, and boldness to challenge the status quo. And an artists takes it personally.
That's why Bob Dylan is an artist, but an anonymous corporate hack who dreams up Pop 40 hits on the other side of the glass is merely a marketer. That's why Tony Hsieh, founder of Zappos, is an artists, while a boiler room of telemarketers is simply a scam.
Tom Peters, corporate gadfly and writer, is an artists, even though his readers are businesspeople. He's an artists because he takes a stand, he takes the work personally, and he doesn't care if someone disagrees. His art is part of him, and he feels compelled to share it with you because it's important, not because he expects you to pay him for it.
Art is a personal gift that changes the recipient. The medium doesn't matter. The intent does.
Art is a personal act of courage, something one human does that creates change in another.
Tag: art passion work change courage creativity meaning artists
-A veces la diversión resulta demasiado cara-comentó
Claudia CelisThe specific character of despair is precisely this: it is unaware of being despair.
Søren KierkegaardDuh, why didn't you just kill her?" Lisa asked, annoyed. "Two more seconds and it would have been justifiable vampicide."
"Lis, for all we know, she volunteers weekends at the soup kitchen.
Harshness vanished. A sudden softness has replaced the meadows' wintry grey. Little rivulets of water changed their singing accents. Tendernesses, hesitantly, reach toward the earth from space, and country lanes are showing these unexpected subtle risings that find expression in the empty trees.
Rainer Maria Rilkeoh, sixty years, give or take."
"Sixty years." There i go, Clara the parrot. I belong on a pirate's shoulder.
Tag: hallowed unearthly clara-gardner
The blacksmith's boy went out with a rifle
and a black dog running behind.
Cobwebs snatched at his feet,
rivers hindered him,
thorn branches caught at his eyes to make him blind
and the sky turned into an unlucky opal,
but he didn't mind.
I can break branches, I can swim rivers, I can stare out
any spider I meet,
said he to his dog and his rifle.
The blacksmith's boy went over the paddocks
with his old black hat on his head.
Mountains jumped in his way,
rocks rolled down on him,
and the old crow cried, You'll soon be dead.
And the rain came down like mattocks.
But he only said,
I can climb mountains, I can dodge rocks, I can shoot an old crow any day,
and he went on over the paddocks.
When he came to the end of the day, the sun began falling,
Up came the night ready to swallow him,
like the barrel of a gun,
like an old black hat,
like a black dog hungry to follow him.
Then the pigeon, the magpie and the dove began wailing
and the grass lay down to pillow him.
His rifle broke, his hat blew away and his dog was gone and the sun was falling.
But in front of the night, the rainbow stood on the mountain,
just as his heart foretold.
He ran like a hare,
he climbed like a fox;
he caught it in his hands, the colours and the cold -
like a bar of ice, like the column of a fountain,
like a ring of gold.
The pigeon, the magpie and the dove flew up to stare,
and the grass stood up again on the mountain.
The blacksmith's boy hung the rainbow on his shoulder
instead of his broken gun.
Lizards ran out to see, snakes made way for him,
and the rainbow shone as brightly as the sun.
All the world said, Nobody is braver, nobody is bolder,
nobody else has done
anything equal to it. He went home as easy as could be
with the swinging rainbow on his shoulder.
Your Majesty—
Tugging my ear. Whenever.
Declan and Regin:
"Kiss you?" As he waited for the revulsion to seize him, he found himself wondering how she would react. Would she moan into his mouth?
"It will help you remember me. Kiss me. Come on, you know you want to so bad. You want me so bad."
"Never." Bloody get off her, get away from her. But he needed to be above her like this, to master her, overpower her.
"Never? That boner of yours just called you a lair.
Tag: paranormal-romance immortals-after-dark lore valkyrie berserker dreams-of-a-dark-warrior kresley-cole declan-chase regin-the-radient
Няма по-мъртва точка от спряно време. Съзнанието не може да приеме това и се съпротивлява с всички сили. Да живееш, значи да усещаш как бързо, как задъхано тече времето през тебе, как излита с горещото ти ускорено дишане, как ручи с потта през порите на кожата ти, как се оттича с парливите тръпки на умората вечер, когато се прибираш след напрегнат работен ден, как бие с учестения ти пулс. Застой. Значи преставаш да живееш.
Blaga DimitrovaNhưng là vì tuổi thơ của một dân tộc phải kháng chiến bảo vệ Tổ Quốc, nên nó không là những chùm me hay góc phố có giàn hoa Tigôn mà học trò thường nhớ. Nó trở thành cuốn lưu bút hào hùng và đau thương của dân tộc, với những số phận con người hi sinh, chiến đấu dưới nhiều dáng vẻ.
Nguyễn Thị Ngọc HảiWhen the white man turns tyrant it is his own freedom that he destroys.He becomes a sort of hollow,posing dummy,the conventional figure of a sahib.For it is the condition of his rule that he shall spend his life in trying to impress the "natives",and so in every crisis he has got to do what the "natives" expect of him.He wears a mask and his face grows to fit it.
George OrwellTag: humanity-and-society
الشعب يصير فقيراً ومسترقاً عندما يسرقون لغته التي ورثها عن الآباء عندئذ يضيع الى الابد
Michelangelo JacobucciReal poetry is like a sail at the open sea.
Eva SonenbergTradisi Islam-Arab kita masih sangat membutuhkan kerja keras intelektual yang sistematis lewat kajian cemerlang sehingga dapat menyajikan nilai-nilai budaya Arab orisinal yang bersih dari berbagai kesesatan pemikiran dan penyimpangan akidah kepada generasi saat ini. Sudah barang tentu upaya pengkajian ini harus diawali dengan penyelarasan antara segi-segi maknawi pada tradisi tersebut dengan panduannya yang berasal dari kalangan intelektual terkemuka sehingga tidak lagi terjadi apa yang sering kita dengar dan sering kita lihat tentang eksploitasi tradisi yang berakhir pada kesia-siaan dan suatu saat hanya menjadi beban kekecewaan.
Yusri Abdul Ghani AbdullahTag: sejarah intelektual tradisi-ilmu
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