Day 1914, different.

I sometimes wonder

what would happen

if everything we know

had suddenly

a different color


green sky

blue milk

red paper


would that

bring us any closer

Day 1910, slider.

Art is often used to tell a story about life, our lives, lives around us and the planet we live on. What art is, is hard to define but I like to think of art as that activity or product that is depicting life as it is not. In abstract art that is pretty obvious but a picture or painting of nature or a great poem or song can often strife to mimic, or rhapsodize about real life, but it will never comes close… enough. Every decision and detail has a purpose when you make a picture or write a song, there is a process going on, often unintended. There is no camera that can duplicate reality and the words we use to describe our world have changing meanings and interpretations, reality can only be approached.

The picture I used today is not necessary art but you can clearly see that it is nature with some dramatic clouds. That it is a black and white picture makes it immediately not a candidate for most accurate picture showing what I see from my garden, but the clouds are over dramatic without a doubt. In real life the sky was bright and I could see some clouds but there was no storm coming. But I like the stormy clouds in my picture, I created them by sliding some virtual sliders on my computer, easy. The strange thing is that I have seen clouds like that in the past, all dark and foreboding, at least I think I did. It is hard to recall what I saw in the past, I only have a vague image, like the once you see in your peripheral vision. Now I think of it, are there clouds that are almost black, or are they just dark grey in reality? I doubt myself now, maybe my memory is like art and used a mood slider on me, maybe it also depicts life as it is not.

What does art mean to you?

Ps. for the people that are interested, the “mood” slider in Lightroom is for me the dehaze one most of the time… I haven’t found a similar one inside me though…


Day 1909, weed.

It’s strange

we let things grow in our garden

even things we don’t want


we have off course our rituals

to get what we don’t want out of sight

we pull it out, take poison or cut deep

knowing all along that some seeds

are still buried

deep within

the ground

Day 1908, uninitiated.

It looks like a mess

when you look down on it


but I who created it

sees what it all is

and where it came from


only the uninitiated

perceives disorder

Day 1907, together.

 It seems that we all

work on our own fields


and though we plant

plow and mow at different times


it’s when you look up

to rest


that you can admire all the lines

colors and shades

working together

Day 1906, colorful dress.

I turned around

when the rain started falling


when I was turned

I saw you

an expected surprise


your colorful dress

made no mistake

in telling me

what you wanted


and I will give you this summer

so you can grow


what I need

Day 1901, curious.

I’ve already played my part

in last year’s summer dance


I gave my seeds

to the passing wind

and showed the beauty

that once was


I let all of that go

when this dance was over

though I’m still here


Day 1899, morning.

I felt this morning

the dark forest

chased by fear




the massive  

ancient oak’s

stay behind

and I step over

the last roots


the sun welcomes me

and I see that grass

is green

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