Archivio tag: शांति

Società di Amianto

Viviamo in una società di amianto, siamo in preda al rumore, gli alberi bene prezioso non hanno più ossigeno alle radici, le api muoiono per strada, le coccinelle si estinguono come i cavallucci marini. Impero della mediocrazia sovrasta. Semplicemente semi di girasole, hanno una storia da raccontare. (Catania Visionaria)

mia catania visionaria oasi playa fantasia contemporanea sicily needs love respect planet museo dello spazio

After the time of carriages, a garden is born within the garden. A forest tells about itself. Each tree has a story, brings shade and refreshes. It regenerates oxygen. A square meter of wood becomes infinite space, and involuntarily connects rivers and oceans. Hope spring kisses seed statue. Prodigy is not artifice, a gathering of branches looks like arms, and they welcome the new day. The stranger meditates on how beautiful the dream is. Made in fantasy, as if by magic a gift tells poetry. Free from time, it enjoys the song of the wind, the nests of sparrows, the protection of Mother Nature.

Skonczyl sie czas powozów, w ogrodzie rodzi się ogród. Las opowiada sie sobie, każde drzewo ma swoją historię, przynosi cień i orzeźwia. Regeneruje tlen, metr kwadratowy lasu staje się nieskończoną przestrzenią, mimowolnie łączy rzeki i oceany. Zródło nadziei całuje posąg nasienia. Cudowne nie jest sztuczką, spotkanie gałęzi wydaje się być ramiona, witają nowy dzień. Nieznajomy rozmyśla o tym, jak piękny jest sen. Wykonany w fantazji, jak za dotknięciem czarodziejskiej różdżki, opowiadający poezję prezent. Wolny od czasu, cieszy się śpiewem wiatru, gniazdami wróbli, ochroną Matki Natury.

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Pasado el tiempo de los carruajes, nace un jardín dentro del jardín. Un bosque se cuenta a sí mismo, cada árbol tiene una historia, da sombra y refresca. Regenera oxígeno, un metro cuadrado de madera se convierte en espacio infinito, conecta involuntariamente ríos y océanos. La primavera de la esperanza besa la estatua de la semilla. El prodigio no es artificio, el encuentro de las ramas parecen brazos, dan la bienvenida al nuevo día. El extraño medita sobre lo hermoso que es el sueño. Realizado en fantasía, como por arte de magia de un don que cuenta poesía. Libre del tiempo, disfruta del canto del viento, de los nidos de los gorriones, de la protección de la Madre Naturaleza.

1mqdb ho incontrato una matrice gli ho dato un passaggio all'albero

comunicare con la natura ponte del domani girasoli statua semenza

Buona Domenica Mezzanine Living

Chiodi di Garofano e Tutto Passa. Ho incontrato una (@) matrice gli ho dato un passaggio all’albero. Un Suono Pervade Presenza. Ho sempre trovato anche un bottone che mi riguardasse. La mia ricchezza è la memoria, il sentimento nasce dal sentire, l’incoraggiamento è figlio del prevenire. Senza ricordi nessuna retta può proseguire. Comunicare con la natura ponte del domani.

passione casa spirituale home contemporary artist in sicily

arancione mezzanine living

Planet Responsibility

world needs love imprints of peace rimediare cuore del fanciullo

villa pacini 1mqdb catania visionaria memoria vegetale amenano fantasia contemporanea rispetto pianeta

ho pescato un legno è volato un pesce arte involontaria riposto mezzanine living

catania visionaria fiera orecchio del popolo via pacini formikepazze l'incognita dell'undici

catania visionaria 1mqdb memoria vegetale villa pacini archi della marina fantasia contemporanea (2)

Totò – Catania, Villa Pacini – Ho pescato un legno è volato un pesce (Riposto) – Via Pacini – Amenano. Le note sono respiro, Ezio Bosso. Testa appesantita, cuore pensieroso, giustizia e perdono sono ali della libertà. Cosa sta accadendo alle Nazioni? Sicilia, Etna, Terra di Vulcani, Isola non desidera contribuire in nome di qualsiasi causa che utilizza la democrazia come strumento di dittatura. Voli spaziali, tritato per alligatori, microchip nei gorilla, alimentazione geneticamente trattata. L’Ospedale Santa Marta è stato abbattuto. Scrive La Sicilia: Abbattuto il mostro del quartiere Santa Marta. Nuova proporzione svuota contenuto. Pace in Terra

1mqdb acque dell'etna si congiungono col mediterraneo fiume amenano via etnea catania visionaria

radici intercedono rispetto pianeta 1mqdb imprints of peace villa pacini catania visionaria fantasia contemporanea

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francesca franco catania visionaria questo è il mio sogno, dove mi trovo mezzanine living 22.02.2022

1mqdb filosofia rigenerativa contatto natura memoria vegetale catania visionaria imprints of peace progetto rimboschimento globale

catania visionaria fantasia contemporanea metropoli del melograno archi della marina villa pacini

catania visionaria villa pacini fantasia contemporanea sicily needs love villa pacini archi della marina (2)

catania visionaria fantasia contemporanea villa pacini madre acqua 1mqdb rispetto delle risorse democrazia dello spazio urbano

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mia villa pacini catania visionaria fantasia contemporanea archi della marina

