|A portrait of my best friend on dA Dmitry as a little boy.|
One of the things about me is that when I meet a person I always try to picture them as they were as children.
From the 1st time I encountered Dmitry's images I was memorized by them. He has such a unique mind and artistic abilities that go beyond perfection ( not a smudge to be seen) but more then that it was his subject matter that captured my attention. It was like he was a shaman in a previous life.
As a person, he is so insightful & positive, whether it be photography, drawing or painting, he encourages me from afar. He treats me like an equal even though his art is far superior to mine.
I am aware the hands are not right, I keep studying hands & they continue to elude me. LOL
|Dmitry's work is like seeing the mental images of a Shaman who is channeling the ancestors & aliens from outer space all at once. His depictions, shows us forgotten memories, future predictions, & ancient stories. His artwork is unique in so many levels.|
|It's so beautiful it leaves you speechless.|
These are polar opposites of each other. One makes you happy to be alive, the world is bright, full of color & life. It makes you want to soar with the clouds. It makes you feel like there are only good things waiting for you.
The other is a study of depression. The world has been bleached grey, everything is devoid of color, his pain is felt by all the living things around him. They weep for him and with him. His posture makes your want to hold him in your arms, even though every touch brings them (a person with depression) pain.
What I love about this photo is that he took a normal everything common object that we walk over and overlook on a daily basis and he showed us the ethereal beauty of it. It makes me wonder what else this picture is trying to tell us & will we be able to understand it in time.
Everyone knows what a tree looks like, yet not everyone can paint one. He painted what was there PLUS endless possibilities of things that could have been or might have been visible if we had the ability to see beyond our human capabilities: like motes of light on the wings of birds or butterflies or scent of perfume carried on the motion of the wind currents. It a dream-like depiction.
She captured a memory of my childhood. These "blue" roses were my mother's pride & joy. In general I am not a lover of roses, as as a child it was my job to keep them (over a hundred rose bushes) de-headed so they could produce more flowers & those things were evil their nasty thorns scratched & poked my delicate skin & make me bleed. Those burning wounds hurt for days & in my case a lifetime.
"In this age of everyone trying to be the same how does one standout above the crowd?" This army of birds look the same yet there are subtle differences; some have enhanced their chest with brightly colored feathers, others stand tilted towards different angles (the clowns of the group LOL). All await in eagerness for what comes next.... will it be food, instructions, wisdom? Maybe they will all receive the same but use it differently. One never knows.
White OutI stare
up and away
as the snow blankets us
shrouded in a winter white out
the chasethe waves chased us
and we ran
squealing when the icy Atlantic caught up to our toes
the sea-foam lingered
and she watched it
touching what she called the ocean’s bubble bath
the sand stuck to our feet
and we smiled at each other
racing back toward the water in a chase of our own
|John Epstein: |
"We do not choose to be born. We do not choose our parent, or the country of our birth. We do not, most of us, choose to die; nor do we choose the time and conditions of our death. But within this realm of choicelessness, we do choose how we live."”
"If you have never been hated by your child, you have never been a parent."
I am the greatest, I said that even before I knew I was.