my painting
my world is a painting.
i have a canvas and i am creating a scene; some is my subject focus, say a child crying and running to find what she has lost; may be her someone with whom she had come to the bazar. i am capturing her unique expression of worry in her face. street and bazar has 30 persons around, i cannot neglect them. i have to capture them all and their business correctly. even when my focus is the child but why is she lost!
it is my painting and it is telling a story
i have grown and lived for 70 years in my painting. it is still being painted by me if i care and listening and seeing! i care to upgrade my painting. is it necessary?
i have known many hundreds person and it is a bazar. all have some goods to sell or buy. i too am one such person. but i too have to paint correctly me the lost child as much correctly as every other person i have met. they define me and my search. all the familiarities i have lost and still losing.
i have not read or studied einstein who defined the word genius in my painting. i have read rabindranath in my day to day life. he too has defined genius for me and more intimately. he tells me about the painter with whose collaboration i have painted my world in four dimension.
i do not care for einstein's relativity or energy theory. they are not necessary enough for me to know or prove. while rabindranat definitely is. he writes and sings about the same person that i am ~ the painter composer of my world who has also painted einstein and rabindranath as much delicately and in detail. so is all the characters i am attracted or repelled ~ dead and alive.
yesterday perhaps i was looking to end my research and go back to my work say writing a software again. today i do not have the occupation or inclination. i am painting my composer in detail and only him; not me or anybody!
i do not wish to know my world any more.
i have complete assurance and doubly confirmed that my world is just a painting ~ all the trees animals humans and all their characteristics habits beliefs activities and their possessions and faculties ~ the sky heaven stars sun moon light and darkness theories about them are too paintings ~ nothing can be expected out of them even if i try my best! they do not exist beyond my painting
my painting is not real. i am being collaborated by me that is the painter and absent in my painting. there is no point in having a dialog or trying to good or bad or anything for any in my painting. it appears and vanishes as per wish fulfilled by my composer. there is no chronology no time no before or after no distant no measure.
a single dot in the vacuum that cannot be filled with any composition or painting or equation or imagination.
they do not exist. my painting does not exist. if it was ever drawn it was drawn in vanishing ink on a non existing canvas. no einstein no rabindranath and none of their paintings either. ever in existence.
perhaps just like me, my living objects are still painting their world as unreal as mine. i cannot help them with their painting. they have their own painter composer and their painter too is not part of their painting. a single dot in vacuum.
Predictability that this scenario is never going to change ~ 100% ~ static ~ absolute. the supplier of canvas and paints is inexhaustible ~dot and vacuum. the painter is immortal or always and whenever needed ~ if in case i wish to be. collaborator does not ever vanish. painting vanishes as per my wish.
history repeats itself. old is never old. everyday is the same old and as expected. purana is never purana. unless abandoned history old painting or expecting. by me.
those who are still painting and continue to do the same ~ i know my words is of no help. my words disappear as soon as i let out in the vacuum.
invisible
it is total vacuum surrounding me and i don't know how to fill this vacuum.
if anything is happening i am unable to perceive!
i have a canvas and i am creating a scene; some is my subject focus, say a child crying and running to find what she has lost; may be her someone with whom she had come to the bazar. i am capturing her unique expression of worry in her face. street and bazar has 30 persons around, i cannot neglect them. i have to capture them all and their business correctly. even when my focus is the child but why is she lost!
it is my painting and it is telling a story
i have grown and lived for 70 years in my painting. it is still being painted by me if i care and listening and seeing! i care to upgrade my painting. is it necessary?
i have known many hundreds person and it is a bazar. all have some goods to sell or buy. i too am one such person. but i too have to paint correctly me the lost child as much correctly as every other person i have met. they define me and my search. all the familiarities i have lost and still losing.
i have not read or studied einstein who defined the word genius in my painting. i have read rabindranath in my day to day life. he too has defined genius for me and more intimately. he tells me about the painter with whose collaboration i have painted my world in four dimension.
i do not care for einstein's relativity or energy theory. they are not necessary enough for me to know or prove. while rabindranat definitely is. he writes and sings about the same person that i am ~ the painter composer of my world who has also painted einstein and rabindranath as much delicately and in detail. so is all the characters i am attracted or repelled ~ dead and alive.
yesterday perhaps i was looking to end my research and go back to my work say writing a software again. today i do not have the occupation or inclination. i am painting my composer in detail and only him; not me or anybody!
i do not wish to know my world any more.
i have complete assurance and doubly confirmed that my world is just a painting ~ all the trees animals humans and all their characteristics habits beliefs activities and their possessions and faculties ~ the sky heaven stars sun moon light and darkness theories about them are too paintings ~ nothing can be expected out of them even if i try my best! they do not exist beyond my painting
my painting is not real. i am being collaborated by me that is the painter and absent in my painting. there is no point in having a dialog or trying to good or bad or anything for any in my painting. it appears and vanishes as per wish fulfilled by my composer. there is no chronology no time no before or after no distant no measure.
a single dot in the vacuum that cannot be filled with any composition or painting or equation or imagination.
they do not exist. my painting does not exist. if it was ever drawn it was drawn in vanishing ink on a non existing canvas. no einstein no rabindranath and none of their paintings either. ever in existence.
perhaps just like me, my living objects are still painting their world as unreal as mine. i cannot help them with their painting. they have their own painter composer and their painter too is not part of their painting. a single dot in vacuum.
Predictability that this scenario is never going to change ~ 100% ~ static ~ absolute. the supplier of canvas and paints is inexhaustible ~
history repeats itself. old is never old. everyday is the same old and as expected. purana is never purana. unless abandoned history old painting or expecting. by me.
those who are still painting and continue to do the same ~ i know my words is of no help. my words disappear as soon as i let out in the vacuum.
invisible
it is total vacuum surrounding me and i don't know how to fill this vacuum.
if anything is happening i am unable to perceive!
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