Inspiration is a very enchanting element of life and a necessity in mine. It breezes through my being as my legs take off in the morning hours and allures me during the quiet evenings as I gaze into the heavens. It makes an ethereal scene as I climb the highest mountain and hushes me like a baby's lullaby as I give attention to an elegant array of notes that weave together in a symphony of song. The delicate patter of rain on my windows romanticises my thoughts and beckons me to a shelf that is home to my favorite writings. And then there is the magic that fills me with raw emotion when I take in the sight of a mesmeric vision of art. Something magnificent made by the hands of another. There is almost nothing I love more than walking through room after quiet room, filled with these seemingly unearthly pieces. There have been times when I have been silenced in reverent respect as I stare at an image that I am certain must have been designed by immortal hands. I imagine its beginnings as just a simple, clean and crisp white canvas. I wonder what moves the hand that mirrored it, taking up the wooden stem and dipping the soft bristles in to rich color to create a dreamy landscape that intoxicates me. My mind can't help but wonder if the emotion that inspires most artists is that of love. Whatever kind of love it is, I believe it is what inspirits most people to do what they do. Love is the most powerful and provoking emotion one can have.
I have a very talented friend who recently revealed his masterpieces on the glorious world wide web of boundless information. As I gazed upon each one, I felt a glimpse of what must have inspired him to take notice and capture the organic beauty he saw. Graceful arches and masculine lines magically bent together to create the perfect landscape against the elements that haloed above, illuminating heavenly hues of blue and gold. Colorful and dancing images of city life entertained me, click after pink-painted click. Arrays of animation opened my steel blues as wide as wide can be! Metal and glass captured many moments of my time as I found myself intrigued by the intelligent minds behind the manufactured models. My eyes played blissfully with patterned floors and bubbled glass. A crescendo ending was my forecast but then the images changed from majestic, man-made creations to something that completely contrasted my previous views. My heart swelled heavy with emotion as I looked upon something that quieted my imagination, softly speaking to my soul. The broken and forgotten. These were my favorites. Abandoned buildings and blown over signs. Fragments of cement among neglected desert brush. And last, but never least, a single tree with limbs that looked saddened by the lack of a little boy in a tiny red jumper, drawn up over an apple green tee who once paid him a daily visit. PS- Every tree is a Giving Tree...
We all receive and discover daily doses of inspiration differently. What one sees as wonderful and amazing, another might look right past. The day I clicked on these images, I had my very own Slumdog moment and remembered something I had forgotten but has been imbedded in me since my youth. That something is too personal to reveal...even for an unabashed (although sometimes shy in person) soul like me, but I am thankful for my friend's talent that lent me those few sacred moments that made a significant impression on me that day.
I have no idea if my dear friend behind the lens is a spiritual or religious man. But this much I can say. Whether he recognizes this or not, he has a very Christlike eye. Anyone who can see and capture the beauty in the broken and forgotten must have one. It is a gift that I admire most in a others. It is a sign of humility and pure kindness. I am thankful for the inspiration that I have gained from the artwork he displays. It also reminded me of the One who's life has inspired me to look for opportunities to offer an unforgetful eye to the broken. I invite you to visit my friend, B Lawrence Lowe's work and fall in love with it as I have. And don't forget to look for my favorites, the Broken but never Forgotten.
Click like, please invite, and do, do, do share to your heart's content!
Obviously this dedicated to my friend, B Lawrence Lowe and his brilliant talent displayed on Las Vegas Boulevard.
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