The elongated shadow of the child, barely touching the ground, seems to carry the weight of memories he has yet to live. In front of him, the empty swing creaks, as if the wind itself were plucking the invisible strings of memory. Everything around him is tinged with a gentle melancholy, while the evening light wraps the scene, caught between the branches of the trees, as if time had stopped, right at that moment when innocence meets silence. The past feels like an echo, invisible but present in every corner. The empty bench, desolate and covered with withered leaves, waits, as if the past had left footprints that no one else can fill. The child looks ahead, but the diffused light whispers stories of what was and will no longer be, while the shadows seem to stretch with the passing of time. There’s a quiet sadness in the air, where childhood slowly fades, and the present feels like a distant reflection of what was once certain but has now disappeared into the mist of memory.

At the top of the mountain, where sunlight filters through the clouds like whispered gold, there lies a space seemingly suspended in time. The peaks rise toward the sky with solemn calm, as if they guard ancient secrets known only to the wind. There, in the stillness of the heights, the landscape breathes a deep silence, filled with an invisible force—subtle as the air, but present in every corner. As the first rays of dawn light the slopes, the mountain seems to come alive. There are no voices, no echoes from the world below, only the soft melody of the wind brushing against the rocks. It is a place where words fall short, where all that remains is feeling, and in that feeling, one finds themselves part of something greater, something ancient and eternal.

The hills stretch like a gentle whisper, undulating across a landscape that seems to have no end. The sunlight, barely filtering through the clouds, softly touches the tall grass and distant trees, casting delicate shadows that slowly lengthen, as if time itself were part of the land. In this vast scene, silence is a natural melody, where every curve, every rise, seems to hold a story that can only be understood by those who stop to listen. The wind glides through the valleys, connecting the whispers of the mountains with the secrets the river carries toward the horizon. In the stillness of this view, one cannot help but feel small—not insignificant, but connected to something greater, something eternal. The cool air and golden afternoon light invite you to close your eyes for a moment and let your soul breathe deeply, merging with the landscape, as if for an instant, all boundaries between yourself and nature disappear.

Time flows like a gentle tide through the empty rooms, tracing an invisible but constant course, marked by silent waves that ripple across the floor. Rays of light filter through open windows, illuminating the unseen path these waves of time follow, as if memory itself had taken liquid form, gliding between the walls. Every corner, every shadow, seems to hold echoes of what once was and continues to linger at the edges of our awareness. Time, in its silence, becomes visible, undulating, whispering, leaving its mark on everything it touches. As you observe this still space, the passage of time feels tangible, as though it is suspended in the air. There is no rush, no urgency, only the certainty that time continues its course at its own pace, tracing a map of experiences and moments that blur between light and shadow. The waves of time move on, transforming the ethereal into something palpable, but always fleeting, always in motion.

Two ethereal figures meet in a space filled with soft, diffused light, their forms appearing to be made of wind and whispers. Their wings unfold in a silent embrace as the air around them seems to vibrate with a serene, almost celestial energy. There is a moment of connection between them, as if their souls are dancing in the void, forming a bridge of light that unites the intangible with the sacred. In their encounter, there are no words, only a profound exchange that transcends the human and the tangible. It is a moment suspended in time, where stillness and movement intertwine, creating perfect harmony. The light they emit not only illuminates the space but seems to warm the soul. The feeling is one of absolute peace, of reconciliation with something larger, something deeper. These figures seem like guardians of something ancient, something that resides in the innermost part of every being. Watching them, one feels a strange mix of awe and comfort, as if, in their presence, all fears dissolve, leaving only the purity of spiritual connection. In this place, everything is soft, everything is kind, and the heart feels lighter, knowing that in the silence, in the light, something eternal awaits to be embraced.

October arrives with a golden light filtering through the trees, illuminating the fallen leaves that carpet the ground. The air, cool but not yet cold, seems to whisper the passage of time, as shadows stretch long, drawing uncertain shapes along the path. It is a month of transition, of soft farewells, where the world is painted in warm tones even as the cold begins to creep over the horizon. Every step crunches under the weight of dry leaves, like an echo of summer fading away, and the nostalgia for what is leaving blends with the serenity of the present. Autumn, in its fullness, invites introspection. October is in no hurry; it is a sigh between seasons, a moment where time seems to slow. There is a perfect balance in the air between light and shadow, life and rest. The bare trees hold a solemn silence, and the entire landscape seems to prepare for the slumber, for the long sleep of winter. It is a month that teaches the beauty of change, where every falling leaf is a reminder that life, always in motion, also needs moments of stillness and reflection.

