Like the ancient poet Korinna I am an artist, a dreamer and a very sensitive person and by my art I share my dreams and my deepest feelings the way she did in her poems and like Pygmalion I __try to create my Galatea and give her life by my passion.I love art and all the beauty of this world from delicate flowers that bloom on fields to distant stars and galaxies

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Sunt mandra sa port numele poetei Korinna poeta ce a __trait in Grecia antica si precum Sappho a scris poezie lirica si la fel cum o facea ea in versurile ei, prin pictura eu imi exprim cele mai profunde ganduri si sentimente.La fel ca si sculptorul Pygmalion eu prin arta imi caut propria Galatee si incerc sa ii dau viata cu ajutorul pasiunii mele

Siturile de mai jos contin desenele si picturile mele

Cel mai nou site cu desenele si picturile mele

Site pe Geocities

Site pe piczo, contine aproape toate desenele si picturile mele

CORinAZONe

Situl meu pe Neogen

â"¥CORinAZONeâ"¥-Pagina mea de Yahoo 360

Pictura

Desenul

Artele frumoase

Astronomia

Universul

Viata pe Marte

Cydonia

Fenomenul OZN

Calatoria in timp

Clonarea

Fenomene paranormale

Efectul de piramida

Piramidele

Cristalele

Istoria antica

Dacii

First of all I am interested in visual arts.I've discovered this passion for visual arts such as drawing and painting by the year 2000, when I was 13-14.I've always been fascinated by the beauty and the mysteries of the universe.The universe with it's wonderful galaxies,supernovas, nebulas, stars planets and other objects inspires me.My other great interest is astronomy. I am inspired by the Greek mythology too.I have a zodiac inspired from the Greek mythology,,paintings of characters like Andromeda, Afrodita giving life to Galatea and Kore(the maiden aspect of the goddess Persephone) and paintings of the ancient poets Corinna from Tanagra, Erinna and Sappho. I am interested in paranormal phenomena such as pyramid effect, ghosts, time travel, UFOs and alien life too. I really thing there was life on Mars in the Past, the Cydonia pyramid and face on mars are one of the traces of the lost civilization on Mars.

Tiesto,

Kirsty Hawkshaw

Ferry Corsten,

Lasgo,

Sylver,

Robbie Rivera

Current Favorite Artists / Bands:

Favorite Song:

Tiesto-Just be

ARMIN BAN BUUREN - Perpetuous Dreamer - The Sound Of Goodbye

Favorite Album: Lasgo-Somethings Favorite Music Video:

Lasgo-Something

X-Files

Mission to Mars

UFOs & Paranormal Phenomena - Message From Another Dimension

Mihai Eminescu,

Poezia de mai jos, Dorinta de Mihai Eminescu a fost sursa de inspiratie a primelor mele desene si picturi

Vino-n codru la izvorul
Care tremură pe prund,
Unde prispa cea de brazde
Crengi plecate o ascund.

Şi în braţele-mi întinse
Să alergi, pe piept să-mi cazi,
Să-ţi desprind din creştet vălul,
Să-l ridic de pe obraz.

Pe genunchii mei şedea-vei,
Vom fi singuri-singurei,
Iar în păr înfiorate
Or să-ţi cadă flori de tei.

Fruntea albă-n părul galben
Pe-al meu braţ încet s-o culci,
Lăsând pradă gurii mele
Ale tale buze dulci...

Vom visa un vis ferice,
Îngâna-ne-vor c-un cânt
Singuratece izvoare,
Blânda batere de vânt;

Adormind de armonia
Codrului bătut de gânduri,
Flori de tei deasupra noastră
Or să cadă rânduri-rânduri

>,

The poetry of Sappho

On the throne of many hues, Immortal Aphrodite,
child of Zeus, weaving wiles--I beg you
not to subdue my spirit, Queen,
with pain or sorrow

but come--if ever before
having heard my voice from far away
you listened, and leaving your father's
golden home you came

in your chariot yoked with swift, lovely
sparrows bringing you over the dark earth
thick-feathered wings swirling down
from the sky through mid-air

arriving quickly--you, Blessed One,
with a smile on your unaging face
asking again what have I suffered
and why am I calling again

and in my wild heart what did I most wish
to happen to me: "Again whom must I persuade
back into the harness of your love?
Sappho, who wrongs you?

For if she flees, soon she'll pursue,
she doesn't accept gifts, but she'll give,
if not now loving, soon she'll love
even against her will."

Come to me now again, release me from
this pain, everything my spirit longs
to have fulfilled, fulfill, and you
be my ally

--Translated by Diane Rayor

The poetry of Corinna(Korinna) from Tanagra

The daughters of Asopos

Three of your daughters seized
Father Zeus, the ruler in all;
Three husband became of the sea
Man, Poseidon; Apoll has two
Gave to his camp;

Hermes, Maia's brave son,
if took the ninth one. Cupid and also
Aphrodite pressed
Those gods, from your house
To rob of nine daughters.

These bring to the world Half
To gods the same heroic gender,
With many children and rühmlich and never
Ageing. - Those told of me
Words of wisdom the tripod.

Now I held this honourary post
From fifty brothers first,
Grown up in the holy one
Temple serving and without lies,
I, Akraipheus, the seer.

Letos son trusted the post
Of the oracles Oionymos in,
That of the tripod tells the word.
Then him chased away Hyrieus,
As second came to the post,

Of the Poseidon son. Then received,
When he won the land, again
Orion, my father, the post.
Now he inhabits the heaven; I
If became heir of the post.

