Good Morning Digital Neighbors! Political quotes from Oxymoronica can leave something of a sour taste in your mouth. How about some fun quotes on art for a Tuesday morning? A random sampling of quotes from artists as well as
First I dream my painting, then I paint my dream. - Vincent Van Gogh
Don't play what's there, play what's not there. - Miles Davis
The creative person is both more primitive and more cultivated . . .a lot madder and a lot saner, than the average person - Frank Barron.
Jazz is the only music in which the same note can be played night after night but differently each time. - Ornette Coleman
Too all of you artists out there that seek beauty and the inexpressible, thank you. While art can express the full spectrum of human emotions and creativity, I don't care more for art that highlights the ugliness or brokenness of life since I see enough of that in daily life. A good play or drama is the exception, but I don't appreciate or care for ugly paintings, insane music or some artists expressing their clear need for therapy rather than a platform.
The good news - I don't have to listen or look at things that are of no interest to me. IMAGINE THAT??? I don't have to react to things that offend me and give it or them power over my emotional condition. I know, I know, strange thinking for this age of perpetual anger and emotional distortion.
If you life is so boring that you need something outside of your to stir up your emotional state to feel alive, get a hobby. A hard hobby, an impossible hobby and learn the joy of failing repeatedly on your path of growth and competency. Learn the joy of repetition and monotony. Build or create something rather than being part of the cult of satisfied destroyers who think that tearing down something is a great accomplishment. It never has been. Destruction is at best a temporary state in transition from one path of building to another.
Thank you artists for being part of the builders. Thank you for being the eyes, ears, mouth and mind of beauty and creativity in our midst. Thank you for highlighting the full spectrum of the human condition and well as taking us beyond the realm of thought and familiarity to new horizons.
What delights us in visible beauty is the invisible. - Marie Von Ebner-Eschenbach
Have a great day ADD Irregulars and Vagabonds of the WSN! See some of you at Coffee Talk and others in their postings around Locals. Happy Tuesday!
Iceland in August - Nature still wins most artistic contest but not all.
Today marks the three hundred and thirtieth birthday of the Frenchman François-Marie Arouet, better known by his nom de plume, Voltaire (1694-1778).
Born into a bourgeois family during the reign of Louis XIV, the “Sun King” (r. 1643-1715), Voltaire suffered tragedy at a young age when his mother died. Never close with his father or brother, Voltaire exhibited a rebellious attitude toward authority from his youth. His brilliant mind was fostered in the care of the Society of Jesus, who introduced him to the joys of literature and theater. Despite his later criticisms against the Church, Voltaire, throughout his life, fondly recalled his dedicated Jesuit teachers.
Although he spent time as a civil servant in the French embassy to the Hague, Voltaire’s main love was writing—an endeavor where he excelled in various genres, including poetry, which led to his appointment as the royal court poet for King Louis XV. Widely recognized as one of the greatest French writers, and even hyperbolically referred to by ...
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2026 Coffee Talk with the ADD Irregulars
Thursday, January 1, 2026
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One day there came into the Garden a man in torn clothes badly bruised and cut, who said to the Lover, “In the name of the Beloved I demand your help.”
So the Lover and the Disciple let him in and dressed his wounds and prepared the best of the vegetables from the Garden for him to eat. When his wounds had been dressed and he had eaten and rested the Lover asked him how he had fallen into this plight, to which the man replied, “I was Minister of the Beloved in a city near this place, where I preached His gospel and expounded His doctrine to the people. I pointed out to them how their sins had made them wholly hateful to the Beloved and how therefore they were utterly beyond the range of His love and He would condemn them to eternal torments, whereon some fell into despair and wept bitterly but many were angry. One day the magistrates called me before them and begged me to leave the city and preach elsewhere for they said I had made many people so angry and desperate that they feared there might be a riot and they might not be able to protect me but that I might suffer some injury. I, however, very zealous for the Beloved and believing that the magistrates only feared that their own sins might be proclaimed, preached the more vehemently, denounced the magistrates and made it abundantly clear that the whole wicked city was foredoomed to eternal punishment by the just provision of the Beloved. Whereon a mob, stirred up no doubt by the corrupt and venal magistrates, fell upon me with sticks and stones, nearly killing me and driving me out of the city in the state in which I came to you.”
“My friend,” said the Lover, “this was not a good deed of yours, for besides denying the unfathomable compassion of the Beloved, you have by your obstinacy caused these people to commit a grievous sin, and this cannot be pleasing to the Beloved, that through you who profess to be His minister the people should become worse. Surely you remember that He Himself said, ‘If they persecute you in one city flee to another.’”
Therefore the man was very angry, and cursing the Lover, said, “I see that I have had a very false report of you and I do not believe that you are a servant of the Beloved at all. When I came to you so injured for the Beloved’s sake you set before me only herbs and fruits although the garden is full of birds which you could have killed to make me a worthy meal. I shall proclaim everywhere that you are no true servant of the Beloved but a mere falterer who dares not suffer in the cause of the Beloved. Be sure that you are foreordained to eternal torments who suffer nothing here.”
For the man was so blinded by his own pride that he could not perceive the scars on the hands and feet and the brows of the Lover nor how the cloth beneath the armpits of his tunic was dyed with a red dye. So he went out of the Garden cursing and shouting.
But the Lover looked sad and said, “A man like this does much harm to the cause of the Beloved, for by thus speaking falsely about the Beloved he may bring men to fear Him but none to love Him, and by love alone can any man approach the Beloved.”