Sometimes…

Sometimes two worlds collide. It’s actually a fight.  A senseless fight.  A blind one.  Collapsing.  Destructive.  It’s sad because it’s not real.

We have our own demons. Why not black birds. I felt amused by the idea of covering the little dots on the net of the hat with birds…
Model: Kata Davidova
Photographer: Evelina Pentcheva – PhotoEnigmatic.com

Being true to yourself…

I believe being true to yourself is almost like a skill that has to be learned. There is very subtle line between the acting out of respect, because of certain rules, because we have to, because we don’t want to hurt others and the recognition of what feels right

Dare to be. Wild.

 http://photoenigmatic.com

Being a channel for grace…

Some days our inner desire to achieve clarity and balance is rewarded with beautiful insights.
What resonates with my soul today is the vision that by being a channel for grace and wisdom, we inspire and raise the people around us much more, than by supporting their wounded hearts. So compassion and help should be preceded by example.

Goddess Art

http://photoenigmatic.com

The art of blending reality with imagination

Fine Art&Photography http://photoenigmatic.com

Overwhelmed, overloaded, exhausted


Overwhelmed, overloaded and exhausted by the never ending stream of information -conscious, subconscious, direct or subliminal…..We are looking for simplicity, serenity and quiet wisdom. We are gasping for fresh air, for stillness in time.
What will save us from submerging in insanity, what will halt the time and silence the noise? Chattering but not speaking, listening but not hearing, Jammed, clogged, burdened and oblivious, blind and deaf to the essence of the true reality, we live in a world that we sometimes wish we didn’t belong to. A world that we don’t really understand..or feel. We have lost the ability to quiet our minds and contemplate in solitude and wonder in awe..Forced to believe that all we get is one chance at life and that the earth needs every hour, minute, second of our time, of us…..

Teachers night – a room full of parents, men and women with tired eyes and lifeless bodies. No fire, no flame, no vibrancy or excitement. What robbed us from the innate passion for life? What turned us into desert flowers dying, gasping for water?

Overindulged, buried in chemically altered food and material possessions, we walk deprived – hungry and thirsty.

A feeling of escape and a survival instinct overwhelms me every day, but… Where? How? When?

The routine is all we know… we die slowly without identity, we try not to, we still do..

All that’s left behind on a digital memory stick are the captured moments, faces, flowers, the tincture of our lives….

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