Standing before the mirror, the figure watching me feels like a stranger, yet also a familiar shadow. There is something profound in that vacant gaze, something that reflects more than just my image; it echoes who I was and who I no longer am. The room behind me fades into the dimness, like memories floating and dissolving as time passes. The silence is as dense as the air, filled with unanswered questions and reflections that tell stories of absence. The mirror doesn’t lie, but it doesn’t reveal everything either. It only shows what I want to see, what I fear to confront. Each blurred contour is a window to the past, and as I observe it, I feel myself drowning in that stillness. A suspended moment where identities blur, where the reflection and the self merge, and in the end, I no longer know who is watching whom.

The child frolics along the shore, where the sea kisses the earth in its endless rhythm. Every wave that rises beneath his feet seems to invite him to fly, to feel the weight of life disappear in that moment of pure joy. The sky, in shades of gold and blue, merges with the water, creating a space where anything is possible, where the boundaries between sky and sea dissolve. The sun’s reflection on the water gently embraces the scene, wrapping it in a soft, warm light, as the child leaps, suspended between the freedom of the ocean and the vastness of the horizon. In that moment, time seems to stand still. There is no sound but the whisper of the water, the echo of waves gently breaking against the shore. The child, with the carefree spirit of youth, plays in silent dialogue with the sea, as if both understood the beauty of the fleeting. Innocence and vastness intertwine in this corner of the world, where each wave is a promise of what is yet to come, and each leap a tribute to the present moment.

October arrives with a golden light filtering through the trees, illuminating the fallen leaves that carpet the ground. The air, cool but not yet cold, seems to whisper the passage of time, as shadows stretch long, drawing uncertain shapes along the path. It is a month of transition, of soft farewells, where the world is painted in warm tones even as the cold begins to creep over the horizon. Every step crunches under the weight of dry leaves, like an echo of summer fading away, and the nostalgia for what is leaving blends with the serenity of the present. Autumn, in its fullness, invites introspection. October is in no hurry; it is a sigh between seasons, a moment where time seems to slow. There is a perfect balance in the air between light and shadow, life and rest. The bare trees hold a solemn silence, and the entire landscape seems to prepare for the slumber, for the long sleep of winter. It is a month that teaches the beauty of change, where every falling leaf is a reminder that life, always in motion, also needs moments of stillness and reflection.

SPI version

This musical piece is a tranquil ambient track that transports the listener to a state of peace and reflection. The composition is based on piano accompanied by evocative strings, which together create an ethereal atmosphere flowing like the river in the image. The harmonies intertwine subtly, evolving slowly, with layers of ambient synthesizers and soft echoes representing the passage of time, from dawn to dusk. The presence of prolonged and repetitive chords suggests the idea of infinity and continuity, reflecting the loops and spirals in the cosmos, The result is a musical piece that captures the essence of tranquility and harmony, offering a listening experience that is both meditative and inspiring, ideal for moments of introspection and deep relaxation.

graficos punto cruz, the cabin by the river, la cabaña junto al rio, cross stitch pattern

graficos punto cruz, the cabin by the river, la cabaña junto al rio, cross stitch pattern

graficos punto cruz, the cabin by the river, la cabaña junto al rio, cross stitch pattern

graficos punto cruz, the cabin by the river, la cabaña junto al rio, cross stitch pattern

En mi declaración de artista presentada en medios electrónicos el 1ero de Marzo, por medio del canal de: Youtube": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cKoVsBBk9rY. (como primicia) Presentó la obra: "Folded". Obra plástica, repercusión de una introspección que realicé acerca de mi trayectoria desde mis inicios. Siendo ésta obra "detonante" o consecuencia de un análisis profundo acerca mi devenir en la temática de "representación de personalidad de aves". Donde encuentro: "La libertad" como un hilo conductor en mi trayectoria como artista feminista. Obras participantes dentro de: "Jackson's Art Prize" (2024), donde hago mi declaración como artista igualmente.

LOVE COFFEE ELEPHANT HEART BY MASANSER DISEÑO QUE REPRESENTA UN ELEFANTE INSPIRADO EN LA CREMA DE UN CAFE CON UNOS CORAZONES CENTRALES Y EN LA TROMPA, DISEÑO PREPARADO PARA VENDER EN TIENDAS DE IMPRESION BAJO DEMANDA EL DISEÑO HA SIDO CREADO POR MIGUEL ANGEL ANGEL SANCHEZ SERRANO

Meditaciones guiadas para conectar con los elementos que hay en tu interior. Crecimiento personal. Relajación.

Meditaciones guiadas para conectar con los elementos que hay en tu interior. Crecimiento personal. Relajación.