Witnessing Rain

This is a small piece of pure spontaneity. There’s no rhyme, no alliteration. It’s just a couple of verses that came out when I was chilling at the balcony, watching the rain. Things like this resonate with me more than the poems with rhymes and refrains. What about you?

Photo by Anna King. Source: unsplash.com

It’s raining outside. In phases.

Fast? Slow? It’s a rhythm I can’t tap to.

It smells nice. Like gentle familiar novelty.

Smell with my eyes. I smell colour.

Like colour on a fresh painting.

It’s preaching into the air.

It sounds like love.

If there is silence in between, that’s all I feel.

My arms are feeling the drops that I only see.

I’m under construction, a puzzle.

Oh, Lord, your creation is in awe of itself.

Hope you enjoyed this. Thank you so much for reading and have a blast just existing!

Explosion

‘Every work of art is an explosion of a lifetime of creative thoughts that passes through the mind of an artist’ – Stefan 🙂

For many years I’ve felt that our fascination for many things is very much connected to our inability to explain our object of fascination. It is not the factual information we know that raises our fascination but what we don’t know.

Every song, every book, every blog post, every word you say is influenced by the information you have collected from your birth to that moment in your life. Every creation is a result of millions of thoughts of a unique person and thus, a unique way of thinking.

When you look at the Mona Lisa, you see the result of the millions of thoughts that passed through the mind of the great Leonardo Da Vinci in the many years he spent before that canvas. And you immediately question why he painted it. You look for an answer in the canvas before you. An answer for a question that is explained completely only by the millions of thoughts that passed through the complicated mind of the famous painter.

The ‘what’ question is not the signature of human fascination. It is merely a bridge to the first question that sparks research – the ‘why’

When you see art, it is like standing in the middle of an explosion of millions of creative thoughts that could have passed through the mind of an artist. An explosion sparked by a question of ‘why’ it’s there, why the artist made it the way it is. You only see a few fragments during the explosion, parts of the painting or the song that clicks with you. Different people see different fragments of the creativity of the artist and we all form our own opinions and conclusions.

We are all great artists in the sense that we all feel a very similar level of emotion when we are creating something new. The difference lies in how well we are able to take the person witnessing our work of art, to the level of emotion we were at, when we were creating the art. There is the art that talks of great complex things, philosophy and ideology, and then there is the art that talks of simple things, everyday things that we all know of. But both find place in the museum.

It’s not just about what you speak but how you convey it.

Songs, poems, paintings and novels are all explosions of somebody’s creative thoughts that evolved through a lifetime of thinking. Many strings of thought, forced into a small canvas or a 3 minute song. Kinda like taking all the water on the earth and filling it into a balloon

This is why successful people are often people who’ve been denied and rejected many times. The time they spend, sticking to what they do, one day, becomes really explosive. Their strings of thought and experience become so long, they cannot be forced into a few words or a few strokes of paint. But when they do, they are explosive. You can’t figure it all out. There’s no cliché when you read a really explosive story. You just can’t predict what happens next. You have no idea of what’s going on!

Why?

Because there is a lot of input that went into it. A lot of detail, detail that makes it more real to you.

What is your passion? What do you have in abundance? What is that hidden talent?

Bring it on! Put everything you know out there. Use every ounce of resource you have. And then force it into as small a package as you can. Make it into a blog post, a painting, a song. Make it explosive.

Why did Da Vinci spend 12 years of his life before the Mona Lisa?

He was bringing in all he knew, he was trying to put in all those millions of creative thoughts and ideas into that one canvas that would change history. He was creating something explosive. He was creating a ‘masterpiece’!

It’s all about an endless space of remarkable potential, a blank space. It’s all about filling it with who you are and what you know.

Every work of art is an explosion. Some are small and some are big, but behind every work of art, there is a very similar excitement. It’s all about bringing that out. It takes time and in time, that explosion of words and that explosion of colour, grows into something magnificent, something that changes history.

Let’s all work on our small explosions. Let’s stick to it and make it something wonderful!

God bless!

What do you think about ‘explosion’ ?

Comment. Share. Be a part of the movement! 🙂

Music is Everywhere!

Hey guys,

Today I am going to attempt to share with you how I see music in the surroundings around me. I hope you like it.

The sun just came out. It’s morning!

