Art by Leah Piken Kolidas
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Anesidora's heart was full of a fire and passion the world would never know. For her father was Stone and her mother was Ice and her genes predetermined the sunken face in her mirror. Her hair was white, her lips a deep lapis and her stare could freeze your blood. It was rumored that an unfortunate courtier had once brushed her flesh in passing and his heart stopped mid-beat.
Ane's days were lonely and long. No one had heard the alabaster princess speak in over a decade and so the villagers began whispering of a mute beauty who lived in a castle of ice...
If only the people could hear her singing behind those walls. Were they truly composed of snow and crystal, the walls would melt. Her voice was her fire, her words were of Spring and Anesidora was the key to the lush green fields and plentiful flora of the land.
The only price was her solitude. The only oath was her secrecy... so...
shhh...
tell no one.
~ Sarah
We were so very privileged to share with Leah this day posting each other's blogs and finding new friends to create with. Thank you to all the artists and writers for expressing their creativity.
One week after the photo or picture is posted I will pick one offering to put beneath the image. This is a way of celebrating exceptional creativity. Any and all posts are available for your creative mind to make an offering at any time (even ones where a writing has been placed on the front page like this one). If you are new here and want to offer to every image here, feel free. We are writers, WRITE! If this is your exceptional writing posted here on the Front Page Pictures, Poetry & Prose invites you to include the Exceptional Writing Award Button on your blog. Visit the Exceptional Writing Award post for the details and the button to download.
23 comments:
Five people, three paths to follow, one right answer. Who holds the key to their happiness?
Be careful because the wrong answers lead to nothing but...eternal cloudiness.
I really like this artwork. I'll have to mosey over and see some more.
Please dear lady, unlock the door.
We've waited so long, need Spring to explore.
White ground, grey skies, icy hills; we're through.
Please turn it, dear lady, we're in need of some new.
The key that you hold will turn with a twist.
Please do so dear lady, do motion your wrist.
What thoughts do you think, as you wait on the hours?
Dear lady please tell us, it is time for the flowers.
A bit pitiful am I, as I bother you so.
Dear lady, dig deep; find compassion to grow.
It is not just I, who pleads such a case.
Dear lady, for many are in need of some grace.
Please, dear lady, unlock the door.
We've waited so long, need Spring to explore.
White ground, grey skies, icy hills; we're through.
Please turn it, dear lady, we're in need of some new.
~ I suppose it sounds more like the key to Spring, huh? Well either way...it is what it is ;o).
Beautiful wintery artwork! I love it!
The key to winter is to accept her glacial beauty for what it is ..the still time. It is okay to be still... for a time.
(Thanks for honoring the lovely Leah's work on your great site ! This is my first visit.I learned of you from her blog. I will be back!)
Designing my life.
Warming intentions gone cold and buried.
Truly beautiful art Leah. This is a very appropriate picture for me to see this morning. I have been living winter for the last week. After a major ice storm with no electric or internet I am very glad to be back!
The artwork to me reflects the blues whites and grays of winter and the fairyland feeling of the beauties of a cold crisp winter's day after a pristine snowfall yet undisturbed by a human presence.
Dan
@ Dan...welcome back to the e-world! ;) I love your description of the photo. Very nice!
Sharp, chilled forms
surround a beauty
who looks boldly out
as she breaks the cold.
Anesidora's heart was full of a fire and passion the world would never know. For her father was Stone and her mother was Ice and her genes predetermined the sunken face in her mirror. Her hair was white, her lips a deep lapis and her stare could freeze your blood. It was rumored that an unfortunate courtier had once brushed her flesh in passing and his heart stopped mid-beat.
Ane's days were lonely and long. No one had heard the alabaster princess speak in over a decade and so the villagers began whispering of a mute beauty who lived in a castle of ice...
If only the people could hear her singing behind those walls. Were they truly composed of snow and crystal, the walls would melt. Her voice was her fire, her words were of Spring and Anesidora was the key to the lush green fields and plentiful flora of the land.
The only price was her solitude. The only oath was her secrecy... so...
shhh...
tell no one.
We are so very priviledged here at PP&P to share and exchange such beauty with Leah. I was thrilled when she emailed me with this request to be a part of her wonderful site.
