Cut by hand

Hand-Cut Mandalas and Other Intricate Paper Works by Mr. Riu

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Japanese artist Mr. Riu takes paper cutting to an intricate extreme, crafting mandalas and elaborate figures with a precision work tool called the swivel knife. This tool allows him to cut curves more fluidly, as the head of the knife can turn 360 degrees. With this movement, Riu produces asymmetrical imagery that is often filled with hidden details—winged horses that sprout from points in a star and snakes that wrap themselves around the eyes of his figural works.

Riu’s captions for his Instagram images are often inspirational and speak to the dedication and patience he has developed during his paper cutting practice. “It’s not that I can do it because I originally have a great patience,” says Riu in one of his captions, “I think that my patience grows stronger gradually because I want to do it.”

You can see more of Mr. Riu’s work on his Instagram and blog.

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One Who Waits For Us

Absolutely lovely.

Barnstorming

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When I was a child
I once sat sobbing on the floor
Beside my mother’s piano
As she played and sang
For there was in her singing
A shy yet solemn glory
My smallness could not hold

And when I was asked
Why I was crying
I had no words for it
I only shook my head
And went on crying

Why is it that music
At its most beautiful
Opens a wound in us
An ache a desolation
Deep as a homesickness
For some far-off
And half-forgotten country

I’ve never understood
Why this is so

But there’s an ancient legend
From the other side of the world
That gives away the secret
Of this mysterious sorrow

For centuries on centuries
We have been wandering
But we were made for Paradise
As deer for the forest

And when music comes to us
With its heavenly beauty
It brings us desolation

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Traveling back in time

“The Old New World” is a Photo-based animation project.
——————————————————
It’s a travel back in time with a little steampunk time machine.
The main part of this video was made with Camera projection based on photos.

Go here to see how this was done.

Light! Light!

Taking Down the Tree

“Give me some light!” cries Hamlet’s
uncle midway through the murder
of Gonzago. “Light! Light!” cry scattering
courtesans. Here, as in Denmark,
it’s dark at four, and even the moon
shines with only half a heart.

The ornaments go down into the box:
the silver spaniel, My Darling
on its collar, from Mother’s childhood
in Illinois; the balsa jumping jack
my brother and I fought over,
pulling limb from limb. Mother
drew it together again with thread
while I watched, feeling depraved
at the age of ten.

With something more than caution
I handle them, and the lights, with their
tin star-shaped reflectors, brought along
from house to house, their pasteboard
toy suitcase increasingly flimsy.
Tick, tick, the desiccated needles drop.

By suppertime all that remains is the scent
of balsam fir. If it’s darkness
we’re having, let it be extravagant.

“Taking Down the Tree” by Jane Kenyon from Collected Poems. © Graywolf Press, 2005.   (buy now)

Originally posted here.

When music comes to us

Have always loved this poem.

Music

When I was a child
I once sat sobbing on the floor
Beside my mother’s piano
As she played and sang
For there was in her singing
A shy yet solemn glory
My smallness could not hold

And when I was asked
Why I was crying
I had no words for it
I only shook my head
And went on crying

Why is it that music
At its most beautiful
Opens a wound in us
An ache a desolation
Deep as a homesickness
For some far-off
And half-forgotten country

I’ve never understood
Why this is so

But there’s an ancient legend
From the other side of the world
That gives away the secret
Of this mysterious sorrow

For centuries on centuries
We have been wandering
But we were made for Paradise
As deer for the forest

And when music comes to us
With its heavenly beauty
It brings us desolation
For when we hear it
We half remember
That lost native country

We dimly remember the fields
Their fragrant windswept clover
The birdsongs in the orchards
The wild white violets in the moss
By the transparent streams

And shining at the heart of it
Is the longed-for beauty
Of the One who waits for us
Who will always wait for us
In those radiant meadows

Yet also came to live with us
And wanders where we wander.

“Music” by Anne Porter from Living Things. © Zoland Books, 2006. Reprinted with permission.  (buy now)

Christmas hath a beauty

from Christmas Eve by Christina Rossetti

Christmas hath darkness
Brighter than the blazing noon,
Christmas hath a chillness
Warmer than the heat of June,
Christmas hath a beauty
Lovelier than the world can show:
For Christmas bringeth Jesus,
Brought for us so low.

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