Thorns At Sunset.

Thorns at Sunset

Still. The aura of bright red heralds the perfunctory grief. As darkness steals across the sky, the stalks sway in reverence. There he goes. Sinking. His countenance tells it all- worn-out. No one can tell where he goes. No one has ever been there- the other end of the world, in the horizon.  Some say he’s a tramp, homeless. Others say he’s a wanderer.

The birds come back from their explorations. They call onto the others to come witness the spectacle. A spectacle they behold in awe.  A feast for the eyes.  A beaut, these moments. Others fly across in the foreground, either to bask in his ambience or coming back from their exploits. They wail. The trees whisper silently. The wind treads cautiously.  Everyone takes on a tinge of red. The atmosphere is shrouded in solemnity. The air reeks of the Grim Reaper.

The thorns look on-bemused.

Slowly, he dies out…like the candle light starved of nourishment.

Photo Credit: Nana Kofi Acquah
Tittle borrowed from caption of photo on Nana Kofi’s blog post

Words Are Beautiful!

“Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything that is beautiful; for beauty is God’s handwriting-a wayside sacrament. Welcome it in every fair face, in every fair sky, in every fair flower, and thank God for it as a cup of blessing.”     – Ralph Waldo Emerson.

I love art! To me, beauty defines art- art is beauty. Art gives a totally different meaning to life-beauty. Beauty is a timeless experience of pleasure and satisfaction. According to Oscar Wilde, “Beauty is the only thing that time cannot harm.” Do you realize that feeling that, like the thief at night, sneaks in without you noticing? You teleport into a trance where you are draped in awe. You are stunned and wonder how the elements come together to form such a marvel. That is appreciation. You’ve fallen in love. You try to gorge yourself with every part of it.

For me, art is not only manifested in sculpture, painting, architecture (my future), photography (my rekindled love), music, drama, and the new media (video, film and digital art). It expresses itself in language vis-à-vis writing. The beauty from the way words are stringed to paint a picture fascinates me. The landscape painter uses his brush strokes to convey meaning to the landscape he is reproducing or producing. However the writer uses his dexterity at the use and play of words to paint quite a fascinating picture of that same landscape perhaps relaying much more vivid detail than the painter by describing the blade of grass and the way it sways in reverence to the comforting breeze. In a nutshell, words are beautiful.

Writing Man

Now that’s my style of writing (wait till you read my next post! *excited!!!*). I just love to play with words (pun intended, lol). The beauty words can convey is… fulfilling…gratifying…indulging…ecstatic… passionate…overwhelming…unfathomable…bottomless…beautiful!