The Book Of Creation

Whoever understands the meanings of art and the language of science, understands God's way of thinking.

I read a book, the book reads me, because the writing, the story and the emotions of the reality we experience together bind us. I am a book of any book, with the same essence, represented by an emphasis on the penetrating spirit. Our agreement being achieved through a metaphysical look at the world beyond the textual.

Sometimes the pen with which I make annotations directly on the book seems to me to write alone. It seems to contribute to my awakening from the reality of the book in which I integrate my soul. It seems to be the common denominator between expression and content. An artist like me identifies with all the tools of his work, and assimilates them as a true creed, then integrates them into the secrets of his self.

The pen and the brush form a whole that contains body and soul, uniting life and death through their magic to create an unparalleled work of art, beyond time and space. What makes the pen express itself through the control of the constructive imagination, forgetting everything that has been said before it, is the very experience of seeing the brush that begins to move based on light, even if the intensity with which it applies colors is from pale to bright red.

Of course, the pen can write freely, invigoratingly, sensitively, in the name of art and the artist, but first he must go on, standing tall for as long as possible without fear of falling. His writing will be perfected during the period when the brush will fulfill its second youth, through discretion and wisdom, considering itself close to the sacred ones, being able to take over the movement of the brush and turn it into a form of concretization of language and highlighting the literary expression that survives too high views.

In the celestial world, both the pen and the brush send rays of light in the form of spirit, influencing the stars from the first to the last page of the story. The artist uses both as an act of honoring God, to perfect his reality without denying himself, but doubling as a being.

I am an exceptional artist because the pen whispered to the brush what to paint, and the brush painted a hand that writes alone, black on white, that I am the subject of the rationality of creation.

The pen asks the brush not to take into account the patterns of a language of classical perfection and rigor, but to highlight the features of the hand that easily leads his writing to universality. The brush took advantage of this opportunity to say that if the pen had been in the foreground of the painting, contained in the hand that writes about the plurality of worlds, then art would have been easier to digest.

Or the pen was not correctly informed by the brush's suggestions to give writing a greater accuracy in the philosophy of art and aesthetic experience, apart from any divine intervention, so as to easily do what was necessary for a painting to gain life through the words experienced in the presence of Creation (springing from effort and soul, from legend and truth).

And so, the artist, the young man who described the landscapes of other worlds in the book of worlds, no longer accurately assessed the pen's ability to transfer imagination to paper and document the invisible in other words, but continued to paint an endless, two-sided mirror as if his hand were the one wielding the brush in the great illusion of reality.

I know that the pen will never claim to belong to the brush, but it will certainly pass on what the brush had to express in vivid and inviting colors.

This is what it means to be an artist, to be able able to treat the brush as the author of a secret manuscript that describes, step by step, the path of existential and artistic truth, and to treat the pen as a manifestation of the acrylic spirit that is expressed only on the easel through the divine way of creating shapes and images.

The nature of the knowledge that an artist demonstrates is in accordance with his degree of reception of the "sensitive beauty" specific to a rose, and this is due to the sensible way of being the angel who knows another angel.

The artist can know the "sensitive beauty" the most, and can make the rose known and loved the most, the more he resembles an angel in nature.

So, materiality must be excluded from the area of aesthetic criteria, by invoking the senses and the mystical thrill, the alterity that cultivates the idea of the artist's fulfillment in his responsible relationship with the beings of nature, in a divine universe.

To capture the connection between a rose and spirituality, a mediator was used, namely a symbol full of deep understanding, the Sign of the Cross.

In turn, the cross being formed by two lines arranged perpendicularly, intersects the field of art and culture at the point where spirituality and painting become a literary composition.

Can a straight line drawn from the representations of art intersect another straight line drawn from a vision of colors at the point where the symbol becomes an experience in revelation?

If so, then I think of myself as a visionary of the spirit of independence in thought, who traverses with a brush through the whole idea of Creation, beyond words and images.

Art is received by the sentient man in accordance with the way of being spiritual. The intention of the senses to take shape through divine intervention requires a special feeling, related to the composition of a delicate painting with the help of a brush full of charm and imagination, which defies the laws of time and space.

Therefore, in order to become an artist, you must be connected with what is sensitive and has the capacity to be captured in a painting whose peculiarity consists in the identity and spiritual resurrection of a mystical thought.

He who feels must be perceived as the essence of an object perceived by the senses, just as only a saint perceives the presence of angels.

When I see something colorful, I perceive the color with the particular reason of a painter who walks his sight through the gardens of heaven. The painter compares the fabulous features in the portraits of his characters with the feelings of a sensitive conscience, just as the reason that God has placed in us compares universal intentions.