Already such incredible writing here.
My heart is full of joy this morning.
Thank you so much, Laura! I'm so pleased with this sharing between our blogs. Thank you for sharing my art here! What a treat!
I absolutely love the writing. So much inspiration. Words that could inspire art and art that could inspire words. It's a beautiful thing!!
A silent hush settles on the air
Stillness exhales a wave of peace
Winter quiet fills the earth and sky
Shades of blue and gray reflect
Upon the brilliant snow-laden land
Roots lie resting within the frozen soil
When winter dark and cold seem endless
Remember, even a birds journey to summer
Holds space for rest and renewal
The lotus blossomed at her feet, and flowers surrounded her. Thistle, daisy, chrysanthemum. Tree branches stretched out their arms to envelope her, but she remained just out of their reach, pristine, cool, and dignified. Frozen sunlight danced through the morning air, splintering into prisms as she glided across the earth. A shadow-bird ruffled his feathers nearby, keeping watch over her shoulder. A woodland thrush chirrupped his perky greeting as he nestled in the loose leaves and twigs at her feet.
She was a striking image in the frozen landscape, bundled in her blue velvet bodice, warm beneath her long heavy wool skirt. Subdued, but festive, the blue-green accents on her charcoal skirt gave her a lively air, though her quiet respect for the land around her permeated her every step.
She breathed deeply of the morning air, letting its freshness fill the corners of her lungs. She exhaled, watching as the fog created by the warmth of her breath shone in the morning sun.
“The key to winter,” she had said to her husband, as she walked out the door, “is enjoying it while it is here.” She savored these days of brightness, of fresh snow and pastel twilight. She knew winter was a rare gift of sapphire, of frozen heat, and unacknowledged life.
Laura Jayne- I am so glad that you and Leah found each other! Both of you are favorites in my eyes...
I love Simply Heather's poem. Awesome!
Here is my attempt:
She Holds the Key to Winter
The barren branches dance with the opal moon
caressing her
in a slowly choreographed
stationary
pas de deux
arms of a scratchy lover
reaching round her middle
beckoning Luna close
to bask in her deep luminescent
afterglow
You hold the key, they say
What is there to unlock? Luna asks
with the hint of a smile.
The trees in solitary confinement
whisper through their branches
Set us free
Open our buds to the steel blue sky
We lie in wait
dormant
for the day you release us
from your frosty gaze,
your distant touch
Waiting for the day when
our roots thread the dirt
grasping all the earth has to offer
erupting in a crown of emeralds
to tickle the
clouds and
hide the birds
seeking sanctuary
She moves away from their driftwood fingers
Feeling abandoned by the strong arms of
Her silent sentries
You don’t know me then, she says
You don’t know what power I have
I leave you to wait in
silent stillness
while you wonder why my
golden brother
has abandoned you
and when he
will return.
She moves away
Their arms chase along the ground
grasping for her
longing to touch her once again
holding on to nothing but
bittersweet dreams of
spring
Enjoy the day!
Erin
Our key to growth remains rooted in the earth. Love forms underground as the winter winds blow our thoughts to the universe. My shadow casts a mystery unfolding.
I am free as a bird to explore my roots.
I am in control of what I choose to adopt as my legacy.
My roots are deep, and strong and will support me wherever I want to fly.
Because I believe it's so. So it is.
Thank you, TesoriTrovati...but I absolutely LOVE yours! Really I do :o).
circled in blue
safe, wild
reflections of me
I see in you
I feel a chill run through me
as I sense that I am completely alone.
Then I look into your creation,
it mirrors my soul,
it resonates within,
Suddenly I am warm
A moment of stillness,
You hold the key to all that is, and will be,
Waiting,
Looking at me,
Knowing that this moment
Remains still,
With promise
Of Spring.
She stood smiling waiting to turn the key. Only a few more moments and she would release it. She had waited all year for the return of winter. Longed for the opportunity to turn the key. Now she stood prepared to unleash it. The first snow of the winter.
Winter is icy blue. Winter is a tall, slim woman, sometimes wearing furs. Winter is a naked tree, a lone blackbird, a prime number. Winter is swirls of snowflakes. Winter is life buried below ground in the caverns, among the roots of trees. Waiting.
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