thelostkiddo-blog1

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Nothing just chilling.. killing

[thelostkiddo-blog1]

Farewell 2019

[thelostkiddo-blog1]

- Here’s what people mean when they say they need to “find themselves”: they’re finding new values. Our identity—that is, the thing that we perceive and understand as the “self”—is the aggregation of everything we value. So when you run away to be alone somewhere, what you’re really doing is running away somewhere to re-evaluate your values.

[thelostkiddo-blog1]

I’ve been working my ass off to do smth cool & be as creative as I can (hope so), I ended up spending limitlessly hours on PicsArt app .

I thought I might be okay to share dis pic I recently worked on lol maybe most appropriate to say play with ..

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My name is red

-I Am Called Black. 59

- Shortly a silence enveloped the whole workshop where close to eight painters, students, and apprentices worked in the small cells which constituted the lower floor .

This was a post beating silence , the likes of which I’d experienced many times ; a silence which would be broken at times by a nerve-wracking chuckle or a joke, at times by a few sobs or the suppressed moan of the beaten boy before this crying fit would remind the masters of miniaturists of the beating they themselves received as apprentices . But the half-blind master ninety-two-years-old master caused me to sense something deeper for a moment, here, far from all the battles and the turmoil:The feeling of that everything was coming to an End . Immediately before the end of the world, there would also be such silence.

Painting is the silence of thought and the music of sight

[thelostkiddo-blog1]

My name is red

-Black

- For dozens of years, as I ventured from city to city , I’d widened Shekure’s month out of desire and had imagined her lips to be more pert , fleshy and irresistible, like a large, shiny cherry . Had I taken Shukure’ portrait with me , rendered in the style of venetian masters, I wouldn’t be in such loss during my long travels when I could scarcely remember my beloved , whose face I’d felt somewhere behind me . For if a lover’s face survives emblazoned on your heart , the world is still your home .

[thelostkiddo-blog1]

My name is red

-Enishte

- He shares a likeness with his father , whom I’ve seen once or twice: he’s tall & thin , and makes me slightly nervous yet becoming gestures with his arms and his hands. His costume of placing his hands on his knees or of starring deeply or intently into my eyes as if to say “ I understand, I’m listening to you with reverence “ when I tell him something with import , or the way he nods his head with a subtle rhythm matching the measures of my words are all quite appropriate. Now that I’ve reached this age . I know that true respect arises not from the heart, but from discrete rules & deference .