tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8205032799383443562011-04-21T20:53:38.919-07:00Roxana Maria Arashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17930098192807902963noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-820503279938344356.post-88472920353150936942008-01-22T00:23:00.000-08:002008-01-22T00:25:06.001-08:00<div align="justify"><i><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><br />A fost odata ca niciodata o fata obisnuita….nu era fiica cea mica a imparatului, nu castigase nici un concurs de frumusete, nu fusese nominalizata la premiul Nobel pentru Pace si nu muscase din partea rosie a marului. Insa caracterul ei obisnuit era condimentat de imensa frica simtita la perspectiva unei lumi banale colorate in gri. Se ingrozea doar la gandul unei taram unde ura si iubirea au aceasi culoare, unde nu exista linie de orizont intre mare si cer si unde campul de flori salbatice e de un dureros gri…<br /><br />Dar pentru ca viata reala este presarata cu firmituri de basm, ursitoarele i-au oferit fetei la nastere o pensula si o paleta de culori aduse de peste 7 mari si 7 tari. Ele i-au ursit ca fiecare nuanta de pe acea plansa sa redea frumusetea semtimentelor ei si sa le proiecteze in lumea cenusie de care ea fugea. Astfel lumea a devenit chevaletul ei…Cand era nervoasa colora marea in mii de nuante mov, fericirea o facea sa arunce stropi de verde pe cer, cand simtea pasiunea desena cercuri rosii in aer si purtiatea ii colora valurile intr-un alb orbitor. Astfel lumea ei a devenit unica si frumos colorata….. ca si ea de altfel…<br /><br />Frumusetea este culoare…dar nu cea perceputa de sistemul nervos prin celule bastonase si conuri de pe retina, ci culoarea ce izbucneste frenetic de pe acea paleta, metaforic numita suflet. Fiecare om a primit de la ursioarea sa o plansa de culori si o pensula special create pentru ea sau el. Chiar daca nu este Van Gogh, Rembrant, Picasso sau Modigliani, fiecare poate da frumusete si unicitate lumii sale si siesi prin culoriile alese de pe acea paleta. Astfel, frumusetea consta in nuantele prin care tu iti colorezi viata…..Spune-mi, tu cum colorezi marea cind esti nervoas, suparat sau fericit? </span></i><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/820503279938344356-8847292035315093694?l=coulourfulpaintbrush.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Roxana Maria Arashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17930098192807902963noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-820503279938344356.post-89632780911361723732008-01-22T00:22:00.000-08:002008-01-22T00:23:25.267-08:00<span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><i><br />I keep my paint brush with me<br />Wherever I may go,<br />In case I need to cover up<br />So the real me doesn’t show.<br />I’m so afraid to show you me,<br />Afraid of what you’ll do – that<br />You might laugh or say mean things.<br />I’m afraid I might lose you.<br /><br />I’d like to remove all my paint coats<br />To show you the real, true me,<br />But I want you to try and understand,<br />I need you to accept what you see.<br />So if you’ll be patient and close your eyes,<br />I’ll strip off all my coats real slow.<br />Please understand how much it hurts<br />To let the real me show.<br /><br />Now my coats are all stripped off.<br />I feel naked, bare and cold,<br />And if you still love Me with all that you see,<br />You are my friend, pure as gold.<br /><br />I need to save my paint brush, though,<br />And hold it in my hand,<br />I want to keep it handy<br />In case somebody doesn’t understand.<br />So please protect me, my dear friend<br />And thanks for loving me true,<br />But please let me keep my paint brush with me<br />Until I love me, too.</i></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/820503279938344356-8963278091136172373?l=coulourfulpaintbrush.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Roxana Maria Arashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17930098192807902963noreply@blogger.com0