now, back again. i really like to paint. but, as i said i havent paint much lately. i wonder if animals have the same potencial sensibility that we do. do they feel something peculiar when they look at a painting? …
Painted wagons, tried tents. The painted wagon, the painted home, the painted treetops in painted Rome. Painted with teeth and tatters and ruin. The world is a lonely place without color, though colors can be empty and lonely, as well. They may be around the corner, five miles from home, or a sixth the way across the world, but they are universal.
I painted a house today. It was green and purple. Who wants their house green and purple. It wasn’t even light green and purple. It was those nice bold colors. I mean I guess it makes it easier for giving directions. It’s the house with purple evens and everything else is green.
screen painted materials. like the workshop where i used to be last year. no matter what even thought screen inking is very different from painting, but its pretty cool. i wish i could go back. to be a happy machine in the workshop. not really, i mean,, im doing coool things right now but im not painting that much…
I painted the walls purple when I was seven, although I hated purple. It reminded me of everything I hated. About my friends and my school and the stupid stuffed bear I got when I was in hospital. Maybe that’s why I like the colour so much now, because it symbolises everything I hate about myself and my past, and it means so much more to me than anybody will ever know.
It is spring, a new couple has just had a baby and they have painted the nursery a beautiful yellow. It is the signalling of a new beginning of a new life. It is fresh and new and wonderful.
I would love to see my home painted all over new again. with brightest colors for some sunshine around my home. White is not my color and i am bored of it now. Also i want a break to decorate my home all over again.
I have painted a lot throughout my life. I do not paint things how they actually appear, however. I paint them how i’d like them to appear. It is my way of trying to help these things reach perfection.
I took my coloring pencils and ran up to the sidewalk. i sat on my knees and painted a beautiful picture. Full of rainbows and flowers.. Quite sunny totally opposite to my feelings. But it cheered me up. :). I smiled at my creation. It filled me with a warm feeling in my tummy that made me feel very pleasant. Even the rain couldn’t erase it away.
The painted artwork that surrounds us tells us all about the beautiful reality we live in. It shows us a perception about the realistic and imaginative world that can be created within ourselves.
The world is a dream that we have lived. A dream is a reflection of the world within, a painting is its rendition, a moment captured, frozen forever. A photograph is a moment of reality, the world we share. The worlds within and without are shared.
A painted picture is more than just an image. Its an art. Its an expression. Many people express their way through painted pictures. Sometimes your love for something isn’t strong enough to say in words so you must express it a different way.
His sadness and obsession was painted, painted all over him. The artist stood before him, speaking of manufactured feelings, and the canvas, he wept because he feared all his paint, the paint all over, had never been true. Before reaction could breach the sky, the artist tore through that canvas, once again, and wiped it clean, so shamelessly.
I hate the painter, and pity the canvas… I pity the canvas.
Painting is a fun art form, I enjoy painting orange in my bedroom and paiting pictures based on already finished pictures. Many peolpe paint to express themselves. That is a great thing to do. It helps creativity and brings people together. It also creates new movements and teaches things to newer generations.
i painted over my yellow walls. yellow,, covered in signatures and sketches, notes and smiley faces. It kept my friends close and present always. But i painted over them. with each stroke of the brush i could hear their words sputter out one last time. silenced by white. an off white actually. people like off white. people don’t buy houses with yellow walls with writing all over. so i painted. i painted so the house could sell. i painted so everything could change. i painted so my father could leave and start his new life without me.
the house is painted in green and the windowframes are red.
the fence is dark blue and the door yellow.
the cat is brown and the dog is black.
the ball is pink and the clouds on the sky are white.
the sun is yellow the grass is green
and the sea is blue
and all these colors make me know
that I live in a wonderful world.
Painted. When i think of the world painted, i think of the word picture which makes me think of art which makes me think of the movie that I saw “The Art of Getting By” which makes me think of how friends can betray you.
