This little girl is so beautiful… I hope my daughter radiates God’s grace in her life like this little girl.
Color is an expression of spirit. A unique mixture of texture perceived differently by all yet shared on a common platform of sight. Everyone perceives the essence of color differently yet through the common bond of the act of perceiving we can share life. Color is a bond unique to our condition; all are individuals and see differently yet it is on the basis of one plane that we can communicate. Color speaks to the soul not through a code confined by distinct rigid properties, but as a soft urging of the soul. Often the eyes of the spirit are disregarded by logic, yet it is that very ability, unique to everyone, that can be used to bond even the most extreme of opposites. Eyes are used to see the physical, but that is not where our perception was meant to stop. Everything in the physical is a hint into the spiritual, an invitation to explore and discover a meaning greater than the mere observation of a color. It is on that level of exploration that all the discrepancies and beautiful shifting perspectives of the mind can become united in its purpose; connection, intimacy, and a revelation of a divine purpose. So lets see what happens when we purposely expand our horizon, give our spirit room to thrive, and dive into the world of color.
I have a high value for creativity, and I have recently developed a love of art. I am not only interested in the famous paintings of renaissance artists but I am particularly keen on the work of amazing captivators. Thats ultimately what art is, the pursuit of expressing a thought idea or image in a way that expresses beauty and draws in and captivates the common observer. Art isn’t just the ability to apply a medium to a piece of paper or a canvas in a certain style it is the ability to, produce, express, or portray a realm, according to aesthetic principles, of what is beautiful, appealing, or of more than ordinary significance. Art is the science of significance. It is the ability to recognize and display or draw attention to significance. Art is made infinitely more meaningful if the artist is revealing a believe an ideal or a fascinating spectacle. This art piece really captured my imagination because it makes me feel as if I am sitting on a bench right after a thunderstorm at night with a cool breeze observing the lights. Lights are something we take for granted often their beauty is mistaken for functionality. There is something profoundly beautiful and captivating about the ingenuity of man to make light, and taking time to observe the little things is something I truly value.
In a world of ideas, constantly shifting,
is there such a thing as truth persisting.
The desire to search, and the right to disagree
all taken away under the banner of equality.
When right is wrong, and wrong is right
and acceptance is taught as a doctrine of its wrong to fight.
When in reality no perceivable foundation exists,
and an epidemic of changing truth persists.
How can there be an idea of relativistic morality
if the root of the concept is moral depravity.
The idea that there cannot be ultimate truth,
just a mixture of ideas being pumped into the youth.
Not one of them allowed to be labeled as wrong,
all can believe different and yet are still part of the same throng.
Ideas fail to reach their full significance,
foundational ideas become platforms of dissidence.
I believe in the concept of truth,
the existence of an unshakable reality of which we are in a constant search of proof.
An idea incorruptible, by logic or deception
A way of thinking that defies our logical perception.
If truth was decided by mans observation,
than the basis of thought would undergo a violent cessation.
Truth exists as a foundation never changing,
The only variable is our perception ideas twisting and rearranging.
Fact and truth often bare no separation,
One is used to describe the other a divine revelation.
If we can separate the two we will come to realize
That truth supersedes fact and facts can be used to lie.
Truth hidden by God for Kings to discover,
a deep desire by God’s Love we uncover.
A Misconceived idea we think we understand,
a path, a journey, a revolutionary word we think we command.
More than a need for my gratification.
More than an act to validate my immediate station.
Born with a compacity to love like a child,
often twisted to mean a feeling of ecstasy in an atmosphere of wild.
The truth of the deception lies not in introspection,
but an acceptance that love is based on a selfless connection.
A need revealed deep in the center of being,
filled first by God not by a feverish moment of misconceiving.
Not on the misunderstanding that love is based on a physical connection.
Not on the thought that love equates to a violent display of affection.
No, love at its root, at the base, in its center,
is not a feeling is not an emotional state of euphoric pleasure.
Action based on love not love on action,
Love is not based on whether or not you receive satisfaction
No thats the deception truth irrevocably twisted,
Love is the ability to give grace forgive and together be uplifted.
Nature reveals the things of the divine in a way man cannot maintain. To those who listen secrets are whispered, mysteries are explained, and the spiritual essence of the divine is revealed. The essence of nature is precluded by the illusion of control. If a man sets his being against the chaotic melody of the created he will be forced to bend, as the directionless does not have a stop to its direction. But if a man aligns himself with the violence, and relinquishes control to the beauty, he will find a stillness and an understanding not forged by the constrains of logic but by an unhindered union with the creator.
Suspended; held in balance between a weightless abyss and a great expanse of colored nothingness. I am overwhelmed. Lying prostrate caught in a battle as old as time, two cataclysmic forces endlessly weighing against each other, a fine line of neutrality drawn between them, none the victor. They advance at a measured pace neither making a rushed offensive, neither ceasing their endless barrage, both pressing on, playing the deadly game of time, moving through that gateway as one.
Many have tried to describe it using eloquent words and scientific terms, but in the face of such a forceful balancing such words fail to capture its depth. In the midst of such power and conflict a thin band of peace and stillness thrives, an absence of all conflict, in which I find myself. Floating on my back; peacefully, blissfully at rest, all semblance of control released to the invisible chaos around me. Forces so immense the mind cannot hope to attain control; the only road forward surrender. In such a moment the foundations of heaven touch down to earth, the dusty unused conduits of pure emotion open, and a pathway to the heavens is established. The walls around my heart so meticulously erected are swept aside by the pure force of the void, and an understanding swept my body. Peace is not an amiable feeling conjured up by a release of pent up emotion, but the force that releases the emotions itself. Peace is a violent action, the forcible removal of all except a void of pleasant nothingness, not a place of unknowing, but a place to know and to fully be know. I lay in that state driven there by the magnificence of nature, and held there by the thirst of my soul. A need for rest, the only hope at action enjoyment.
A fun, and sometimes deep cacophony of thoughts and unusual perspectives.
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photo essays by ben reynolds
Photography from south-east Asia by Jon Sanwell