The ability to create something wonderful and engaging out of piratically nothing at all. Real masters could turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse. True artistry comes from the soul, not a class room.
It makes the kid come out of you. It makes you remember that you haven’t really grown up; you just grew up in height and learned too much about manners.
artistry
art art art
the pouring out of my soul and thoughts
the depth of my person in a few words or colors
an idea I cherish, that I have spent hours thinking over, years learning more about, defining and absorbing, put into a few sentences on the paper before me or in a picture that speaks more than a thousand words
The artist focused on only the painting. Only he and his easel existed at that moment. One distraction, one look away would destroy everything. So he would never stop the paintbrush’s journey, no matter what.
The once was an artist who lived an a small cramped apartment. Frank was an oil painter. He had recently just sold his last canvas. Unfortuantely, that canvas had only sold for about five dollars.
The artistry on display in her basement was amazing. To think the little demon actually had some talent. She was glad she didn’t discourage him when he asked to convert the corner to a studio.
I look at the world and I try to think about the artistry in it. For example, clouds, the way they move and are positioned, the way we cannot sit on them nor grasp them, yet they are there.
You’ve said on several occasions that you don’t think you’re artistic. I would have to disagree. The fluidity of your movement, the timbre of your voice…all are done with a natural artistry that you won’t find on canvas or in the notes of music.
He wielded the knife with panache, craving out a name for himself. In his mind his work was pure artistry; it was the bloody bodies that he left in his wake that were his signature.
no artistry compares to writing. it is not simple and concrete like crafting, working with wood or wool. it is not messy, like working with paint or charcoal. it is a dedication of time. it is leaving a dripping faucet over a brick and hoping to carve a bowl… or anything of use.
perfection and perfection and perfection, in short, what cannot be described, what cannot be criticized, most of all what can never be understood because to understood would be too reduce the artist must essentially have no understanding of her art because to understand is to intend, to intend is to mar and to distort. impossibility is impossible and flow and perception and perfection are subjective and objectively perfect and irreproachable when freedom is conveyed through shape color texture. artist is free, artistry is freedom liberty paintbrush brushstrokes beauty.
magical illusions of architecture. brilliant artisans of the past pawning their wares in dirty markets. creation all souls seek what no i do not know how it is why see their be understand
i saw this chair once. in it waas carvedapples and flowers, the most eautiful little humming birds. i couldn’t help but daydream about my trip to georgia last summer. the missions trip our team went on changged my lii’ll never forget them. they left as perminant a mark as the carpenter left in that wooden chair. wish i could thank them again. i wish i could express to them all they had done for me…. i wish i could pay them back…. but tha’s impossible.
theres lot of artistry in the world. like painting and poetry and dancing and music. real artistry is going to shit because of the materialistic outlook of the world. it’s crazy because art is the best part of our world and the best way to show our individuality, yet real artistry is getting wiped out of american culture because we’re just SO GOD DAMNED SHALLOW AND STUFF.
The artistry amazed her. Of course she had all the tutors one could imagine, but nobody could learn a thing like this. It had to be pure talent. She walked closer to the sculpture, her eyes widening. “Is this me?” she asked, flattered and a little bit scared at the same time. Why would this creature have a likeness of her in his home?
artistry is about an artist and is the art of art basicaly, an artist can try to imagine any soirt of picture and write it down on paper. I just pressed the back arrow after trying to submit and it reset my time! how cool is that! anyways artistry is hard to explain its just one of those things where you know it but cant transfer it to words.
my artistry on the new me will not be poor
it will take years
but i will become who i want and believe i can be
i have to search through the rubble to find myself
but the good aspects are worth the search
and when i do i will find my other half
from there, i dare not guess
for only the future knows
The artistry exhibited at the show was over the top. She had never seen so much work generated by the simple word “green.” There were displays of every sort, and paintings that featured greenness of such depth she felt she could walk into them and never find her way back out.
His artistry becomes him. “Hold still,” he says to me. I roll my eyes and hold up my chin, keeping his rose close to my cheek.
He told me once, “I’m an artist, too.” I remember laughing and asking how:
“The way you fall into my arms, the soft and shallow breaths you take when I kiss your neck… the way your fingers ghost mine, the movement of your lips as you tell me you love me… your artistry is love.”
He wanted to paint that love and make it immortal.
Artistry…is a tough, amazing, in-your-face, compelling talent. it drives and bubbles to be expressed. we all have the terrible urge to express but may lack the intrinsic gift by which to let it out and free
The artistry of the beautifully woven blanket hung in the museum case.
