Smidgens
Words can paint, each letter, a bristle of a brush. The sentence becomes a stroke. Paragraphs shape objects. A portrait needs no beginning, middle, or end. When we look deep at a painting, we can’t help but wonder why the Mona Lisa smiles. If you look deep enough at portraits, close enough to pick out desires, they jump out of the frame. The frame is the story. Break out! Break out!
https://tricksterchase.com/category/portraits/
Thanks!
LikeLike
You are a very gifted writer!
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is very true.
LikeLiked by 1 person
love this, makes me feel like I’m standing in front of the Mona Lisa trying to eye the story!
LikeLiked by 2 people
B e a u t i f u l !
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love your blog and i am now following you. You are different & i love you for that. Thanks!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The way the youngest is looking to the oldest. Movement of a telling regard. Love.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My brain is plump with affection. Your words ripple.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your writing is wonderful. It inspires the artist within. Every word is perfectly placed; makes me imagine the thoughts that once upon a time were yours.
And thank you for visiting my blog.
LikeLiked by 2 people
You got a beautiful mind! Love the way you playing with the words. Brilliant!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks so much
LikeLike
They say that everyone with the portrait of Mona Lisa hanging in houses that are inhabited by girls are bound to cry more than everyone, its the curse of the Mona lisa, well that’s what did my grandma said.
We had a Mona Lisa hanged in our salon, and I cried a lot lot and is very sensitive.
I guess that Mona lisa’s portrait still haunts me. Hher smile always caused a feeling of anxiety in me, her eyes too, it was as if she..well
I loved what you have written here, you write so beautifully. Thank you. Christa
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow! what a unique blogger.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, words paint and pictures speak. Images exist in either or both languages. But look deep enough in either/both, though, and you’ll see more than texts; you’ll see an artist looking at you through the frame, the story, the narrative of your shared languages and lookings. Thanks for the likes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
indeed. you, are an artist with words. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sorry for the delay. I’m still learning my way around WordPress. Thank you for your kind words. I am pleased to be inspiring!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love the still art. One can use their own imaginations to tell the story of the still; what was happening, what happened to them…beautiful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know why the Mona Lisa smiled. Melbourne (Australia) is currently exhibiting the art collection of Catherine the Great, and…
LikeLiked by 2 people
I like the scarves imagery. Interesting use of quotation marks. You are making me think and this inspires ideas within me. Thanks
LikeLiked by 2 people
Elan, what you wrote is so cool and it sparked the memory of a poem I wrote years ago from the viewpoint of woman trapped in a painting who observes those observing her and who wants to break out. I don’t know if there is room to type the entire poem here or not. But here goes…hope you enjoy it.
LANDSCAPE
I see
skeletal frames
with blue silk scarves
knotted and tied,
anchored inside:
the air bursting within them.
The scarves bulge out
full and taut:
the air bursting inside them.
It leaves me feeling stranded.
Once I saw it in a frame
hung beside a bowl.
I didn’t think that ever again
I’d see this field,
cold as lead,
with granite stones that
mark the graves,
Nor walk the path
of those ahead.
Yet here I am
in blue silk scarves,
waving to the passing crowd–
waving hard
but they don’t see.
They gather for a look at me.
A closer look:
“Can’t you see,
the structure of the bones is small.”
“The hands, the feet most delicate.”
“Her teeth were straight.
Her spine, as well.”
“She lived in health
though history tells
her life was very difficult.”
And so they spoke and carried on
while I stood there
not quite forgotten.
I stood there
in blue silk scarves,
a canvas veil before me.
— a poem by Renee Walker
LikeLiked by 4 people
The most curious thing for me about Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa is she has no eyebrows 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wonderful! The Word was in the beginning, and…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love the pictures! Wonderful stuff. Thanks for stopping by my blog, and I look forward to seeing your incredible imagination in action on your posts.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Yes, that is why I love it. A moment in time.
LikeLiked by 2 people
The word portraits are supposed to stay still, like a still painting. They aren’t meant to move anywhere, but stay within a certain realm. No plot, no rising action. Maybe just an action or one mood that does not fall one way or another.
LikeLiked by 4 people
Thanks
LikeLike
So creative. I love your blog. Mood! Many fall flat.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am definitely in love with your writing.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Yes! Yes!
LikeLiked by 2 people