Ride the road

When the summer is getting into the faster and faster pace, marbles bump each other with their glass bellies and change directions according to their wishes. And something that has been sleeping cosily in one canvas bag all together for the past few years has to separate and leave your pocket. It is always sad to lose some marbles, not in a sense of going mad, but in the sense that you can't always be a winner in all the games. On the other hand, the road is the exciting part and we are always on one. Our atoms move like marbles, hitting each other gently with their bellies and bouncing off. They are on the road, so why don't we see ourselves moving as fast? 

It might be just an observation, but we want to materialize movement in things and experiences, forgetting what experiences and moments we have... right now. The body might not move but our thoughts wander. And nobody can simply help it, just acknowledge the path your thoughts made and maybe count it as an achievement, greeting them with a glass of fresh made lemonade. 

I am always on the road, through the thin sleep nights when I wake up to draw my dreams, when my dream whispers to me to get one of those leather cowboy flasks for water to carry in style, when my dream writes notes on the spilled white sauce with green peas and it says "We are beat" or maybe when somebody sings a song with no melody or absolutely no logical explanation of lyrics and it just makes sense not to make any sense. 

That is THE ROAD and supposedly the best trip is not knowing what awaits you on the road. Maybe summer marble game will be your road to Damascus.

Lovely animated drawings by Oamul, Chinese illustrator, from his series "On the Road". Check more of his work right HERE

 

Winnie Truong

The week is on its midway. Unfortunately, today Wednesday feels like Monday just because I wasn't counting time since Saturday. And the minute when the awareness of the time flow tickled my toes this morning the vision of the future appeared to be sleeping next to me as well. The month is on its midway. The autumn is already putting its coat on and planning to pay a visit no matter where you would be. So if we are counting time - here and now is the time to give a smart advice to style and grow your hair, to prepare a natural fur that would cure you from a bold chilly autumn wind. Or that I could crawl into your hair and sleep until the winter is gone. The moon is in the right position and the day seems to be perfect for a new hair style. For a new activity as well, for new findings too. Winnie Truong a pencil crayon artist, with an amazing ability to expose a vivid attention to details and structure, is my newest finding. The big sized drawings of human Sasquatches and XVI century lady hair styles improved with a bit of nastiness. It is all about counting time and trimming your hair ends. 

Be aware and take care.

Ronit Baranga's summer breeze

Alluring mornings, alluring nights. You can sense everything already. It feels like it is just a toe from you. Not even a full step.

The word Summer was used so much that it became shabby. Stripper's name, here she dances for you not seducing anymore albeit still with the intention to. Worn out and trashed in so many ways. Summer. And anyway, still with the same grace that it has been taught in the very beginning. Summer. However, you are waiting for it. Or just realizing that it will come as all the routine. Still it is a part of your full understanding of a world's system. When the soft perfume pervades the room. When the specific light beams. You can sense that it is so near, less than a foot step from you. She quits her shameless job and runs towards life to stumble on what can she do this summer.

The most beautiful with a reborn grace. Summer

And here is Ronit Baranga's alluring clay and porcelain sculptures. Perfectly elegant teacups trying to escape from you. Sneaking off the table on finger tips and giving you space to land softly on the table cloth, to rest your dizzy head soaked of late spring smells and enchantments. Your food plates waiting for the summer-like dinner, whispering spells with cherry-red lips. All this makes you create small world filled with drastic and magic stories. All this makes you feel like living in that world will be your task for the next summer. Check her work HERE

Last Years memories

"Woolen socks, lost shoes, wallets and hearts, anger and love, love and anger. All the laughter and giggle. All the promises and resolutions, which weren't kept. Sand and sea, that I didn't see. Snow the last day of a year. Beautiful women and intelligent men that are strict in a framework. Attraction and truth. Low voices and sweet words in different languages. Kisses which are getting better and kisses that will always be "NOT SO"."

 

Last Year memories