It caught the boy’s eye, and lured him to it as a magnet to metal.
“What a masterpiece…”He breathed, staring in awe wonder at the work of art.
What? “Artistry.” A word reserved for pompous, pretentious wannabe high-class people who attempt to make themselves seem more professional and elegant. No, you do not display artistry in everyday life. You can exemplify creativity or see patterns around you, but artistry is for those condescending people who have tea and finger sandwiches alone on the patio in the afternoon.
My aunt always made it a hobby of hers to make arts-and-crafts a hobby of mine. I would sit and watch her doodle and glue, create and design. Amazed, I became her protegee and set forth to bring my own form of artistry to the world. Artistry is you. Where you have been, what you have seen, and most importantly – how you express who you’ve become.
artistry. I like to think that im an artist. I enjoy art. is artistry the art of art making. ooooh thats kinds of fancy. art is fun. shit am i being timed. how much time do i have left? what am i even doing? this is the longest minute ever! holy shit! whan can I stop is it going to make me write forever?? I have things to do! do i scroll down and stop….oops I think I’m suppose to be timing myself…haha
Artistry means the true thought that goes into anything. Architecture, murals, drawings. The artistry of my friends Luisa and Isabel is truly amazing. Their detailed eye makes their work so much better.
I have no idea what this word means, but it’s petty good. People probably make good looking things, and make happy things, and other people probably really enjoy it. But I just don’t really understand it. I’m not artistic, I am, but not in visual, in mental ways. Its pretty cool to think how different we all are.
Would that I had any artistry left in me. I feel it’s been stagnant since I’ve been so happy for so long. And now, alone in the world and free to be consumed with longing for any one thing, I can feel it coming back.
The ability to create something wonderful and engaging out of piratically nothing at all. Real masters could turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse. True artistry comes from the soul, not a class room.
It makes the kid come out of you. It makes you remember that you haven’t really grown up; you just grew up in height and learned too much about manners.
artistry
art art art
the pouring out of my soul and thoughts
the depth of my person in a few words or colors
an idea I cherish, that I have spent hours thinking over, years learning more about, defining and absorbing, put into a few sentences on the paper before me or in a picture that speaks more than a thousand words
The artist focused on only the painting. Only he and his easel existed at that moment. One distraction, one look away would destroy everything. So he would never stop the paintbrush’s journey, no matter what.
The once was an artist who lived an a small cramped apartment. Frank was an oil painter. He had recently just sold his last canvas. Unfortuantely, that canvas had only sold for about five dollars.
The artistry on display in her basement was amazing. To think the little demon actually had some talent. She was glad she didn’t discourage him when he asked to convert the corner to a studio.
there is so much artistry inside the vegetable patch just the way nature areanges it self with all the colors and forms shapes and wonders .
I look at the world and I try to think about the artistry in it. For example, clouds, the way they move and are positioned, the way we cannot sit on them nor grasp them, yet they are there.
You’ve said on several occasions that you don’t think you’re artistic. I would have to disagree. The fluidity of your movement, the timbre of your voice…all are done with a natural artistry that you won’t find on canvas or in the notes of music.
He wielded the knife with panache, craving out a name for himself. In his mind his work was pure artistry; it was the bloody bodies that he left in his wake that were his signature.
however fascinating you
may be,
your form
was too nebulous
to define.
no artistry compares to writing. it is not simple and concrete like crafting, working with wood or wool. it is not messy, like working with paint or charcoal. it is a dedication of time. it is leaving a dripping faucet over a brick and hoping to carve a bowl… or anything of use.
perfection and perfection and perfection, in short, what cannot be described, what cannot be criticized, most of all what can never be understood because to understood would be too reduce the artist must essentially have no understanding of her art because to understand is to intend, to intend is to mar and to distort. impossibility is impossible and flow and perception and perfection are subjective and objectively perfect and irreproachable when freedom is conveyed through shape color texture. artist is free, artistry is freedom liberty paintbrush brushstrokes beauty.
magical illusions of architecture. brilliant artisans of the past pawning their wares in dirty markets. creation all souls seek what no i do not know how it is why see their be understand
that’s what I need to be
i saw this chair once. in it waas carvedapples and flowers, the most eautiful little humming birds. i couldn’t help but daydream about my trip to georgia last summer. the missions trip our team went on changged my lii’ll never forget them. they left as perminant a mark as the carpenter left in that wooden chair. wish i could thank them again. i wish i could express to them all they had done for me…. i wish i could pay them back…. but tha’s impossible.
i am not an artist.
what’s artistry? is it like… the art of being an artist? this word means nothing to me, it just describes everything i’m not. that’s all i can say
theres lot of artistry in the world. like painting and poetry and dancing and music. real artistry is going to shit because of the materialistic outlook of the world. it’s crazy because art is the best part of our world and the best way to show our individuality, yet real artistry is getting wiped out of american culture because we’re just SO GOD DAMNED SHALLOW AND STUFF.
