Archivio tag: arti kontemporanja

Caltagirone Visionaria

Io chiamo religioso colui che comprende la sofferenza degli altri. (Mahatma Gandhi) / Sfere Rispetto Pianeta 321/330 – Una Rivelazione al Sentimento, Candido è il Respiro di Colui che Opera Poesia, Che Scorge Magia, Non c’è Porta che Eluda Chiusura, Contenimento della Profezia, Supremazia del Cauto, Innocenza dello Sguardo, Luminosità del Riflesso, Perdono dell’Amore, Rispetto dell’Educazione.

21 Caltagirone Visionaria Sicily needs love una rivelazione al sentimento

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22 Caltagirone Visionaria Sicily needs love candido è il respiro di colui che opera poesia

322 sfere rispetto pianeta acrylic claudio arezzo di trifiletti

23 Caltagirone Visionaria Sicily needs love che scorge magia

323 sfere rispetto pianeta acrylic claudio arezzo di trifiletti

24 Caltagirone Visionaria Sicily needs love non c'è porta che eluda chiusura

324 sfere rispetto pianeta acrylic claudio arezzo di trifiletti

25 Caltagirone Visionaria Sicily needs love contenimento della profezia

325 sfere rispetto pianeta acrylic claudio arezzo di trifiletti

26 Caltagirone Visionaria Sicily needs love supremazia del cauto

326 sfere rispetto pianeta acrylic claudio arezzo di trifiletti

27 Caltagirone Visionaria Sicily needs love innocenza dello sguardo

327 sfere rispetto pianeta acrylic claudio arezzo di trifiletti

28 Caltagirone Visionaria Sicily needs love luminosità del riflesso

328 sfere rispetto pianeta acrylic claudio arezzo di trifiletti

29 Caltagirone Visionaria Sicily needs love perdono dell'amore

329 sfere rispetto pianeta acrylic claudio arezzo di trifiletti

30 Caltagirone Visionaria Sicily needs love rispetto dell'educazione

330 sfere rispetto pianeta acrylic claudio arezzo di trifiletti

Siracusa Visionaria

Welcome, Isola di Ortigia (111/120 Sfere Acrylic Respect Planet) Mia Guida Pastore Fonnese, Riconoscenza dell’Incontro, Acqua Bene Comune Natura Necessita, Canto del Mattino Pietra Bianca, Ricordi d’Infanzia, Civiltà Contadine, Sentieri della Luce Attraversano lo Spirito, Chiave di Volta Duomo Quattro Sono le Gambe del Tavolo, Insenatura del Legno Racconto del Vissuto, Fontana Aretusa Papiro Salvezza della Parola. – Osservando un lichene, un tronco, un fiore trasformarsi, una goccia poggiarsi a terra, del sale cristallizzarsi, ascoltando all’alba un nuovo canto, in quel momento evado e torno nel Regno dove il Tutto è presente. Grato

siracusa visionaria ortigia sicily needs love 19 la mia guida pastore fonnese

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siracusa visionaria ortigia sicily needs love 21 riconoscenza dell'incontro mia pastore fonnese

112 sfere acrylic painting respect planet claudio arezzo di trifiletti

siracusa visionaria ortigia sicily needs love 20 acqua bene comune natura necessita imprints of peace presidente mia

113 sfere acrylic painting respect planet claudio arezzo di trifiletti

siracusa visionaria ortigia sicily needs love 22 canto del mattino pietra bianca 1mqdb imprints of peace

114 sfere acrylic painting respect planet claudio arezzo di trifiletti

siracusa visionaria ortigia sicily needs love 23 ricordi d'infanzia

115 sfere acrylic painting respect planet claudio arezzo di trifiletti

siracusa visionaria ortigia sicily needs love 24 imprints of peace civiltà contadine

116 sfere acrylic painting respect planet claudio arezzo di trifiletti

siracusa visionaria ortigia sicily needs love 24 sentieri della luce attraversa lo spirito

117 sfere acrylic painting respect planet claudio arezzo di trifiletti

siracusa visionaria ortigia sicily needs love 25 chiave di volta duomo quattro sono le gambe del tavolo

118 sfere acrylic painting respect planet claudio arezzo di trifiletti

siracusa visionaria ortigia sicily needs love 26 insenatura del legno racconto del vissuto

119 sfere acrylic painting respect planet claudio arezzo di trifiletti

siracusa visionaria ortigia sicily needs love 27 fontana aretusea 1mqdb papiro salvezza della parola

120 sfere acrylic painting respect planet claudio arezzo di trifiletti

Algoritmi di Pace Cortile delle Nevi

Incomunicabilità, programmi farciti di futile vanità, parole svuotate di contenuto in memoria dell’apparenza. Preconfezionamento dell’ego nella solitudine della palude, moltitudine di eventi nella confusione dell’azione. Astrattismo del reale, travestimento indefinito. Il fondamento di alimentazione reciproca del flusso sono conquiste rare. Emarginati i folli dalla reale follia. Dovremmo tutti amarci, riconoscerci come uno, comprenderci come base del quotidiano. Progresso Regresso. Origine della parola, Ti voglio bene (Paolino)

1 claudio arezzo di trifiletti cortile delle nevi algoritmi di pace murales arte artista visionario sicilia contemporanea

2 algorithms of peace murals art visionary artist sicily contemporary claudio arezzo di trifiletti cortile delle nevi

3 Algoritmes van vrede muurskilderye kuns visioenêre kunstenaar sisilië kontemporêre cortile delle nevi claudio arezzo di trifiletti

4 algrím friðar veggmynda list framsýnn listamaður Sikiley samtímans cortile delle nevi claudio arezzo di trifiletti

5 algorithmen des friedens wandbilder kunst visionärer künstler sizilien zeitgenössisch cortile delle nevi claudio arezzo di trifiletti

