Thursday, June 5, 2008



Love qoutes


Claddagh

An Irish Claddagh
"Friendship, Love, Loyalty"
"Cupid and Psyche"
Atrist: Gérard, François Pascal Simon
Oil on Canvas

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

The Orange
Artist: Sally Rosenbaum
Oil on Canvas
Best Friends
Artist: Lorraine Gray

Sunday, June 1, 2008

Nighthawlks
By: Edward Hopper
Oil on Canvas
Tenderness
Artist: Unkown

Alley By The Lake
By: Leonid Afremov

Friday, May 30, 2008

Friday, May 23, 2008

Madonna with Christ and St. John the Baptist
Artist: Raphael

Narrative number three

My Best Friend


When I was younger, I had this best friend. It was a boy, and he had long, soft brown and beige fur. His name was Benny and he was my dog. He was rowdy, playful, sweet, and protective. He went with me everywhere. When I woke up in the morning, he was right there waiting for me at the bottom of the bed. When I would go to get up, he would jump on me and lick my face, letting me know that he was ready for another fun filled day.
I got him when I turned four. He came out with a red bow on his collar. Right then, we became best friends.
Our favorite times we had together were during the summer. I lived right down the street from a beach, so we went their basically everyday. We would pack a lunch which was two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and two apple juice boxes, which I had to help Benny out with that part.
We always went to the same spot. It was towards the middle of the beach, right next to the shore. The first thing we always did when we got there was we played Frisbee. After a little while of that, we would go for a swim and have water fights. Then finally we would go and relax in the sand and have our lunch. We would also build sand castles. Benny always knocked them over, but I didn’t mind because he was trying to help.
After our long day of playing, we would watch the sunset and the waves. The wet sand would stick to our skin and we would feel the cool, smooth rush of the waves coming to shore. The wind would blow the slaty sea tatse around in the air, making my mouth water. As the water would come to shore more and more, seashells would start to appear. They were all different sizes and textures. I loved collecting the smooth, rounded-edge pearl-colored shells. When I found them I would place them inot my red pail that I would bring with me. Benny would sit and watch me, every once in a while taking a drink of the salty sea water.
Even when I got older, I would still take him down to the beach to play some frisbee. We didn't go as often, but whenever I had time out of my busy schedule with friends, school, and later on work, we would go down.
Later on, Benny also became best friends with my children. He would run around the huge backyard we had with the kids. They adored him just as much as I did. Even though Benny was getting old, he tried to be the same hyper, active, and loving pup.
But slowly, Benny got less and less active and hyper. He would then just sit around all day, and would just like to sit with you and be petted.
Then one day, Benny left. He just got too old and tired. I wasn't surprised because I knew it was going to happen soon, but I still cried my eyes out. I was a grown man, and yes, I still cried. I just thought about all of the good times we had when I was younger, and all of the adventures my kids got to have with him too.
I still remember the first day I met Benny. He was my first best friend. And I loved him.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Monday, April 14, 2008

Paradox Poem

Liz

I like to be neat, but I'm sometimes messy.
Maybe that's why my grades aren't the absolute best, even though I really want them to be.
They used to be, but used to be is not now.
But now,
I'm a morning person, even though I dread waking up early for school.
I'm now single and like it, even though I do like relationships.
I want to be thin,
But I'm not.
I love being with my friends, but I also like to be alone.
I want to grow up, but I also want to stay young forever.
I'm Liz and this is me and I like it.
The one thing for sure I don't need to contrast in myself.
Grandmother reading to her grand-kids

Wedding Day






The day, the weather, the time, the setting, the look, the aroma of the air; everything was perfect for our wedding day which was on Saturday May 12, 2007. The day that we committed the rest of our lives to each other was just how I imagined it. We had it in my mother’s backyard. I know it sounds a little cliché to have a backyard wedding, but it’s the first place that came to our minds. The reason is, it’s the place where he had asked me to be his girlfriend, and then later on to be his wife. It was also the place that we met. He was my cousin’s best friend. It was a family cookout and my cousin had brought him along. We clicked from the first moment we talked and the click never left.
So, that’s how we came up with having it in my mother’s backyard. The backyard is huge, about three acres, so there was plenty of room to have it. My mother always had it nice and landscaped perfectly so everything was just beautiful. The grass was a deep green. It was soft and plushy that you could just lie down and feel like you have a blanket underneath you. The Dogwood trees were big and bloomed with big pink flowers, making the air have a pleasant perfume smell. My mother just so happened to have a big, white gazebo under two of the trees. That’s where we had said our vows. I loved that gazebo. There were so many memories of just sitting there on those long summer nights and gazing up at the stars. We had professional decorators come in. They laid down a long white silk carpet like aisle leading up to the gazebo. Along with that, they brought in about 300 high quality white folding chairs for the guests. They had deep red seat cushions so the guests would be more comfortable. Before the white silk aisle, they had put a archway entering into it. It was made out of that wood fence but it was white. They had intertwined vines and red roses all around the arch.

