This ball point pen drawing is about feeling blue, crying rivers of snow flake tears, feeling so cold, so lost so lonely in the winter of the soul.
This blog contains the drawings and paintings of Corina Chirila
Showing posts with label ball point pen drawing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ball point pen drawing. Show all posts
Thursday, May 7, 2020
Sunday, January 26, 2020
Thursday, May 23, 2019
Wednesday, May 22, 2019
Sunday, February 10, 2019
Wednesday, January 16, 2019
The fractal tree growing from the seed of life
Etichete:
ball point pen drawing,
fractal,
seed of life,
tree
Friday, December 14, 2018
Tuesday, October 30, 2018
Sunday, September 9, 2018
Sunday, February 11, 2018
The story of a kiss
Friday, February 9, 2018
Friday, November 10, 2017
Wednesday, October 25, 2017
Light
Light, ball point pen drawing |
I am sitting in the sun
I can feel the power
Of a new dawn in my mind
Everything is bright
Love is all and love is round
Like a precious flower
Im a spirit floating down
In the universe
Light
Shining in your eyes
Everyday
Wash away the pain
Light
Coming from my mind
We are one
Life has just begun
People walking through my world
I can see are brothers
They are faces they are worlds
Of a simple birth
Put your guns down on the ground
Dont you hurt each other
Let your spirit heal the sun
In the universe
Light is just a misconcept
Light is just a color
Light it is you
Because light is just a concept
Light is but a color
Light is you
Friday, October 20, 2017
My ball point pen drawing of a chromosome
Friday, September 22, 2017
Monday, August 28, 2017
Wednesday, May 10, 2017
Rainbow tears
In a black and white world my eye wants to see a rainbow and I cry rainbow tears. I cry for equality. I cry for human rights. I cry for my right to live a real life and love. I cry hoping for a better world
This is my latest ball point pen drawing
Friday, March 17, 2017
Monday, February 20, 2017
Sad girl with violet tiara
Sappho's girls
The poem below, written by Sappho has inspired me to make this ball point pen drawing
This is my song of maidens dear to me.
Eranna, a slight girl I counted thee,
When first I looked upon thy form and face,
Slim as a reed, and all devoid of grace.
But stately stature, grace and beauty came
Unto thee with the years — O, dost not shame
For this, Eranna, that thy pride hath grown
Therewith? Alas for thee ! I have not known
One beauty ever of more scornful mien,
As though thou wert of all earth's daughters queen!
Mnasidica is comelier, perchance,
Than my Gyrinna — ah, but sweetly rings
Gyrinna's matchless voice ! In rapture-trance
I listen, listen, while Gyrinna sings.
Hero of Gyara is fleet of foot
As fawns, and as light-footed in the dance,
The dance taught by the measures of my lute.
Ever-impassioned Gorgo! — is it strange
That I grow weary of the change on change
Of thine adored ones? — of thy rhapsodies
O'er each new girlfriend, while the old love dies?
Joy to thee, daughter of a princely race,
For thy last dear one! Lie in her embrace —
Till shines a new star on thy raptured eyes!
Fonder of maids thou art, I trow, than she.
The ghost who nightly steal young girls, to be
In Hades of her woeful company.
This is my fair girl-garden: sweet they grow —
Rose, violet, asphodel and lily's snow;
And which the sweetest is, I do not know;
For rosy arms and starry eyes are there.
Honey-sweet voices and cheeks passing fair.
And these shall men, I ween, remember long;
For these shall bloom for ever in my song.
This is my song of maidens dear to me.
Eranna, a slight girl I counted thee,
When first I looked upon thy form and face,
Slim as a reed, and all devoid of grace.
But stately stature, grace and beauty came
Unto thee with the years — O, dost not shame
For this, Eranna, that thy pride hath grown
Therewith? Alas for thee ! I have not known
One beauty ever of more scornful mien,
As though thou wert of all earth's daughters queen!
Mnasidica is comelier, perchance,
Than my Gyrinna — ah, but sweetly rings
Gyrinna's matchless voice ! In rapture-trance
I listen, listen, while Gyrinna sings.
Hero of Gyara is fleet of foot
As fawns, and as light-footed in the dance,
The dance taught by the measures of my lute.
Ever-impassioned Gorgo! — is it strange
That I grow weary of the change on change
Of thine adored ones? — of thy rhapsodies
O'er each new girlfriend, while the old love dies?
Joy to thee, daughter of a princely race,
For thy last dear one! Lie in her embrace —
Till shines a new star on thy raptured eyes!
Fonder of maids thou art, I trow, than she.
The ghost who nightly steal young girls, to be
In Hades of her woeful company.
This is my fair girl-garden: sweet they grow —
Rose, violet, asphodel and lily's snow;
And which the sweetest is, I do not know;
For rosy arms and starry eyes are there.
Honey-sweet voices and cheeks passing fair.
And these shall men, I ween, remember long;
For these shall bloom for ever in my song.
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