6 algorithmen des friedens wandbilder kunst visionärer künstler sizilien zeitgenössisch cortile delle nevi claudio arezzo di trifiletti

7 algoritmi tal-paċi murals arti viżjonarju artist sqallija kontemporanju cortile delle nevi claudio arezzo di trifiletti

8 Algorytmy Pokoju Malowidła ścienne Art Wizjonerski Artysta Współczesny Sycylii cortile delle nevi claudio arezzo di trifiletti

Tutto sembra seguire traccia

Siamo a volte attratti da ciò che non possediamo, tralasciando il Tutto che ci appartiene nella misura del nostro saper sentire. Il privilegio presente rischia perlopiù di essere trascurato. Anche un fiore di fagiolo è testimonianza. (Cortile delle Nevi)

cortile delle nevi catania visionaria sicily contemporary art

ricerca artista contemporaneo cortile delle nevi

acrylic claudio arezzo di trifiletti

cortile delle nevi claudio arezzo di trifiletti arte contemporanea

cortile delle nevi ricerca artista contemporaneo

ricerca arte contemporanea in sicilia cortile delle nevi

sicily contemporary artist in catania cortile delle nevi

traccia arte involontaria cortile delle nevi

Crucifix with bad words

Panda, all’interno anche un letto matrimoniale. Ritmo, aveva anche l’angolo bar – Elementi Comunicanti Arte Involontaria.

Crocifisso dalle malelingue

Crocifisso dalle malelingue

formikepazze – L’Echange – Percorsi Metropolitani – Coscienza – Casa Museo sotto l’Etna – Percorso Inverso – Uso e Riuso della materia – Omaggio a Tiziano Terzani – Interiore – Sorrisi Dipinti – Imprints of Peace – Spring in New York – Pace a tutti gli Ambasciatori nel mondo – Polvere – Cellula – l’Evoluzione del credo – Ecologando – Spazio Fluido – Lasciare il paesaggio libero – Risalendo la montagna – Mondo Vibrante – Undici giorni – Bene Marentibus – Humilitatis et libentiam – Corpi d’argilla dipinti d’oro – Sicily needs love – Mezzanine LIving – Terre di Martorina – Mediterranean – Il cortile del Sole – Cerchi d’oro Mia – Il Terzo fiore – Catania my City – Riscatta Piana – Vivaio Sonoro – Uno vale 18000 – Sabbia o Pietra, è il Vulcano a regnare – L’incognita dell’undici – Il Giardino dentro il giardino – Un metro quadrato di bosco.

The third flower

Sicily Fest May 17/18/19 – Boiler House, Brick Lane – Imprints of Peace London

Art matured in me even before I knew its name, or rather before it presented itself without a name. Art was the light that filled my eyes, the breath of awakening, the journeys in the midst of desolate lessons of occurrences and recurrences, it was the queue for breakfast, the plants, and animals. Art was prayer, fire, water and all the elements, art was the stars, the sun and all nature, it was being present in the total absence of an apparently present world. The artist I am inspired by, is the greatest Creator of heaven and earth, He is the Father of all fathers for how He presented Himself when I did not exist yet. He paints sunsets and dawns, and He shares them with us all. There is no man who does not know His face. He is humble, infinitely loving, and when I asked Him if it was Him, He replied, “Yes, it is I”. I dreamed that I was at the Bridge. The Bridge was a small estate of a Holy Family near Viagrande at the foot of Mount Etna, where as a child my grandparents and many friends gathered for the grape harvest. I remember the joy of picking the grapes immersed among the rose gardens, to press them with our bare feet among the grape pickers, I remember the shed with the fire burning and the many voices, on top of this small estate there was a small cave with the little Virgin Mary, to which I in the most innocent youth confided in my childhood prayers my worries and questions. The lady of the house was devoted to traditional cuisine. She used terracotta pots, and I still remember as if it were yesterday when she prepared a snack with her jams for after school. Every afternoon she took me to church to pray, the church was that of Monserrato, and even if I didn’t understand, I was well-behaved at her side. Now, after some time, I remember and I make connections again and again. In the dream that lasted a few infinite moments I found myself at the entrance by the cellar road. I was alone, I don’t remember what I was doing at that moment, but I will never forget the image of Him, or rather how He wanted to present himself to my eyes. He was not with regal clothes, indeed far from it. He was extremely peaceful and I found it hard to believe in the dream that the creator of everything could be so humble. I don’t remember Him uttering any revelation, because I felt that He was the revelation. I don’t remember any more words, and I don’t remember a content so infinitely powerful that it can fill any space. I asked Him if it was He, and He answered me “I am”. The dream is unforgettable, because He was infinitely humble. That dream is perhaps the key along with another dream that I will never forget. It is the key that makes me notice the small gestures, which makes me rejoice in the small things, which makes me see in a flame the soul of life, which makes me enjoy the little things, because only through small things can a great future be built. The little things, are the love that we risk losing for each other, it is the cry that comes out of me spontaneously, not knowing what I write. When I go out I feel love for everyone and everything. I would like to give love, this is the most ancient form of art. Art is Love, it is a testimony of pain for a world that moment by moment is moving away from small things, from loving each other. This is what my works scream; they cry out ceaselessly because we are all one. Even when I try to distract myself, even when I mix sugar with my miserable coffee every morning, I think of how many children still feed with their blood the insatiable abysses of the unscrupulous ignorant, how many families today still have to find themselves fighting to protect their history. How much ignorance continues to alienate families, children, fathers, from each other, to steal childhoods, to speculate on the good by selling poison? We are all Artists, beauty will save the world, the beauty of when every single being on this planet will return to communicate, communicate in the crisis, how much need there is for love. Father, your son always.