1mqdb verde urbano primitivo acque dell'amenano catania visionaria ambasciata planetaria rispetto pianeta (2)

caserma carabinieri 1mqdb piazza giovanni verga rispetto pianeta catania visionaria

Caserma Carabinieri Piazza Giovanni Verga – Radici Intercedono, Rispetto Pianeta – Questo è il mio sogno … dove mi trovo (Francesca Franco 22.02.2022) – Filosofia Rigenerativa, Contatto Natura, Memoria Vegetale – Metropoli del Melograno, l’Incognita dell’Undici. (Mia)

Sicily island of the world

Sogno un messaggio partire da quest’isola, un racconto genuino che mette in moto l’anti declino, che mostri l’animo del buon vino. Immagino braccia alzate in cielo, ogni mano impugnare un cucchiaino, simbolo di nutrimento fin dalla più tenera età. Non c’è cultura che non conosca questo semplice oggetto, che possiede lo spirito di pace, che inoffensivo racconta, protegge, che sia pietra, legno o ferro. Un cucchiaino per svuotare il mondo da quella goccia di veleno, un cucchiaino per connettere il popolo, creare un ponte in cielo, lanciare ognuno la propria luce, comunicare con le stelle, ritrovare la propria, tornare ad appropriarsi di un dono che ci vede tutti esistere in nome della vita che verrà.

imprints of peace

The third flower

Sicily Fest May 17/18/19 – Boiler House, Brick Lane – Imprints of Peace London

Art matured in me even before I knew its name, or rather before it presented itself without a name. Art was the light that filled my eyes, the breath of awakening, the journeys in the midst of desolate lessons of occurrences and recurrences, it was the queue for breakfast, the plants, and animals. Art was prayer, fire, water and all the elements, art was the stars, the sun and all nature, it was being present in the total absence of an apparently present world. The artist I am inspired by, is the greatest Creator of heaven and earth, He is the Father of all fathers for how He presented Himself when I did not exist yet. He paints sunsets and dawns, and He shares them with us all. There is no man who does not know His face. He is humble, infinitely loving, and when I asked Him if it was Him, He replied, “Yes, it is I”. I dreamed that I was at the Bridge. The Bridge was a small estate of a Holy Family near Viagrande at the foot of Mount Etna, where as a child my grandparents and many friends gathered for the grape harvest. I remember the joy of picking the grapes immersed among the rose gardens, to press them with our bare feet among the grape pickers, I remember the shed with the fire burning and the many voices, on top of this small estate there was a small cave with the little Virgin Mary, to which I in the most innocent youth confided in my childhood prayers my worries and questions. The lady of the house was devoted to traditional cuisine. She used terracotta pots, and I still remember as if it were yesterday when she prepared a snack with her jams for after school. Every afternoon she took me to church to pray, the church was that of Monserrato, and even if I didn’t understand, I was well-behaved at her side. Now, after some time, I remember and I make connections again and again. In the dream that lasted a few infinite moments I found myself at the entrance by the cellar road. I was alone, I don’t remember what I was doing at that moment, but I will never forget the image of Him, or rather how He wanted to present himself to my eyes. He was not with regal clothes, indeed far from it. He was extremely peaceful and I found it hard to believe in the dream that the creator of everything could be so humble. I don’t remember Him uttering any revelation, because I felt that He was the revelation. I don’t remember any more words, and I don’t remember a content so infinitely powerful that it can fill any space. I asked Him if it was He, and He answered me “I am”. The dream is unforgettable, because He was infinitely humble. That dream is perhaps the key along with another dream that I will never forget. It is the key that makes me notice the small gestures, which makes me rejoice in the small things, which makes me see in a flame the soul of life, which makes me enjoy the little things, because only through small things can a great future be built. The little things, are the love that we risk losing for each other, it is the cry that comes out of me spontaneously, not knowing what I write. When I go out I feel love for everyone and everything. I would like to give love, this is the most ancient form of art. Art is Love, it is a testimony of pain for a world that moment by moment is moving away from small things, from loving each other. This is what my works scream; they cry out ceaselessly because we are all one. Even when I try to distract myself, even when I mix sugar with my miserable coffee every morning, I think of how many children still feed with their blood the insatiable abysses of the unscrupulous ignorant, how many families today still have to find themselves fighting to protect their history. How much ignorance continues to alienate families, children, fathers, from each other, to steal childhoods, to speculate on the good by selling poison? We are all Artists, beauty will save the world, the beauty of when every single being on this planet will return to communicate, communicate in the crisis, how much need there is for love. Father, your son always.

Spiritual Connection Catania Iceland

Rangárþing eystra – Þingvellir National Park – Grindavík – Reynisfjara

Painting Imprints Hallgrímskirkja World needs love Palazzo della Cultura Catania

Painting Imprints Hallgrímskirkja World needs love Palazzo della Cultura Catania

Pensieri di un quadernetto.

Ragazzo uscita metro, esce dando un buongiorno a tutti.

Painting Imprints Give Space Palazzo della Cultura Catania

Painting Imprints Give Space Palazzo della Cultura Catania

Ragazzo raccoglie del pane da terra, mettendolo nella giusta luce.

Painting Imprints Datemi Spazio Palazzo della Cultura Catania

Painting Imprints Datemi Spazio Palazzo della Cultura Catania

Pensiero di un cane: negli odori trovo le mie letture.