My entering was picture perfect. We of course had the flower girl and the brides maids and the grooms men. I had six bridesmaids and my maid of honor was my younger sister. She was 18. I was 25. The bridesmaid dresses were deep red and rich looking, like roses in a rose garden. They were halter top style and came down to about their ankles. Simple but yet elegant. The grooms men wore the traditional black tux but with red underneath to match with the bridesmaids. My dress was exactly like my dream dress. It was white and a nice sheen material. It went all the way down to my feet and was very long down the back. It was also halter cut. I had my hair done in a nice curly bun and wore a diamon tiara with a viel on the back of it. Of course my husband wore a black tux with white underneath. Just everything about enetering was amazing.

I have never been happier in my life when it came time to say my vows. When he took my hand and we looked into each other's eyes, everything just stopped. His hands were clean, but they had a rough touch to them because he was a consruction worker. His nails were as short as could be. Even though his hands were rough, they still had a soft touch to them. I wondered if he thought about my touch as I held his hand with my french manicured nails. I just knew as we stood saying our vows, our love poured out while in that moment of holding hands. This was just the beginning of our journey of love together for the rest of our lives.

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

"The Virgin of Paris", Notre Dame, Paris

I remember when my mom would hold my little brother when he was a toddler. How small he was and how I wish that I was that small again so I could curl up into her arms and feel her warmth and love like he got to experience now. She would hold him in one arm and have him resting on her hip, while she would go and do all of her daily routines. She would never put him down. I always offered to take him from her, but she would just give a simple “I’m fine.” So, I let it be. I realized that it was a mother’s nature, and somewhat a chore, to carry around their bundle of joy and love around with them, even if they were doing other things. Sometimes, I would just catch myself, observing their reactions towards each other and the burst of love that anyone could just feel between them.
I continue to watch their reactions with each other throughout the day and, when my brother pulls her hair, she does not get frustrated or yell at him. She will just look at him and smile because she knows that he is only playing around and not meaning to be fresh. Then, my brother will go on and babble with emotions as no one understands him, but his mother. She will respond with an “Oh really?” or a “Yeah I know!” I can’t help but laugh at this because I don’t understand, but they understand each other and that’s all that really matters.
A mother’s love for their child is like no other kind of love. It’s just pure and real. There are no questions about it. Nor is there an explanation for it. I have asked my mom time and time again about a mother’s love for her children and she will stand there for a moment and just respond with something along the lines of how there is no other kind of love. And how you can’t love anybody more than your children. Maybe this type of love can’t be explained until someone experiences it. It’s just something that you can not explain with observing.
So, love isn’t always just between a man and a women. As I learned and observe, it can be the simplest thing of between a mother and her treasured son.

Monday, February 25, 2008

"My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose." By Painter Don Berger.


This painting, by Don Berger, is titled “My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose.” Not only by the title, but by viewing the image, a viewer can tell and actually feel that it is about love.
Looking at the painting, the focal point is definitely the rose. Having the rose be the focal point, the content of this image is a symbol of love and how a rose relates to love. Also while viewing the painting, the viewer should interpret that the painting demonstrates how deep love can be and, due to the darker and lighter colors, shows that it has it’s dark moments, and it’s bright moments. In a few areas, there are different shades of red. On the rose, there are a few spots where the color is different because the darker areas imply the shadow of the upper petal. The value of light and dark just makes the rose stand out even more. Most of the pigment in the flower is red. The emphasis of the rose is more towards the center of rose. But over to the right there is a light spot that is also emphasized. The gradation of the rose is the middle center because it is shown that it is going to bloom even more which means a progression in love. Lastly, in the corners, the green acts as a field.
As if it may not seem so, a painting of a rose can show a great deal of love. People may ask, why is a rose a symbol of love? Well, it all depends on how one looks at it. Generally, it’s because one the rose is red and red is a color of love. Second, it’s because a rose is so rich and gentle and love is exactly like that. Another big question is, how did the rose even become a symbol of love?



Wednesday, February 6, 2008

First Picture




This painting, done by James Kern, is unique and known for types of paintings he does. He is a very unique painter. With this painting titled “Love” he uses different techniques to emphasize his emotion of love.
Looking at this painting, it’s obvious that the focal point is on the heart. The flames around it emphasize the heart and the feeling. Also, it is a movement to the picture, as the flames seem to continue to burn around it. Within the painting, there are a few main colors, but a whole range of tones with the pink in the heart and the orange in the flames. Also, along the edges of the flames, there are tints of deep blue and green to outline it. The blues and greens are also subtle to the painting, because the viewer has to look closely to the defined flames. By looking at the painting, one should interpret the meaning of deep true love.
A painting like this shows how strong and deep love can be and if your love for someone is extreme enough, love actually hurts or “burns” because it is such a great feeling. But, it always feels good and the love always continues.

Monday, February 4, 2008

Give me your opinion on which concept would be best.

Hey what's up?

Well i can't really choose on what concept I should do, but I have a few ideas.
Some of the ideas i have are:
  • Poetry
  • Photography
  • Love