She's been staring at the screen for a few minutes, browsing other blogs to find inspirations on what to write about. She thought of her parents, thinking back home at this time it is 4 am, they must be sleeping still. Should she write about her parents? what does she know about them?. She stares at the black keyboard, dying to express something in writing. She needs to write. She still cant. She looks at the clock, waiting for someone to come home. She knows she should've went with her friends to the basketball excercise. But she thought she was fine to be at home alone on Saturday night. No she is not sad, she didn't have a bad day, nor month, nor year, nor a bad life. She just cant stand it when she has no spirit to do anything. She just cant stand it when there is so many things to do about her school, her work, and her life. but she's not doing any of those when she actually has time. She just cant stand it when she screamed with laughter at the tv screen. alone.
But what she hates the most is this waste of time for regrets. She's going to get up, take a hot shower, make a cup of tea and dance like a superstar in front of her mirror. A sight that anyone else will ever see. She will not try to be active and regrets..regrets..regrets.. yawn..
She'll enjoy her lazy night.

Together with da Vinci, he was one the most potent force in the Italian High Renaissance. He produced at least two relief sculptures by the time he was 16 years old, the Battle of the Centaurs and the Madonna of the Stairs. Eventhough da Vinci was the genius one, I adore Michelangelo for he had achieved a personal style at a very early age. I think sometimes you want to be alot of things in life, and it is difficult, you want to be successful, to have love, to be famous, also being liked by everybody. but in the end, it really is just about being yourself.

Having a personal style, finding who I am and being happy with it, that is what I call: living a life. As early as possible if I may, just like Michelangelo.

Anyway, my favourite painting is the one he painted on the ceiling of The Sistine Chapel. Working high above the chapel floor, lying on his back on scaffolding, Michelangelo painted, between 1508 and 1512, some of the finest pictorial images of all time: Nine scenes from the Book of Genesis, beginning with God Separating Light from Darkness, Creation of Adam, the Creation of Eve, the Temptation and Fall of Adam and Eve, and the Flood.

Years ago I saw this piece of Creation of Adam, I made a copy and put it in my diary until I left it in my hometown. I remember why I did that, I was wondering if the hands are reaching out or letting go. I still dont know.

love, l.l.d

The story behind the picture of "The Praying Hands"

Albrecht & Albert

Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nürnberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood.

Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of the Elder's children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nürnberg to study at the Academy.

After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by laboring in the mines.'

They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Dürer won the toss and went off to Nürnberg. His brother,Albert, went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his commissioned works.

When the young artist returned to his village, the Dürer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nürnberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you."

All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, "No ...no ...no ...no."

Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to Nürnberg. It is too late for me. Look ... look what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother ... for me it is too late."

More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Dürer's hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Dürer's works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.

One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Dürer painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love "The Praying Hands."

The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one - no one -- ever makes it alone!

Source : http://www.ftmagic.com/prayinghands.html
With acknowldgement to John Daniel, Jakarta.

I just realized that nothing pleases a woman heart better than doing something she really hates for someone she really loves.

That's why so many girls sitting grumpily beside her boyfriend while he is busy playing pc/video games. (I just cant think of a better example) Alot of these kinds are smart girls, mind you. so do not tell them to:"get a life".
Coz, just be honest, we venuses love doing these sort of things and we call it: 'sacrificing'.

Men would never agree, and the typical answer "I should thank you for sitting here with me? I never asked you to do so in the first place!"

My boyfriend also never agree of course, but he sure knows the trick. acknowledgment :"Hey, i really like it that you are interested in this game also"

That one simple sentence, made all my 'sacrifices' worth while..........

bring it on baby..

ps. Cant get this song out of my head --> dangdut is the music of my country... ahahaha.. so fun.

From other riddles that I've read, this one is my favourite:

What does man love more than life
Fear more than death or mortal strife.
What the poor have, the rich require,
and what contented men desire,
What the miser spends and the spendthrift saves
And all men carry to their graves ?



*Click "comments" to see the answer