I slide out of bed on to the floor and just lie there looking at the blades of the fan on the ceiling as they cut through air. The sun fills my room with a yellow light. A flickering shadow appears on the ceiling above my fan as it’s blades cut through the light. I smile. I lie down there and say my prayers. ‘Good morning, God. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?’ He smiles down at me.

I look at the ceiling again. The light from the sun is more of a brighter yellow now. As it flickers on the ceiling, I see a silent beat. The fan’s blades swish through the air like the drum sticks in the hands of a drummer.

I smile. Welcome to my new song, ladies and gentlemen. So glad you could drop by. I jump into action. I moonwalk into the bathroom, brush my teeth dancing, put on some clothes and grab my guitar. The silent beat I saw, playing in my mind.

I go into the kitchen, give my mom a hug, say hi to my dad and open the front door. It squeaks. Like a synthesizer.

Now to get my bassline.

I go to the lift. It’s at floor 8. I press the button. The lift comes down one floor at a time. It stops at 5, then resumes it’s descent to my floor. I follow it’s progress in the language of  music. Silent music. I hear a ping as the lift opens. Bassline?

I get in and I start ascending. I am heading for the top. On the way, I hear a baby cry. Hmm. Shorten the time period, increase the pitch and you get a classic Michael Jackson. My song starts to feel like an old 80s song.

Anyway.

I get to the terrace. I make clap sounds as I climb up the stairs to the terrace.

I am out in the open now. The wind hits me with a gentle nudge. I hear it pass through small cracks here and there. There’s a flute in the house!

I sit down and put my fingers to the guitar. I tap on it and give sound to my silent beat. My fingers now slide up the fret board, a little pressure here, a little pressure there. My fingers pluck on the strings. They come to life. The yellow morning sun makes a colourful reflection on my guitar.

I imagine myself in front of millions of people, like all amateur musicians out there ( I am pretty amateur ). The chorus comes in and I hear a choir as the wind gets faster. I smile. An electric guitar kicks on somewhere in my mind. A slow lead line follows. The clouds now move slowly. We end our first song with a crescendo.

I smile, thank God for the day. Now to get some breakfast. I’m starving!

What music do you see in your surroundings?

Comment. Share. Be a part of the movement!

 

 

The song of the rain

For those of you guys who know me and read my blog posts( I am extremely grateful to you for your interest, time and feedback), you know how I am greatly inspired by rain and sunlight. One of my favourite hobbies is just sitting in front of my window looking out into the rain, my head resting on my palms and making up lines of poetry, not necessarily with rhyme schemes and alliteration, but just filled with what I love.

Today as I was reading some blogs, I heard a tug on my door. I looked outside and the trees were bending so hard, I thought they were going to break. I live in a flat. This means the only sounds I hear are the soft strokes of the heavy wind on my window and the small rain drops sky diving onto its glass.

I used to live in a house before where I could hear the pouring rain on the roof and the wind was more noisy. Here in the flat, I hear only the softest sounds as the roof is much higher above me. This thought absolutely inspired me and I am going to do something new today. I am just going to sit down and write the verses that come to my head, whatever they may be. This is an example of my ‘a day(rainy) in the life’. This is for all you poets out there. Please tell me what you think. I would absolutely love to hear from you!

I sit in front of the window, my head on my palms. My fingers lightly rub my cheek in the excitement of what is outside. It is as if the heart of the earth is beating normal, but its blood is going fast, craving for the heart to somehow keep up.  For inside my room, the atmosphere is calm and gentle, but on the outside, where it really matters, everything is fast. It is a strange strangeness, a beautiful confusion.

I blink as a flash of lightning erupts in the sky, cutting the dark and bringing light. Seems very strange that from the very clouds that make it dark, a light would shine. God suddenly seems to whisper in my ear-‘Just as I make ‘everything’, even the hard and painful things in life work out for you for the better because you love me’. I smile and my eyes dart back to the rain.

The trees are now bowing, the branches like hairs on end. I get up and slowly and carefully open my window a few inches, air gushes in and sends the papers on my desk flying. They seem to be jumping up and down, happy! I stand and look. The door of my room slams shut and I am thrown back into reality. I shut the door and sit back again.