The golden thrown of the king was known for its beauty and artistry. It had four golden posts, one on each side, and it was the envy of the kingdom.
I have realized
real eyes
are not surprised by
the lack of light at tunnel’s end.
a mended mind
might find amends
when one minds light’s longer lengths.
by night, fright is not wrought in danger,
but in unknown tones and timbres.
Art cannot be defined, it is only lived. An artist knows how to share their view of the world and all artists are unique.
The artistry amazed her. Of course she had all the tutors one could imagine, but nobody could learn a thing like this. It had to be pure talent. She walked closer to the sculpture, her eyes widening. “Is this me?” she asked, flattered and a little bit scared at the same time. Why would this creature have a likeness of her in his home?
artistry is about an artist and is the art of art basicaly, an artist can try to imagine any soirt of picture and write it down on paper. I just pressed the back arrow after trying to submit and it reset my time! how cool is that! anyways artistry is hard to explain its just one of those things where you know it but cant transfer it to words.
my artistry on the new me will not be poor
it will take years
but i will become who i want and believe i can be
i have to search through the rubble to find myself
but the good aspects are worth the search
and when i do i will find my other half
from there, i dare not guess
for only the future knows
The artistry exhibited at the show was over the top. She had never seen so much work generated by the simple word “green.” There were displays of every sort, and paintings that featured greenness of such depth she felt she could walk into them and never find her way back out.
His artistry becomes him. “Hold still,” he says to me. I roll my eyes and hold up my chin, keeping his rose close to my cheek.
He told me once, “I’m an artist, too.” I remember laughing and asking how:
“The way you fall into my arms, the soft and shallow breaths you take when I kiss your neck… the way your fingers ghost mine, the movement of your lips as you tell me you love me… your artistry is love.”
He wanted to paint that love and make it immortal.
Artistry…is a tough, amazing, in-your-face, compelling talent. it drives and bubbles to be expressed. we all have the terrible urge to express but may lack the intrinsic gift by which to let it out and free
The artistry of the beautifully woven blanket hung in the museum case.
It caught the boy’s eye, and lured him to it as a magnet to metal.
“What a masterpiece…”He breathed, staring in awe wonder at the work of art.
What? “Artistry.” A word reserved for pompous, pretentious wannabe high-class people who attempt to make themselves seem more professional and elegant. No, you do not display artistry in everyday life. You can exemplify creativity or see patterns around you, but artistry is for those condescending people who have tea and finger sandwiches alone on the patio in the afternoon.
My aunt always made it a hobby of hers to make arts-and-crafts a hobby of mine. I would sit and watch her doodle and glue, create and design. Amazed, I became her protegee and set forth to bring my own form of artistry to the world. Artistry is you. Where you have been, what you have seen, and most importantly – how you express who you’ve become.
artistry. I like to think that im an artist. I enjoy art. is artistry the art of art making. ooooh thats kinds of fancy. art is fun. shit am i being timed. how much time do i have left? what am i even doing? this is the longest minute ever! holy shit! whan can I stop is it going to make me write forever?? I have things to do! do i scroll down and stop….oops I think I’m suppose to be timing myself…haha
He woke up and went to the studio.
No ideas… Just plain work!
He had to deliver it properly and on time.
Nobody doubted his artistry.
Thinking of different art ideals and creating different things is a great and fun thing to do anytime.
Artistry is a creat a art.
Artistry.. the act of creating art… a true and epic masterpeice of some sort
Artistry means the true thought that goes into anything. Architecture, murals, drawings. The artistry of my friends Luisa and Isabel is truly amazing. Their detailed eye makes their work so much better.
Artistry has to be one of the greatest wonders of the living world.
everything is art.
I have no idea what this word means, but it’s petty good. People probably make good looking things, and make happy things, and other people probably really enjoy it. But I just don’t really understand it. I’m not artistic, I am, but not in visual, in mental ways. Its pretty cool to think how different we all are.
Would that I had any artistry left in me. I feel it’s been stagnant since I’ve been so happy for so long. And now, alone in the world and free to be consumed with longing for any one thing, I can feel it coming back.