O[d]d | aRt.
Odd flowers
for odd times
The oddity of perceptions
Who watches, who is watched?
When, How, Why?
Who?
For whom?
What’s new, what is old
What’s odd?
Color or shape?
Reality or invention?
Art or work?
Lost or found?
Who plays?
Who’s played?
O
D
d
Ends.
All arts are political acts.
🥕
Luciana Mariano ©
Some days are like that. We realize our talents, but we are also well aware of our limitations. We are safe and sound, but we feel trapped and paralyzed. We observe the fine details, the beauty, the harmony that surrounds us and yet, despite all the light, we are still haunted by our uncertainties, kind of a sweet surrender to our secret darkness and self-sabotaging mechanisms. It’s a battle, but it’s also a dance. Life is an ephemeral act, an overwhelming work of art that defies time. Time is perennial, while life is fragile. Art is the generous part of us that continues to sing through time, long after our voices are gone.
Self awareness and care. When you own your flaws and master your limiting beliefs, what is left within you is the power of resillience and the infinite possibilities of art.
I have no idea where to go… But I can feel I am getting closer.
I know I don’t need a car to take me there. Nor luggage.
My trip starts in my heart, travels through my eyes and can reach the most distant places in the Universe, as long as my hands can hold my brushes and my soul can carry my dreams.
It’s a lonely path, no doubt.
But there will be amazing creatures and moments along the way. Bonfires and the shadows will keep me warm and dance with me when the wind blows and the stars speak throughout the silence.
Life is an illusion. Time doesn’t exist.
But art does.
And thats all that matters.
That’s how it is.
Good and bad – they all end.
Luckly… And unfortunately.
Sometimes time feels like an eternity… Other times it escapes as water between the fingers.
I wish I could play some more.
But I can’t.
Not enough money.
Not the right passport.
Not enough time.
I am always afraid when the good now seems to escape too fast into a not so funny now.
Tomorrow may never happen, but somehow it still haunts me.
I want to stay here.
I want my now to freeze and i want all problems to stay as far away as possible from me.
That’s why here and now feels so good to me… Because it’s all I have.
People are walking disappointments in its full potential.
Here and now I do not count on them.
Loneliness suits me well here and now.
I am going back to the past, where everything ended.
My body aches as it was begging to stay.
Here and now is pure uncertainty, but is better then before.
And I am afraid of going back to before.
I don’t want o play that game anymore.
If all things must end, let the things that ended be dead.
Let the now never stop being.
Because, in fact, it never does.
After 18 years walking (and falling) together, it´s time to walk alone. Taking the journey by myself and healing my wounds by spreading the best of me along the path. I do it through painting. This is it; this is the best of me. It may not be enough for my old judges and enemies, but I´m setting myself free from the old tyrans now. I desearve happyness. I had enough of a careless relationship, I´ve been betrayed enough, I´ve been taken forgranted, unloved and ignored more than I could handle for this lifetime. It´s time to be free, loved and merry! It´s time to paint my way into life.
********
O tempo é sábio.
Contatos e informações sobre o Projeto Retratos de Familia: lucianamariano1@hotmail.com ou +55 11 67668040
Abraços, Luciana Mariano
Â
Time is wise…
luciana mariano 