Aphorism

Painting by Armastaja


Poetry is like wine, a habit that develops with time, like most habits, like most art forms.
The more we read poetry, the more we appreciate it, just like jazz.
Until it becomes an addiction.

But now that I write this on my agenda full of scrabbles, during a short break before a performance, I take notice of the shadows.
The sun is low; swallows are brushing the sky with a breathtaking speed.
The sun is melting into the tree.

Is then that my mind changed to painting, then dance, then again poetry.

All is one

A painting that moves our spirit is a poetry made by light and shadows, like the landscape I am drinking with my eyes. At the same time it is dance it moves on space through perspective, just like poetry moves through images and rhythm.

Musicality of words…………….. The staccato or legato of colours……………….. The energy or suspension of a movement……………expression, feeling……..life.

The swallows are still flying, the sun still melting.

The wind on my face...............................