Angels and Demons

Our entire contemporary civilized legacy is incepted an eon ago. Our upward condition of sophistication and chivalry is woven from our goodness, nobility and grace.

And yet in the depths of us something else dwells, an eerie premonition lurking upon the surface, patiently awaiting its chance to seize the totality of the being. It sleeps there in that inner darkness, a primal abyss locked up in our past so far in the human soul it almost borders with eternity in mists of oblivion. In its devilish dreams this condemned creature yearns for savagery, despair, bleeding and raw flesh. In the nature of this wretched being lay all wisdoms of inconsistency, corruption, destruction and illusion. This personal demon of ours is awaiting restless in anticipation to be unleashed from his exile into freedom of fury, free from the cage of that iconic depth where he had been so cunningly deceived by choice, sneaking as cast out and lay hidden in secrecy. It’s so easy to be indulged by this primal calling, it’s so tempting to surrender into the anarchy and disorder of our savage impulses. We don’t need any external stimulus to turn to our ferocious nature, it’s there, part of our genetic code.

In this global plutocratic rule, democracy is being stepped on so forward and insolent, violent clashes are elevated into revolutions, wars and genocide, just for the thrill of destruction. Indeed, our demons are out loud roaming free. We live in times when opposite extremes of our true nature are imposing their rule by force.

I’ve ruled to love, so I’ve decided never to kill my own demon. It’s not my intention to use it, for it serves as a reminder. I’ve put it to dreamless sleep, locked down in its uneasy existence, in a condition to be tortured only by the anger of his solitary presence. These labyrinths of that ancient prison are build from mathematics and alchemy, there’s no way out.

It’ll never wake up again and see the dawn of the surface, ever...

Art, celebration of life

Art is the highest form of expression. In its forms it reflects the sentient nature of humanity, our ability to dive deep within and present marvels. Art extends beyond imagination and creativity, bordering with magic. Its origins are deep within our spirit, a secret cove where our soul creates feelings, the center of all centers; from there it grows on the outside at the edges of the brain where reason is born.

Art is on the inside, art is on the outside.

It can’t be explained with spoken words, nor it can be deciphered through thoughts, art can be found only in between, in an esoteric plane of existence. Through it, we celebrate life.

It is a universal language of understanding, intertwining all cultures, a bond across religions, it defines nationality by promoting values which strive toward higher grounds by erasing borders. Art makes us dependent only on nature and each other. In its essence it’s a tool which defines the rate of our evolutionary unfolding. It’s a consequence of our psychological, sociological, biological and metaphysical growth.

Through variety of life nature has proven to be gifted with artistic qualifications. It’s and attribute which interprets its nobility and grace, hence, nature is the supreme artisan.

Art is a measure of our humanity.

Influence of resonance

Human ability to chase dreams and implement them into reality. To understand that edges of infinity can be found in the smallest grain of sand, to experience eternity of a lifetime in a single breath.

In this blessed existence of mine, where I live the peaks of my happiness, I feel as if I’m on top of a mountain and It grows forevermore. Beneath this white lake of exaltation, at the very bottom of my being, the feeling of naked love resides in its true shape, a most innocent form. This depth is my foundation, a basic drive to which I turned since forever when all other senses faded into memory. Here lies my secret lighthouse which harbors me home from restless seas and those huge waves of uncertainty. Those silent ports which convert unrest into something calm… and I remain that patient rider of shadows who’s hardly ever tired.

Every time when the skin turned numb, love resonated intensely from the core, thus opening possibilities for new awakening of the being in totality, a complete restoration of faith. And then life feels like a fresh dream again, dreamed in embraces of another, an ancient one… mine.

For love, which I hold most dear in my very depths, brings to light the power of my identification, and forevermore defines my art of living. Hence the value of my existence, the basic meaning of my lifeline, depends on my ability to love.

For I am never lost…