The mastery of the painter can be felt through the quality of colors essentially perceived by another sense, that of communion with sacred things, as happens when you see something that can always be seen differently.

I have always imagined that I am a hero of words, able to favor a special artistic vision. The answer of my pen is immediately necessary to the visionary imagination, but at the same time it is shrouded in mystery, because it often resembles a brush that, by mixing color stains, acquires the equivalence of the means of expression of poetry or plasticity (composition, valuation, stylization, generalization, and so on).

The pen must ensure the pictorial transposition of what could have been expressed just as well with the brush strongly influenced by the appearance of a thing in progress rather than that of a finished object.

The force of my vision is modeled in another space, beyond accessible, or accessible only to the gaze that meets at a polyvalent level with a mystical reality. My pen knows this and condenses its mystery of writing beyond ordinary comprehension, but in such a way as to capture the true nature of my being, here and beyond.

Thus, I manage to translate myself into a sacred, parabolic, allegorical writing, foldable on an artistic reality, giving the pen the importance due to a brush that, bypassing the universal laws, opens in the eye of consciousness beyond me, beyond this world. My words are the ink of a life that is not written on paper.

There is a way of writing by which the soul of the pen can be united with the soul of another sensitive body, such as the brush, to which it can administer a real, living, immaterial or spiritual and immortal substance.

In addition, the virtue of this soul is diffused outwards, through a formation of powerful symbols with the help of the UNIVERSAL FLUID, that is, through the act of creation, with the help of the brush. The soul cannot be attracted by matter to give life to a form of exteriorization of artistic beauty, if the pen does not contain the generative virtues of a masterpiece: chromatic chords, expressiveness of plastic language, meanings giving unity, clarity and fluency.

So, if I thought of myself as a pen that runs through the tip of the brush a thread of story, I would probably find it appropriate to analyze my condition as Creator in terms of ambition to exploit the virtues of a highly refined technique: that of creating depth where all the events of life are decanted and all its ideals are projected.

You can't play with science without being yourself an enchanted pen transposed into a colorful, visionary brush that generates the fantastical.

Probably the most remarkable and characteristic manifestation of my art is the acquisition of the pen to feel the brushstrokes in forms of expression of surrealism, conceived as a juxtaposition of two distant realities united to create a new reality.

The visionary effectiveness that enhances the initial powers of the artistic imagination is given by the power of a big brush to highlight the elegance of a brush that masterfully treats the expressions of my soul in an infinite number of universes.

My pen possesses an awareness that I have rarely met before, it possesses an evolved spirit which, if I succeed in mastering it, I will be able to penetrate deeper into the heart of the universe, just as a navigator has a well-calibrated compass at hand and rushes more and more out to sea to discover new shores.

The complementary instrument to the pen is the brush with which the artist moves in the world of oil colors, also having a pure, lucid and subtle spirit, able to complete a lucid vision, an image of space exposed chronologically as science evolves. And the pen and the brush, both so twinned by an artistic language, can make the pure blood of the heart flow into rivers of purple only if they are directed by the "hand that leads chance" to universality. At the same time, they cultivate the taste for visual culture, imposing the tendency towards the monumental and grandiose.

I think that's where I find myself. Like the enchanted candle in the holy chamber of the alchemists, the well-formed eye of the pen sheds its ray of light on a mysterious parchment, anointed with the pure blood of the heart, and at the same time the brush being possessed by the spirit of an artist of sacred writing, will influence the rays reflected on the surface of the easel as, at the same time, the means of expression of the divine soul.

I go even further with this reasoning, saying that the artist takes possession of the soul of the pen to enchant the inventing minds with that incessant flow of blood – burning in demiurgic words, but at the same time the artist delights with the force of the brush to give sensitivity to the commotion his soul is making, as in the case of magic, the crystalline rays of a crystal globe penetrate the hearts of those who understood the art of charm and incantations.

I am not just a unique artist by expressing the space and the way I give life to ideas. I am a pen thirsty for truth, accompanied by a brush inseparable from the strong essences of the artistic imagination. They are a ray of the solar spiritual being accompanied by the light coming from the antithesis of the natural worlds and the man-made ones.

I read at least one hour every morning.

I have learned that every morning is another essential page of a life whose subject is knowledge.

The requirements of a beautiful writing are given by the sense of taste for the art universe that the pen awakens with its uniform breath, a taste that we find in the tactical sense of the brush that cultivates the interest for visual culture.

He who has noticed well, in literature, as in painting, the hand that discreetly paints the space of the story is the same hand that gives the pen the characteristic of the living to transform endlessly, pushing creation further, and gives the brush that fragile serenity of vision with which he meticulously draws his miraculous passing life.

