napowrimo- 16- april 2020- aporia

As I Climb That Mountain again after months of exile, the familiar route feels distant and new.

As though my mind is in Aporia, I look up at the old map that worked its way up. Looking faded and tattered, really difficult to comprehend.

Looks like the whole world around me is in jeopardy . And I feel a sense of Ataraxia.

Does it feel any better when you find the road ahead all rickety with rocks meddled at you , you still searching the Ousia of your existence in this strange world.

So begin by imbibing Misology and following the flow that my heart wishes to go to.

Ultimately, the Aletheia is my return as prodigal son to the pages of writing, into thy arms of my long lost muse.

Sufjan Stevens is a Canadian singer you don’t probably know but he has just taught people a lot of new and old words with the tracklisting of his latest spacesynth album APORIA.

Writing a prompt using few words from the album and its meaning:
Climb That Mountain – it means what it says 🙂

Aporia – an expression of a simulated or real doubt

Ataraxia – is the untroubled and tranquil condition of the soul

Ousia – true being : entity, essence, substance (Merriam Webster Dictionary)

Misology – is the hatred of reasoning

Aletheia – Truth or disclosure in philosophy (Greek)

Copyright©2020-4th May by Elvira Lobo (All rights reserved; unauthorized use prohibited)

Disclaimer: The image(s) in the post are taken from Google. I don’t claim any of its rights.

Olga Bueva -Spoken Artwork

Art is a succulent to an artist. The form of art could be his/her paintings, poems, music, dance, singing and list goes on. 
Many spend years finding its nuances or learning them and few bring in their vibes that takes art to a different level.
That is probably where I would describe  Olga Bueva founder of Pe Pa Art and Nab Interiors.
Our first interaction was for choosing the book cover of my debut book Its My Life introduced by my publisher Karunesh Sir – Cyberwit  Publications.   Her paintings were so good, breathtaking and profound that eventually I excused myself to choose none of them that would loose the very individuality of her work that it truly deserves. 

 I have seen her art grow since then like a beautiful tree with branching out into decor and interiors that divulge and indulge an viewer with its majestic design, intricate structures. Not to forget her everyday lifestyle, life size paintings prod your thoughts to know about some timeless moments, era that need a revisit.

Times bring in new chapters,  but ain’t any worth if you forget to appreciate it, and so does Art for what I believe in.  So, here’s my humble post for a one in minion… Olga:) 

In a Spot

Her sunshades flickered on the window panes of a parked SUV, a Corolla Altis to be precise.Her brown eyes waited with bated breath through the grey lenses while she adjusted her bag, fidgeted with her skirt. She braced ahead to find him suddenly leaning against the bonnet. A casual tee , fitting jeans and a leather jacket completed his helluva look. She stopped at her tracks to find him still, and slowly bending to tie the carefree lace that danced on his shoe. His gaze met hers as he pulled himself up against the breeze.Then he lunged forward in quick strides while to a confusing horror,she froze like a piece of ice.

Broken Smile

He finally wore that broken smile,a smile not many appreciated, but there’s something incomplete which filled my soul with its half curved lines.That smile was just needed when I knew I couldn’t expect a word from a solicited guy.But, the smile was worthwhile, that tangent blew my hopes higher, firing some sparks,giving me the reason to stand besides him, if only momentarily would be fine coz that felt so complete,
He didn’t move, but let me hold his arms and I did feel his muscle reflex with that gesture.I waited to take in few breaths myself and then looked into his black broody eyes.He still didn’t react much.After a while, he grinned and said,
“Don’t let me grow on you,I am too difficult to handle”. I wouldn’t mind was my instant thought but I stood tight lipped and clutched his arm more firmly. He shrugged and faced me”Don’t you get it” sounding curt while I stood frozen.Then he vaguely let out a chuckle”But you sure have an impact on me ” and gave a half mooned smile again.

The Yellow Lamp

In that hardly lit room, with just a pale yellow lamp,
he sat moonfaced staring at his ironed clothes that hung loosely on the fragile hangers.The long overcoat followed by his grey leather jacket,his collection of wine coloured shirts and tees,his favourite blacks that clicked on every occasion and so on. The last one, further down to the end was a bright coloured shirt which had lost its gleam in the dark.His memory made him think it was an original ivory but now was an elephant’s tusk.He unwillingly held that one closer to him even as the lamp flikered more often now.The fabric had worn its life away but the touch felt the same. He put it on his bare chest while the clumsy dark pants clinged onto his legs.He marvelled at that blurry mirror which camouflaged his existence!