We are just a drop of dew Picture

Idea of this artwork comes with the poetry wrote down below. General meaning of my artwork is that how much we try to tell to the world that we are more superior than animals or plants we are forgetting that we are nothing compared to them. Mother Earth is every time our mother, and yes! It all comes from the old cultures we are seeing as barbaric. That is the reason why this fetus have the long hair. I've heard that in Slavic mythology, when child is born with the long blond hair (very rare phenomenon) it is a VILA (the some creature between fairy and forest nymph). And besides all of our culture, tradition, Mother Earth... We are all so small that all of that is just a drop of dew comparing to the universe we live in.

Ideja ovog djela je nastala sa poeziom ispod. Potpuno značenje ove slike jeste da mi toliko pokušavamo dokazati da smo superiorniji od životinja i biljaka, ali smo zapravo ništa u odnosu na njih. Majka Zemlja jeste naša majka, i da! I ovo razmišljanje dolazi iz područja kulture koju smatramo barbarskom. Zbog toga fetus na slici ima dugu plavu kosu jer se smatralo po slavenskoj mitologiji da kada se rodi ovakvo dijete (što je jako rijedak fenomen) da se ono smatra vilom. No pored sve naše kulture, tradicije, pa čak i Majke Zemlje mi smo samo kapljica rose u odnosu na svemir!

The tale has begun …

In the land where the streams where deep and blue
When the sky was still there to watch over you
And daily life was just like it was
No mind seemed blank like in current rush it does

Turn around on days of yore when truth gets sore ‘n mayhem starts war

In the wise words of the old man stays the ecstasy you forgot
By wanting more you lose soul, get foul, get possessed by the ego
Loiter when you think you reach goal, sink when seems lift up from your hole

Don’t avoid your roots; they are no bounding mass to heave your neck
Former believes can’t make regress, wouldn’t set you off your track
Stories ancient times bred, those aren’t just a stupid tale,
Are base of each right train of thoughts, aren’t like the void you sell

Look in the eyes of past,
Amazed stare at all you used to hate
It builds up your dome

Look in the sea of memories,
No false heresies
Those are bricks of your soul

Never hinder ancient thoughts from being displayed in daylight
As remains infamy holds you yearn to conceal them from sight
Rod set roads to let you walk on as the sun its guard keeps
Why should those who trust in this god be less worth than today’s’ greed?

See how man gets lost in mundane, walks on those putrid lanes
Rotten by the lack of hope while fantasy is seen with scorn
Where are brave hearts, will ‘n honor, where are they under this thrill?
Your swarm denies beauty of mind, puts aside all dreams, you’re blind

Drained thoughts are worthless houses; tribes are bare behind their walls
Man with no past stands on quicksand; nothing tells him what is wrong
Welcome back the ground, a shore, where you can find right ways like yore
With no legends to guide your acts, you naively redo ancestors’ blunders

Do a moonlight flit out of this life you used to be in
Greet the sun you see as real one, greet what you falsely did see
Do a moonlight flit out of the borders you have set yourself
Open ears to hear the tale, clever song brought by the past…

Of weeping wind and mist in fields
Is made the call of the past
Of weeping wind and mist
Hear how it wants to be brought back…

Poetry by: Nemanja Kuzmanović
Continue Reading: Sun