When the pen warms the substance of its unique expression, through imagination, and the brush arches its divine movement on the surface of the easel, then the hand that coordinates them both, depending on how the intermediate environment is affected, has the quality of crossing the space of two artistic realities: the expressiveness of the artistic language and the creative transmission of some emotions.

Of course, a sensitive object does not change the hand that uses it, but it is always touched by a hand sensitive to the vibrations of a deep and very nuanced feeling.

Conclusion: A cold hand will always react in a material way in contact with cold objects, and a sensitive hand will act as a spiritual anesthetic in contact with fragile, sensitive, artistic objects.

To define surrealism, you have to build the image of an artist from the future of a work of art that moves the present with the plasticity of a spontaneous feeling of Deja-Vu.

The future, subordinated to the analysis of the expression of images signed by a virtual reality, moves the work of art of the present towards the plasticity of an authentic expression, metaphorizing in a score of epic memory.

If you can, build your image from the sense of freedom that surrealism gives, thinking of your memory as a combination of all the predominant artistic elements in a time that unfolds continuously, like a wheel of existence in the Ring of the Universe.

An entire personal promotion strategy is a construction of the image of the present made by an artist of the future.

The present is made from the personal promotion of an artist who builds the image of the future from the directing movements of the plasticity of his paintings.

There are so many people who have discovered the sacred things only with the help of their eyes, but have not been able to dominate them with the spirit. Others always pass by carelessly, and most do not know what to do with them.

Holy things are too holy even for the saints who sanctify the icons.

The fundamental property of a pen is this: by any touch of the sheet of paper it can shape at least one word. And the fundamental property of a brush is to highlight with the help of color the essential elements of an image.

Basically, it is useless to know how to use the word if you do not know how to link the color to a vision or a memory, so as to touch the subject of a Creation full of story and mystery.

Likewise, the talent of a writer intersects with the talent of a painter to the point where the pen can mimic a brush in the sense that each word can hide a feeling or can retain the monopoly of a color that he feels is consistent in promoting an image.

Let's try to draw with various words a rose whose colors surpass in meaning the legibility of a well-written, relevant and precious content.

In this case, the wording must equal the softness of the brush, through the tenderness and sensitivity of the sensitive hand of an artist who rekindles the divine spark inside and seeks harmony in lyricism, in the mystery of nature.

So, we can say that drawing is a word that the artist expresses in the form of color with the help of the brush.

To be an artist means to paint everything in words, taking into account the fact that any word is the expression of a form of devotion to fluency, originality, inspiration, specific to a personality that has become a symbol of an assumption of nature "sub specie interioritatis".

My pen seems to be driven by my visionary and polyvalent imagination towards forms of expression that herald the image of the "Renaissance" in a new, flourishing world. And if this happens at the suggestion of the graceful brush, which aims to model an image from another world, in a futuristic space, it means that we have fulfilled a Christian duty.

Probably, the symbolism of a good Christian is the quality of the pen to be transposed into a brush that can give a lot of color in a clearly surreal composition.

A connoisseur knows how to unite an object with the matter of a body, just as the painter knows how to unite color with the deep expression of a true feeling. As such, in art, the natural way of being of an object must be understood as a physical way of being of a form.

To know how to receive a form immaterially means to put the feeling in a color that does not change the state of use of the object (or its state of rest), but makes it different.

I wake up every morning at the same time. I don't know why this is happening, I never set the alarm. I think it's the sun that lights up my room with a smile so wide that it fills me with energy. Then I start reading, and I don't get out of bed until I read for at least an hour.

I conclude: it is important to be enlightened in order to wake up, and you must be awake before you are a learned person.

I learned from books that I don't have to read much to write well.

More important than reading a lot is writing as much as possible.

The talented artist will never be a product of the teaching brought by the school, but will rather be a product of creative work.

Talent ennobles the creation given to man by nature so that he may return to the Eternal Cause.
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Two spirits dwell in me. The first is characterized by the tendency towards unity, the other is characterized by the tendency towards multiplicity. The first is reason, the other is life. The first calms down, the other stirs.

As far as art is concerned, even if this is how alterity is achieved, I believe that I am the common expression of the two spirits, that is, they are nothing but two clearly opposite conceptions of a spiritual being on a magnificent journey called the "Science of Living Through the Other".

There is a very obvious connection between me and the bringing of art to life, so obvious that the style I have adopted re-edits the intimate features of the Renaissance.

The Renaissance itself is largely connected with the persistence with which my spirit surfaces in different eras, wearing various forms of visual expression.

