Title: The BallerinaMedium: Acrylic on Canvas
Size: 8 x 11 inches
Artist: betsisanders 09
The ballerina is feeling anxious, nervous, excited about her performance. By spending time alone, separate from the other girls,who may be as anxious as and more nervous than she is. These few minutes are probably spent on reviewing and practicing her steps,silently praying that she doesn't make a mistake or is probably, thanking God for the opportunity to express herself through dance, make an identity for herself, show others what she is capable of, reveal an important part of herself, the ballerina, the dancer, the performer, the artist. She may not be the prima ballerina, or the lead performer, or the best among all of the performers, but she is good, good enough. "Never think that you are not good enough. Always do your best. If it's not good enough for others, it is good enough for your Mom." That's what my mother used to say. She said, 'who cares?' quite emphatically. Just do your best!
********
Creating art requires patience and waiting. New painters are so impatient. They are anxious to get to the finished painting. One must take time and let time dry each layer of paint before adding the next layers. It is in the stillness, the waiting, the quiet time well spent that creates beautiful art
********
Vincent Van Gogh created works of art but was not appreciated by his peers. He probably never dreamed that his art will ever be world renowned. He took his own life because he failed to see how beautiful he was. He is like a butterfy, who never knows how beautiful its wings are. It is only through the eyes, other people's
eyes, that its wings are seen and appreciated.
Starry starry night... a favorite song from way back :}
Starry, starry night. Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.
Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...
>>>>>
The ballerina,the painter,both artists, even as great as Vincent, should always see their own beauty, their self worth. They are loved, lovable, wanted, needed, protected and accepted. I try to do my best. If it isn't good enough for everyone or any one, it is good enough for me! ;]
(betsisanders 09 / past midnight Dec 17)
eyes, that its wings are seen and appreciated.
Starry starry night... a favorite song from way back :}
Starry, starry night. Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.
For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.
Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...
>>>>>
The ballerina,the painter,both artists, even as great as Vincent, should always see their own beauty, their self worth. They are loved, lovable, wanted, needed, protected and accepted. I try to do my best. If it isn't good enough for everyone or any one, it is good enough for me! ;]
(betsisanders 09 / past midnight Dec 17)
