Most recent post

The Territory of the Little People - Storm Clouds Approaching

-
Image
  The Territory of the Little People - Storm Clouds Approaching The atmosphere over Pine Creek churns before it breaks. The sky stops being a distant ceiling, and tears open into a fevered, gestural vortex, churning in fierce ribbons of cadmium gold, raw ember, and bruised ink. Here, in the suffocating stillness of the build-up, the heat plays violent tricks on my inner eye. As the squall gathers, the twisting ironwoods and fractured ridges don't feel empty; they crawl with the uncanny belief of the Little People, low-slung, watchful phantoms spun from wire, red dust, and dry static, waiting out the road's fragility. Every jagged branch and swirling filament of cloud becomes a face, an arm, a sinister presence breathing inside the rising storm, drawing the traveller deeper into the delirium of the interior. Pine Creek Storm Front Torn black filaments of wind and shadow seemed to claw straight out of the atmosphere, dripping down like hot tar, twisting through the spindly ironwo...
Post a Comment

Rediscovering Inner Peace and Strength

-

 


Rediscovering Inner Peace and Strength Poem

Hey there, fellow nature lovers.  
I'm thrilled to share with you.
This is how I self-reflect.
Behind a small waterfall, 
I think about myself in this world.
In this small space, the world is majestic. 
As the water cascades down into the pool. 
It's the sound of water that never fails to silence my brain. 
The sound comforts me. 
This waterfall has become my sanctuary. 
It's here where I find solitude and peace, 
Far from the hustle and bustle of daily life. 
Amidst its tranquil surroundings, 
I can truly connect with myself and rediscover my inner strength. 
So, if you can find a small space to be with yourself,
Be sure to take some time to soak up the world's beauty.



Rediscovering Inner Peace and Strength on YouTube

Description:
Hey there, fellow nature lovers. I'm excited to share how I find peace and self-reflection behind a small waterfall. In this serene spot, I contemplate my existence in this vast world. The breathtaking scenery and the calming sound of flowing water always help quiet my mind, bringing me comfort and tranquillity. This waterfall has become my sanctuary, offering me an escape from the busyness of everyday life and a chance to truly connect with myself. Here, surrounded by peaceful nature, I rediscover my inner strength. Come join me in appreciating the world's beauty and setting aside a moment for self-reflection.

Keywords:
Solitude, Reflection, Nature sanctuary, Waterfall meditation, Inner peace, Tranquility, Self-discovery, Nature's beauty, Mindfulness, Peaceful surroundings

Hashtags:
#NatureLovers #Waterfall #InnerPeace #Solitude #SelfReflection #Tranquility #NatureSanctuary #Mindfulness #PeacefulPlace #RediscoverYourself #NatureTherapy #CalmMoments #MajesticViews #SoothingSounds #NatureBeauty







John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett, is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via Blogger, YouTube, Flicker, Facebook, Instagram and Deviant Art. 

To support my art, feel free to donate via JJFBbennett through PayPal  

If you want to acquire JJFB's art creations as an NFT - John's Opensea NFT profile is https://opensea.io/JJFBbennett  


Copyright

This artwork is protected by U.S. and International copyright laws. Distribution and/or modification of the artwork without written permission of the sponsor is prohibited.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Highway and the Lost Soldier

-
Image
The Highway and the Lost Soldier The midday sun around Adelaide River does something violent to the bitumen. At forty-five degrees, the Stuart Highway softens like melting fat; it turns into a black mirror, rippling with an unnatural, liquid glare that pools over every low rise. That is where it waits. He is always trudging south, away from life and deeper into the blistering furnace, his boots making no sound against the tar. The Highway and Lost Soldier Standing From two hundred yards out, he resembles a stranded traveler you’d pull over to save. He wears sun-bleached, disintegrating drill cotton that matches the bone-white dust of the termite country, his head angled down at an impossible, broken angle against the glare. No broad-brim hat. No swag. No water bottle. Just stiff, unnatural limbs jerking with every stride. “Driver... look at his face. We need to stop—why won't he turn around?” He is no lost tourist. Could he be the linesman from the Overland Telegraph days who tore ...
Read more

The Terminal Horizon Highway

-
Image
The Terminal Horizon Highway  The Terminal Horizon Tourist Bus Would you catch the Terminal Horizon bus? Travel sketches by metamodernist artist JJFBbennett The Long Highway Out here, the world ends not in silence, but in fire. The asphalt bleeds into cracked red earth, stretching toward a bruised horizon where the sky refuses to cool. Behind the glass, you drive chasing ghosts through a desert that forgot rain a lifetime ago. Beneath the Scorch Every road leads deeper into the furnace. Even below the surface, the rock fissures and weeps, hot steam rising through subterranean fractures where molten veins pulse in the dark, feeding an ancient, unforgiving heat. Broken Arteries What we built couldn’t hold. Rails twist into the dunes, swallowed by iron sand and wind. Bridges split down the seam, concrete splintered into raw bone, tangled rebar, and dying wires crackling into the smoke. The machines stopped; the wasteland stayed. The Last Horizon And when the road finally runs out, the...
Read more

Incandescent - Ode to the Endless Scrub

-
Image
  Incandescent - Ode to the Endless Scrub Beneath the vault of fallen light Where red dirt cools to iron stone The ancient country meets the night Unyielding, patient, and alone Cracked earth yields to twisted root To hardy bark and spinifex Where time leaves neither mark nor foot Nor petty boundaries to perplex Rank upon rank the pale trunks rise A silent host that drinks the dry Repetition stretching past the eyes To where the flat horizon lies Trees behind trees in quiet grace A labyrinth of slender wood Carving the stillness out of space Where centuries have stood Above, the sky ignites its coal A canopy of smoke and ember Holding the continent’s deep soul In dark and fiery surrender No hurried end, no measured shore Just red loam, shadow, branch, and tree The scrub that breathes forevermore Into the quiet of infinity. Be Creative and Innovative with Knowledge John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett , is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via  Blogge...
Read more