I hear the orchestra playing outside, like the ocean in a sea shell, somehow refined and coloured just for me. Now and then a drop hits my window creating a rhythm  so consistent, it baffles my senses of logic. I lie down and hear the wind outside. Here in my bed, inside my blanket, wrapped up in a cocoon, like a butterfly waiting to go out, into a world that will be brand new in a matter of minutes, I feel nothing but hear.

My eyelids start to droop, ever so slightly and the lightning outside wakes me up. My eyelids droop again, this time, the lightning is not heard. My brain stops worrying about the rain, but I still hear it somehow and then I lie there still, my mouth slightly open. Why do I always sleep with my mouth open??

The rain stops after a while. It slows it’s song down to a whisper then to a single drop. Very much like the tap of a pencil on a cymbal, dull but unique. The song of the rain is somehow strange. Instead of starting with a whisper and ending in a crescendo, it does the exact opposite. God is indeed a great artist. His song of the rain is my favourite yet.

 

If you like this, also check out an earlier post of mine very much like this and tell me if you want more posts like these. Hope you guys have a fantastic day and God bless!!!!

https://thefourthdimensionoflife.wordpress.com/2017/07/16/when-leaves-bow/

 

When leaves bow. . .

Today, I am going to talk to you from the eyes of a poet.

Do you like to sleep?

Oh yeah!!!!

You don’t know the number of times I’ve longed to get just 2 more minutes of sleep. At school I am the ‘sleepy guy’. Whenever I am learning something uninteresting, my mind starts to wander and before I know it, I am asleep, sitting.

Okay, that’s not the kind of sleep I like. That is what I call my ’embarrassing moment of the day’.

Coming back to the topic, I was in a similar situation learning something I felt so boring and my gaze shifted to the windows of my classroom. It was raining outside and as I looked at the drops of water that adorned the green clothing of the trees outside the pane of glass, I noticed something.

A tree was sleeping!

Scientifically speaking, the drops of water on the leaves had caused it to bow down like a person dropping into a peaceful sleep.

It was so wonderful that I praised God for that moment.

Many a time I have wondered why I felt sleepy when it rained outside.🤔

Was it the cold breeze that drifted into my room, making the curtains flutter and embrace me?

Was it the clean life outside making it look like the earth had been put into a washing machine?

Or was it the peace, the beauty that has put an exclamation mark in front of man for a long time?

Or was it the sleep of nature, the trees sleeping and the birds looking on in wonder as they cuddled their resting young ones under their wings that moved me to sleep?

Well, I will not answer that for you because I just don’t know what words will describe this beautiful phenomenon.

I would like to end this short post with one simple question we all can take some time to answer:

What makes you sleep when it’s raining outside?😉

 

 

 

The Third Person Watching.

Love movies?

Me too!!!

Today, I am going to give you movie lovers, something to think about.

Have you ever seen one of those movies where there has a been a misunderstanding and a relationship is broken because one of them made a mistake?

Remember how you kept hoping for them to come back together. Remember how you thought the person who messed it up deserved another chance? How you kept telling the other person to forgive.

Deja vu. Right?

Do you know why?

Because you were able to see that person in places and circumstances that the other characters in the movie( suppose they were real) were not able to. This made you much more sympathetic to that character. Much more sympathetic than the other characters in the movie. You had a better picture of what it would be like to be in their shoes.

So what?

Well, like Shakespeare did, let us imagine our life to be a movie, or a play. We get mad at many people. We all go through situations where we misunderstand people.

Are we going to think about what that third person would say? That person who knows the whole movie and every step along the way?

According to me that would be God.

I am a Christian and sometimes when I get angry at people I try to ask myself the question, “What would Jesus say?”.

We don’t know what it’s like to be in their shoes. Maybe we would look at them in a different way if we knew each and every part of the movie. It may not always be the reasonable thing to do. But one thing is true. If we would all ask ourselves that question, we may start a revolution of forgiveness and love.

We live in a world that is based on equations. A world where every reaction has an equal and opposite reaction. It always balances. But change occurs when we get a different result. When you forgive and accept somebody who has wronged you, an imbalance is created for the better. Something that makes them think and helps them to forgive somebody else.

So next time you have a chance, think of that third person.

And advertising your view helps to make a difference. When you do something remarkable for somebody you think doesn’t deserve it and others ask you,

” What are you doing, bro?” 

Tell them, “I’m thinking about the third person!!!!”