Do you think about painting flowers? Like alice in wonderland? Changing the colors when you don’t like them anymore. Can people do that too? Change themselves when they don’t like who they are anymore? Or are we forger adding layers to mask who we truly are?
Cheri looked in the mirror and painted her eyebrows on. Then she painted her eyelashes, her ruby-red lips and her nose. She was determined to be the cutest clown in the show.
Continuing, she painted comically gargantuan nipples and a clownlike vagina. Mr. Fields, the owner of the circus, was at a loss for words when the comically naked Cheri chased ringmaster Carl into the tiger cage with a cream pie.
her painted face masked the pain of her heart. eyeshadow think and glittering, mascara enhancing her long fan-like lashes, and eyeliner drawn into a cat’s shape. tonight, se was no longer the sweet innocent of her yesterday, but a shinning star that would burn bright through the nights here on after. tonight she would no longer cry because of a broken heart, but go forth and seek to take what must be stolen. the infinate cruelty of that boys lies will never be forgotten. she promised herself on this painted mask, that she would show him what a real woman was. flaunt a goddess he could never touch, and watch him shrivel in agony as she had that first night he dare strike her.
painted blue. like the mural on the wall that i could have been a part of. but i chose to withdrawal, like i usually do. weird, because it doesnt make me feel better. but it makes me feel more complete. more inside of myself. lately i’ve been lacking withdrawal. but i’ve been happy. so happy. painted happy. its ridiculous.
this piocture was painted a long time ago of a woman with the most mysterious smile. she wore a veil and was so pretty. Many people to this day wondered about her relationship to the painter and what connection they had, and what her real name was and her life. It’s amazing to think that such emotion can be caught and saved over so much time.
It’s only afterwards that the regret and the guilt sets in, a low-bellied crawl that weighs heavily on his shoulders after all the anger seeps out and leaves him empty and hollow. He goes too far and does too much to leave his mark, leaves Tei painted in mottled flourishes of red scrapes and purpling bruises that yellow around the edges. Except Tei doesn’t leave him without his own share of scars, leaves him painted with his own set of knuckle imprints and darkening impressions of teeth. Burst blood vessels splotch all over their bodies like some twisted Pollock. “Look,” he hears. “Now we match.”
now i get exactly what this web page is for! i really like, even more since i really cant paint and i mostly express my self with writing…. well i hope its painted the way i like things to be.
i hear that this word is often used to describe smiles and i’m not sure that i understand it. perhaps it is because i am young and have not yet been introduced to a world where people have to pretend to be happy or beautiful in some certain way every single day, but i really can’t imagine what it means.
your smile always seems so real to me.
s.p.
Painted. Painting. Painter. Paint. When you hear a voice inside you saying “Don’t Paint” then by all means paint and let that voice be silenced forever more. You are an artist everyday you paint a world with you imagination. Consider your past painted.
Damn it this iPad sucks for writing anything quickly. There is a cool paint app I got recently from autodesk. That was a bust. Spellcheck on iPad sucks too as it will take a long word you misspelled and turn it into two irrelevant words
So this one day I get this idea – I want to paint. I’ve never painted anything before in my life, nothing real at least, nothing outside of those dumb kindergarten finger paints. So here I go. I paint. And the colors burst. And it looks like crap. But hey, I painted something, didn’t I? Did what I wanted? I did. I did it. I painted.
now, back again. i really like to paint. but, as i said i havent paint much lately. i wonder if animals have the same potencial sensibility that we do. do they feel something peculiar when they look at a painting? …
You looks painted.
Painted wagons, tried tents. The painted wagon, the painted home, the painted treetops in painted Rome. Painted with teeth and tatters and ruin. The world is a lonely place without color, though colors can be empty and lonely, as well. They may be around the corner, five miles from home, or a sixth the way across the world, but they are universal.