My style retains a permanent specific character.

See beauty in a universe of stars that deserves its place in the book of a life full of meaning.

The book of life deserves 5 stars if it considers the conceptualization of natural beauty.

My writing speaks about a charming character who lives in two worlds, that of Hauff and that of Andersen.

Writing itself traverses these worlds, from mirror to reflection, and does not stop until it finds its balance between the Philosopher's Stone and the Secret Doctrine, so that the newly shaped character seems to have the quality of a creator embraced by the bliss of the Renaissance.

I am identical with the impulses that lead to what is called in art: "Imperceptible Beauty" and "Expansive Reflection".

I'm reading a book written by John Grisham. The important thing is for the world to remain loyal to the way I describe it. I'm a brilliant director.

I will write a book with famous quotes. First quote: Celebrity is the sum of the words that make up my name. Do I still need to introduce myself?

I am reading a story written with a divine soul. Words begin to be part of me, of my story, even if my life is different from the life of the one in the story.

The words are to blame. They are hypostases of the manifestation of my spirit in the matter of a simultaneous universe that applies to the ALL ONE and to the Unique ALL IN ALL.

The existence of my creation is so insistently demanded by science that I call it "Light", from a spiritual standpoint. Therefore, art, like science, manifests itself in everything that is differentiated by the purification done in spirit of Eternal Cause.

Only the keen eye of a clairvoyant sees light where the normal eye perceives only darkness.

You learn something new from people every day, and you are never determined what to do with what you have learned from them.

You better let everything be lost, so that you don't get lost in order to satisfy your curiosity.

A connoisseur knows why a thing can have one form or another, different from its original form. The way in which this can be interpreted, from the empirical point of view of the knower, depends on his quality of being simultaneously in six complementary dimensions: in heaven and on earth, in matter and illusion, in art and in the artistic mentality.

The connoisseur can traverse the substance of the object in the same way that the brush crosses each point of the canvas, with different colors, from one side to the other of the frame. The connoisseur considers how to be the intellect of that object himself.

A connoisseur has acquired the knowledge necessary to change the form of things, all the more so since he knows how to observe in detail the difference between their "essence" and "nature". In fact, the parallel between the knower and things must be made simultaneously with the distinction between "essence" and "nature".

I am a connoisseur because my essence is in the nature of things that change their form due to the object of thought that I produce myself.

Each character in my work has the symbol of a spiritual attribute, which resides in the periodic appearance of man in two distinct worlds. An earthly one, that of the rose, and an artistic one, that of the artist.

The experience of the soul unites them both, and unites them through the concept of writing and thinking, interpreted as a visionary movement, crystallized in a separate science that touches all existences.

The pen with which we take notes or write, sometimes saves us, for the simple fact that after writing beautifully we ourselves shine in front of us. In writing we reread our own reflection in thoughts. Maybe the things I never exposed are like a wood-burning stove and, being dark, pictures are drawn on the ceiling, the quinces are sitting on the window and waiting to be tasted. Everything smells like memories when we write…

It's easy to read in general, some people read on the street, for the simple reason: why have a bad memory in your free time and a good one when you borrow books? We explore the time depending on the situation, it is a postcard that we send daily, especially in the morning…

Every day you become better and more valuable. Much better and more valuable than you ever thought you would become.

Every day we all become simpler and more accessible, the good words we receive are like love letters, we never have the strength to do without them…

A flower says a lot through its perfume, and if you don't smell the perfume, it doesn't mean that you don't like the flower… but just that its beauty is so attractive, that sometimes you forget to look inside it.

Small steps, one today, another tomorrow, can turn into a huge step in 15 years. The skilled man is the one who took a huge step with the help of small steps.

Vanity is a tree with too many multicolored leaves, but with fragile roots.

Learn to grow with strong roots, rather than colorful.

My art is a chapter independent of the genres of beauty, in that everything that seems beautiful to others is for me just a strain on the feeling of total freedom that leads to the quality of being a Creator.

It is no less true that my art defines itself as an "expression of the self" loaded with the potential to reveal a world transfigured into a work of art.

The quality of being a Creator emanates from your attitude towards the effects of science.

The longest story of Creation is the fulfillment of the science of being a science yourself.

You cannot broaden your horizons of knowledge without looking at the world as a bee that produces honey from nectar.

Look at yourself as a flower would look at you: through the eyes of a bee.

At first there was chaos. Things were beginning to connect, but in a rather twisted and even strange way. Then the order followed. Things began to be arranged, measured, and interpreted in such a way that they made sense.

I think that the final form of artistic writing results, in fact, from the various nuances of grace with which you make things come to light out of darkness.

