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green walls perimeter, in the sense of many different greens combined together as only the Balinese painters tired, weakened del sole incombente, possono fare.

Avete presente quegli impressionisti che lasciano il segno della pennellata sulla tela, ecco, anche qui gli imbianchini usano una tecnica au plain air per coprire i muri grigi d’intonaco. Larghe pennellate puntano in ogni direzione, l’importante è che la densità del colore sia invariabilmente insufficiente a coprire uniformemente lo sfondo. Se a questa pittura affrettata s’aggiunge un intonaco sbeccato e non riparato o strisce di cemento in rilievo su lunghe crepe irregolari, allora sì che l’opera d’arte si delinea in tutta la sua complessità. Ed ecco spiegati “i” verdi del muro.

Questo was the first visual contact with the house. A small green casket surrounded by high walls. Then the sky covered by the pool, coupled with beautiful green, clearly not wanted. And the white of the limestone that surrounds that sky diving. Just beyond the white tile floors and cream colored walls earnest. All around, another green, spotted the bright colors of tropical plants that inhabit the garden, heliconia, Dracena, hibiscus, frangipani, bamboo.

Here, our new home, a palette in the hands of the most spiritual of painters. Can only be dedicated to the goddess Saraswati, the patron of every art form.

Abbiamo subito ottenuto di allargare le pareti color crema per limitare la prepotenza dei verdi. All’esterno, ora, il muro si presenta cremoso alla vaniglia, e lascia i verdi alla sorpresa di chi entra in giardino. Poi, al verde impressionista sovrapporremo il verde vellutato del ficus rampicante e, chissà, alcune statue bianche dialogheranno col temperamento imperioso della tinta erba della parete di fondo, oltre la piscina.

Palme ancora piccole lasciano intendere future zone d’ombra e il solario in stanghe di legno, che avvolge la piscina, s’accende d’una nota cioccolato al raro sole di gennaio.

generous kitchen and living room were opened and the pool is not hard to imagine sprawled on a sofa with teak Javanese busily gazing dreamily statues, bubbling waters and lush greenery.

The bathrooms are partly open, as used here. The strong tropical storms, which sometimes beat the winter skies of Bali, have led us to put a roof to avoid unwanted accumulation of water on the floor. The discharge water only leads outside, between the gravel road. It 's a highway for mice that will long to visit us: it means that we will put a toll booth.

Made Mirta, il proprietario, ha nelle mani solo il ricordo dei calli forgiati lavorando nelle risaie che gli appartenevano, ora ben al di sotto delle ville che possiede al loro posto. La stretta è esile, come quella dei nostri contadini, timorosi di far del male a dispiegare tutta la loro potenza muscolare. Le gambe, ancora muscolose, rimandano a quando avanzava con fatica nel fango fino alle ginocchia, spingendo l’aratro dietro al suo bufalo preferito.

Il colmo del tetto ospita una fila ininterrotta di galli in terracotta, in atteggiamento vigile verso il sole che nasce. Spero non cantino ogni mattina tutti assieme.

Sarà uno spasso.

Images Of Egg White Cervical Mucus

our ghosts

E’ fuori dubbio, lo vedo. L’ospedale ti trasforma, cambia il tuo corpo. Anche solo poche ore e la metamorfosi ha inizio. La pelle impallidisce, diventa diafana. La voce s’affievolisce, un poco roca. I gesti rallentano, le mani tremano leggermente. Il corpo s’appiattisce, i rilievi a poco a poco scompaiono sotto le lenzuola candide, come un campo dopo un’intensa nevicata.

Anche il lume della ragione s’appassisce e una curiosità di solito viva si trasforma nel suo ricordo. Le domande che dovresti porre nascono già stanche e in ritardo.

Ti nutri di liquidi incolori, pappe opalescent. The light is faint, muffled sounds, you fall into a lifeless limbo.

A spectrum.

The spectra are not the dead come back, they are alive, still flesh and blood, only processed here.

the sick, people are unresolved, are prisoners of this white slime that fills the rooms of a hospital. And 'their existence is not yet defined that we displace, shake it, it creeps into our thoughts and generates fear. They evoke our deepest fears when, with hair standing, we heard a noise in the dark. Or a cold shiver in a sunny day.

are patients whose condition was suspended makes us uncomfortable, malicious creeps into our lives and well defined. We do not know how to handle them, our fantasies.

Many resume their color and their physicality, others do not make it disappear and become invisible. Once concluded and resolved their way sick, "eeriness", or are or are not. However cease to be shadows. Here they are our ghosts, and they have fear. Not death, that our friend is sincere, frank, solver. Neither of life, which gives us no respite, that we ride to spur beaten.

E 'in limbo as we fear, and the people it employs diaphanous rooms.

Starwars Waffle Maker

"Your passport, please", but the brain does not register this simple question, trapped in identifying an incredible array of turquoise emerald. They are the eyes of the nurse turns to me, laid on a smile that I hope is not a fact, goes so well with their iridescent tones. They look like fragments of a shell of who has the appropriate emerald sea of \u200b\u200bthe equatorial zone with halos of a turquoise peacock feather.

I understand now how the eyes can speak. I hold my breath like a charm.

Kate Playground Follando

eyes the way the funeral

Asphalt is a deception, is the false promise of an order inviolable. It 's a misleading certainty. In Indonesia, the road begins to be violated. E 'permeable, is loose network that lets all the fish. Nor is it "ribbon of asphalt," because the strip is frayed, stops, narrows, widens to serve the needs of those who are on its board. Nor is the asphalt matter that distinguishes it. If there is stone, is in stone, if there is dust to dust. But it can be made of a river, as the round stone and mobile dry bed of a stream, which for years has destroyed the bridge that crosses it, in a burst of fullness. The entropy of stones is more solid than a bridge, sooner or later, collapse it again. However, if it is made of asphalt, bitumen is a poor, dilapidated one, gets depressed, he breaks through. Emerges from under his rough substance, such as wounds that bled gray sand and gravel.

The road is an idea for longitudinal distances, net, without hesitation. The idea here is corrupt by nature imperious and a vanishing way of life, confused, uncertain, but able to adapt to alternate routes, detours needed. The people of Equatorial appropriated malleability acquired by this idea and the perfect blend in as I ask, making anything, essential imperfection, mutation.

Here, the road is the evolution of species Indonesian road as it incorporates the many variations of form and function, giving rise to a new endemism. Polymorphism blend perfectly adapted. A path without direction.

anyone here use the road as an indicator of the direction and the numbers are unnecessary. Since the road trip, valid only cardinal directions, east, north. And relativity near here, on this side, not far away.

In Bali, the situation per il viaggiatore si complica per le undici direzioni che si sovrappongono ai punti cardinali. Qui vige il concetto di “verso la Grande Montagna”, ( kaja ) che talvolta è nord, talaltra è sudest, ma non è verso sù. All’opposto, ma in senso relativo, c’è “verso il mare”, ( kelod ) che mescola timori atavici, scorrere d’acque a valle, immensità esoterica dell’oceano.

“Dov’è il tempio?”. “Non lontano da qui, ad oriente, ma dall’altro lato e poi verso kaja ”.