I painted a house today. It was green and purple. Who wants their house green and purple. It wasn’t even light green and purple. It was those nice bold colors. I mean I guess it makes it easier for giving directions. It’s the house with purple evens and everything else is green.
screen painted materials. like the workshop where i used to be last year. no matter what even thought screen inking is very different from painting, but its pretty cool. i wish i could go back. to be a happy machine in the workshop. not really, i mean,, im doing coool things right now but im not painting that much…
I painted the walls purple when I was seven, although I hated purple. It reminded me of everything I hated. About my friends and my school and the stupid stuffed bear I got when I was in hospital. Maybe that’s why I like the colour so much now, because it symbolises everything I hate about myself and my past, and it means so much more to me than anybody will ever know.
She leaned back in the bright summer sun, feeling his careful paint brush wash over her face.
He was using pastels, taking inspiration from the flowers and grass and butterflies around them.
A twirl here, a little twist there—
And he stopped, planting a kiss on her lips, right where he had painted his heart.
i painted something on my pillow, it made me have a good dream, it
I painted alot when I was younger and unmedicated. Now not so much. I hate being on meds that take away my creativity.
It is spring, a new couple has just had a baby and they have painted the nursery a beautiful yellow. It is the signalling of a new beginning of a new life. It is fresh and new and wonderful.
I would love to see my home painted all over new again. with brightest colors for some sunshine around my home. White is not my color and i am bored of it now. Also i want a break to decorate my home all over again.
I have painted a lot throughout my life. I do not paint things how they actually appear, however. I paint them how i’d like them to appear. It is my way of trying to help these things reach perfection.
canvasin a tower, in a study, on a desk , in the hands of the artist, through the window, through the night, through the air, the sky
painted faces in the sky. painted faces why oh why. painted faces everywhere. paint your face, don’t be a square.
I took my coloring pencils and ran up to the sidewalk. i sat on my knees and painted a beautiful picture. Full of rainbows and flowers.. Quite sunny totally opposite to my feelings. But it cheered me up. :). I smiled at my creation. It filled me with a warm feeling in my tummy that made me feel very pleasant. Even the rain couldn’t erase it away.
The painted artwork that surrounds us tells us all about the beautiful reality we live in. It shows us a perception about the realistic and imaginative world that can be created within ourselves.
The world is a dream that we have lived. A dream is a reflection of the world within, a painting is its rendition, a moment captured, frozen forever. A photograph is a moment of reality, the world we share. The worlds within and without are shared.
A painted picture is more than just an image. Its an art. Its an expression. Many people express their way through painted pictures. Sometimes your love for something isn’t strong enough to say in words so you must express it a different way.
His sadness and obsession was painted, painted all over him. The artist stood before him, speaking of manufactured feelings, and the canvas, he wept because he feared all his paint, the paint all over, had never been true. Before reaction could breach the sky, the artist tore through that canvas, once again, and wiped it clean, so shamelessly.
I hate the painter, and pity the canvas… I pity the canvas.
Painting is a fun art form, I enjoy painting orange in my bedroom and paiting pictures based on already finished pictures. Many peolpe paint to express themselves. That is a great thing to do. It helps creativity and brings people together. It also creates new movements and teaches things to newer generations.
i painted over my yellow walls. yellow,, covered in signatures and sketches, notes and smiley faces. It kept my friends close and present always. But i painted over them. with each stroke of the brush i could hear their words sputter out one last time. silenced by white. an off white actually. people like off white. people don’t buy houses with yellow walls with writing all over. so i painted. i painted so the house could sell. i painted so everything could change. i painted so my father could leave and start his new life without me.
people like off-white. i liked yellow.
the house is painted in green and the windowframes are red.
the fence is dark blue and the door yellow.
the cat is brown and the dog is black.
the ball is pink and the clouds on the sky are white.
the sun is yellow the grass is green
and the sea is blue
and all these colors make me know
that I live in a wonderful world.
