Tag Archives: my stuff

Creativity hour

Since I discovered PhotoshopLightroom/WacomBamboo/EnteredGriffindor I forgot what does it mean, to sleep at normal hours…

Well I’ve been always kind of late “late bird”: hating mornings, wishing everybody dies when the alarm clock rings. Usual stuff.

I would never.never.never believe those people who insist on the idea that a precious boost of creative energy happens in early hours of the day. ( a laughing troll’s face)

-“Wake up and smile, sunshine! Wakie–Wakie

It’s 6 am, take your pen and …Nobel Prize is in your pocket”

-Yeah right..  Excuse me I’m not Hemingway!

We’re  a “day-oriented” society, nothing would change that. I have to suffer all my life.

I only wish, that in my next life I would be upgraded to live an work at night!

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I never went to art school

Once my friend- philosopher shared couple of lines from his poems.
I interpreted them visually.

Translation: ” Nothing could measure a volume of love. We breath it in like oxygen

(The same phrase in two different styles)


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