Every morning is like the snow that falls at night when we sleep. We wake up and every day we step on a new day like we would on snow, sometimes the wind blows and snow spreads in front of us, other times it's like reading the best book in town, possibly bought from an antique shop. On that day, maybe someone reads a weather newspaper on a train. Maybe he doesn't know how to get off the train to look like it's in a short story written by Balzac (he was asleep at 6 o'clock, woke up at 12 o'clock at night and then wrote for the remaining 18 hours).

Don't wait until everything is perfect. It's like buying a lottery ticket and putting all your hopes into Sunday's draw.
Waiting for everything to be perfect is like stepping forward with your right foot. Buying a lottery ticket is like writing a letter that you never send, luck at gambling is blind luck, to have it you don't need it…

A tip for all children: learn as best you can. But at least one of those who will not learn anything at school, will reach above all.

I wish upon all students that just started school that none of them learns how I "learned". However, I would be interested in the single one that resembles me.

It's not worth fighting in a war that doesn't deserve its victory.

It is better to obtain a victory without fighting at all.

There are great people who know what they want even when they have nothing.
And there are people out of nowhere who don't know what they want, even when they have everything.

I reflect every morning on yesterday. What did I lose sight of? Why did this happen, and not otherwise? What is the measure of the things I valued? Etc…

This is the process of true thinking: do not give up what you did yesterday, even if today becomes tomorrow. Realize this truth: nothing remains unchanged, or in the same state.

A catalyst for reflection could be this: what you see now you will never forget.

A star sets because it is no longer able to illuminate.
The universe prefers intensities in order to better understand its depths.

A crumbling castle is like a lost soul: you can't know why they both retreat into oblivion, but you can feel the deep meaning of their solidarity.

Surrealism is the freedom of expression that the creator gives himself, although it is on the border between the inner world and the outer world, it cannot be marked exactly, but it seems so real. It's truly real if you start seeing it as imaginary. (Ioana Sarah)

The brush and the pen come to life in a room inhabited by a man who is always unhappy to the point of confusion, everything that the creator shows on the outside is like writing an epistle. Whoever creates something is like paying for his own pleasure. And the ink with which someone writes and the colors of one who paints are a kind of balance, otherwise the seasons would be hard to bear. (Ioana Sarah)

A cold hand is like a theatrical performance. Sometimes the pen is powerless and sad, as if projecting the sky when the clouds are gathered and it is going to rain. And the brush is like a faint postcard in which women's voices are heard. The hand is a terrible impatience that for the creator, if he didn't have it, would be the smallest thing… it would be like a letter sent on Saturday when people are not at work… (Ioana Sarah)

Some people understood that 2 + 2 = 4. But they did not understand why, first of all, it was 1 + 1 = 2. And they didn't understand the rest of the math behind physics and chemistry.

Some people understand a lot and don't feel as much, some know from math that there are only 4 seasons and they invent the fifth one in an autumn when the sun's rays draw shadows on the walls through the leaves that do not come off the branches so easily, some bloom frozen as a demonstration against a law of physics about gravitational attraction. Last but not least, some people understand chemistry from words and pass it on in feelings, feelings that mathematics does not talk about. (Ioana Sarah)

The pen when it starts to leave marks on the paper has a special clarity. It builds everything with the care of one who carves wood, framing in mystical connections special letters that lead to the birth of words, then shines through objectivity. While the brush is like an exterior author, it has a liking, if I may say so, for colors. Both the pen and the brush thus combine everything that a creator can give, as if he were an aesthetic reality taken to the absolute, as if he were a sky full of clouds waiting to rain.

The artist, however, has his clumsiness, whether he expresses himself with the help of a brush or pen, he expresses himself through subjectivity, he possesses everything with romance, he discerns the obscurities of the soul, ascending through creation somewhere above them. He is a contemplative and always has a fear, whether or not existence must be rendered with a critical sense. (Ioana Sarah)

Whether we use the pen or the brush, the artist's temperament manifests itself in an appropriate plan, thus being caught romantic or enthusiastic, rudimentary or utopian, always serious, depending on the times he experiences. The artist driven by a real and generous attitude, turning work into an ideal. Everything acquires an immense significance; he uses the spirit of discernment by establishing a graduation of the events that thus become values. The one who creates with a pen or brush does a job as if he were building. From his work all sorts of teachings unfold one by one. He becomes a master, with a remarkable finesse of symbol. The present becomes too small as if one were seeking refuge in the past…

The creator is put in a position to think seriously about all the hardships of life, thus seeking answers with serious solemnity. Sensitivity exists in a way that forces you to react to all of this from the outside. (Ioana Sarah)