Painted. When i think of the world painted, i think of the word picture which makes me think of art which makes me think of the movie that I saw “The Art of Getting By” which makes me think of how friends can betray you.
Do you think about painting flowers? Like alice in wonderland? Changing the colors when you don’t like them anymore. Can people do that too? Change themselves when they don’t like who they are anymore? Or are we forger adding layers to mask who we truly are?
Cheri looked in the mirror and painted her eyebrows on. Then she painted her eyelashes, her ruby-red lips and her nose. She was determined to be the cutest clown in the show.
Continuing, she painted comically gargantuan nipples and a clownlike vagina. Mr. Fields, the owner of the circus, was at a loss for words when the comically naked Cheri chased ringmaster Carl into the tiger cage with a cream pie.
her painted face masked the pain of her heart. eyeshadow think and glittering, mascara enhancing her long fan-like lashes, and eyeliner drawn into a cat’s shape. tonight, se was no longer the sweet innocent of her yesterday, but a shinning star that would burn bright through the nights here on after. tonight she would no longer cry because of a broken heart, but go forth and seek to take what must be stolen. the infinate cruelty of that boys lies will never be forgotten. she promised herself on this painted mask, that she would show him what a real woman was. flaunt a goddess he could never touch, and watch him shrivel in agony as she had that first night he dare strike her.
painted blue. like the mural on the wall that i could have been a part of. but i chose to withdrawal, like i usually do. weird, because it doesnt make me feel better. but it makes me feel more complete. more inside of myself. lately i’ve been lacking withdrawal. but i’ve been happy. so happy. painted happy. its ridiculous.
this piocture was painted a long time ago of a woman with the most mysterious smile. she wore a veil and was so pretty. Many people to this day wondered about her relationship to the painter and what connection they had, and what her real name was and her life. It’s amazing to think that such emotion can be caught and saved over so much time.
It’s only afterwards that the regret and the guilt sets in, a low-bellied crawl that weighs heavily on his shoulders after all the anger seeps out and leaves him empty and hollow. He goes too far and does too much to leave his mark, leaves Tei painted in mottled flourishes of red scrapes and purpling bruises that yellow around the edges. Except Tei doesn’t leave him without his own share of scars, leaves him painted with his own set of knuckle imprints and darkening impressions of teeth. Burst blood vessels splotch all over their bodies like some twisted Pollock. “Look,” he hears. “Now we match.”
now i get exactly what this web page is for! i really like, even more since i really cant paint and i mostly express my self with writing…. well i hope its painted the way i like things to be.
there’s never enough colour in the world, so why not paint it to your own perspective?
i love the way you painted that walls without printing your fingers on them!
i hear that this word is often used to describe smiles and i’m not sure that i understand it. perhaps it is because i am young and have not yet been introduced to a world where people have to pretend to be happy or beautiful in some certain way every single day, but i really can’t imagine what it means.
your smile always seems so real to me.
s.p.
pretty ^_^
Painted. Painting. Painter. Paint. When you hear a voice inside you saying “Don’t Paint” then by all means paint and let that voice be silenced forever more. You are an artist everyday you paint a world with you imagination. Consider your past painted.
Damn it this iPad sucks for writing anything quickly. There is a cool paint app I got recently from autodesk. That was a bust. Spellcheck on iPad sucks too as it will take a long word you misspelled and turn it into two irrelevant words
mona lisa
davinci
carvaggio
my walls
kirouskuro
walls and veils paintings oil canvass sunsets lakes ladies madonna virgin woman oil paint brush stroke unveil cloth.
So this one day I get this idea – I want to paint. I’ve never painted anything before in my life, nothing real at least, nothing outside of those dumb kindergarten finger paints. So here I go. I paint. And the colors burst. And it looks like crap. But hey, I painted something, didn’t I? Did what I wanted? I did. I did it. I painted.
the sunflower looked beautiful on the wall. I was exhausted, but so proud of myself. As I wiped the sweat from my forehead