Erinna, Ovid, Ancient poetry, Mitologie geaca,Greek mythology

Terpsichore [told] me

lovely old tales to sing

to the white-robed women of Tanagra

and the city delighted greatly

in my voice, clear as the swallow's.

Since whenever great . . .

false . . .

. . . land with wide dancing-places,

and stories from our fathers' time

by my art adorned

for the young women [I'll begin].

Many times I adorned

the leader Kephisos with stories --

often, too, the great Orion

and his fifty strong sons

from his mingling with nymphs

. . . Libya . . .

*

I tell of the girl . . .

lovely to see . . .

the [land] bears . . .

. . . I bore . . .

by Corinna, the ancient boetian poet

YGMALION loathing their lascivious Life,

Abhorred all Womankind, but most a Wife:

So single chose to live, and shunned to wed,

Well pleased to want a Consort of his Bed.

Yet fearing Idleness, the Nurse of Ill,

In Sculpture exercised his happy Skill;

And carved in Ivory such a Maid, so fair,

As Nature could not with his Art compare,

Were she to work; but in her own Defence,

Must take her Pattern here, and copy hence.

Pleased with his Idol, he commends, admires,

Adores; and last, the Thing adored, desires.

A very Virgin in her Face was seen,

And she had moved, a living Maid had been:

One would have thought she could have stirred; but strove

With Modesty, and was ashamed to move.

Art hid with Art, so well performed the Cheat,

It caught the Carver with his own Deceit:

He knows 'tis Madness, yet he must adore,

And still the more he knows it, loves the more:

The Flesh, or what so seems, he touches oft,

Which feels so smooth, that he believes it soft.

Fired with his Thought, at once he strained the Breast,

And on the Lips a burning Kiss impressed.

'Tis true, the hardened Breast resists the Gripe,

And the cold Lips return a Kiss unripe:

But when, retiring back, he looked again,

To think it Ivory, was a thought too mean:

So would believe she kissed, and courting more,

Again embraced her naked Body o'er;

And straining hard the Statue, was afraid

His Hands had made a Dint, and hurt his Maid:

Explored her, Limb by Limb, and feared to find

So rude a Gripe had left a livid Mark behind

With Flatt'ry now he seeks her Mind to move,

And now with Gifts (the powerful bribe of Love):

He furnishes her Closet first; and fills

The crowded Shelves with Rarities of Shells;

Adds Orient Pearls, which from the Conches he drew,

And all the sparkling Stones of various Hue:

And Parrots, imitating Human Tongue,

And singing-birds in Silver Cages hung;

And ev'ry fragrant Flower, and odorous Green,

Were sorted well, with Lumps of Amber laid between:

Rich, fashionable Robes her person Deck:

Pendants her Ears, and Pearls adorn her neck:

Her tapered Fingers too With Rings are graced,

And an embroidered Zone surrounds her slender Waist.

Thus like a Queen arrayed, so richly dressed,

Beauteous she shewed, but naked shewed the best.

Then, from the Floor, he raised a Royal Bed,

With Cov'rings of Sydonian Purple spread:

The Solemn Rites performed, he calls her Bride,

With Blandishments invites her to his Side,

And as she were with Vital Sense possessed,

Her Head did on a plumy Pillow rest.

The Feast of Venus came, a Solemn Day,

To which the Cypriots due Devotion pay;

With gilded Horns the milk-white Heifers led,

Slaughtered before the sacred Altars, bled:

Pygmalion offering, first approached the Shrine,

And then with Pray'rs implored the Powers Divine:

Almighty Gods, if all we Mortals want,

If all we can require, be yours to grant;

Make this fair Statue mine, he would have said,

But changed his Words for shame; and only prayed,

Give me the likeness of my Ivory Maid.

The Golden Goddess, present at the Prayer,

Well knew he meant th' inanimated Fair,

And gave the Sign of granting his Desire;

For thrice in cheerful Flames ascends the Fire.

The Youth, returning to his Mistress, hies,

And, impudent in Hope, with ardent Eyes,

And beating Breast, by the dear Statue lies.

He kisses her white Lips, renews the Bliss,

And looks and thinks they redden at the Kiss:

He thought them warm before: Nor longer stays,

But next his Hand on her hard Bosom lays:

Hard as it was, beginning to relent,

It seemed, the Breast beneath his Fingers bent;

He felt again, his Fingers made a Print,

'Twas Flesh, but Flesh so firm, it rose against the Dint:

The pleasing Task he fails not to renew;

Soft, and more soft at every Touch it grew;

Like pliant Wax, when chafing Hands reduce

The former Mass to Form, and frame for Use

He would believe, but yet is still in pain,

And tries his Argument of Sense again,

Presses the Pulse, and feels the leaping Vein.

Convinced, o'erjoyed, his studied Thanks and Praise,

To her who made the Miracle, he pays:

Then Lips to Lips he joined; now freed from Fear,

He found the Savour of the Kiss sincere:

At this the wakened image oped her Eyes,

And viewed at once the Light and Lover, with surprise.

The Goddess present at the Match she made,

So blessed the Bed, such Fruitfulness conveyed,

That e'er ten Moons had sharpened either Horn,

To crown their Bliss, a lovely Boy was born;

Paphos his Name, who, grown to manhood, walled

The City Paphos, from the Founder called.

Pygamlion and Galatea by Ovidius