Concept
1
If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am
only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.
2
If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all
knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do
not have love, I am nothing.
3 If
I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I
may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.
4
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is
not proud.
5 It
does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily
angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
6
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
7 It
always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
8
Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where
there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will
pass away.
1
Corinthians 13
Immersion in pain is like diving into the
dark, deep waters of infinity, which are stroken by
obsessive thoughts, and it seems that there is no and will never be a way out.
If all the tears could be collected, someone would make a sea of them. A sea
of tears hardened like a boiling lava.
Sacrifices pass by us in a daily life
flow, we do not notice their faces, we do not feel their pain. Pain is not
something which is talked about, it is customary to be silent.
Sacrifice. When pillars that supported
the once sustainable building collapse, fairy tale castles grow out of their
splinters.
Sacrifice. When wings break, fallen
feathers turn into fabulous patterns on the canvas.
Something is lost forever and
irrevocably, as if something was broken in this complex mechanism and in one
second turned into despair.
What makes a sacrifice a sacrifice?
Indifference, cruelty, or someone's violence? Does sacrifice make this decision
or does it happen due to the circumstances or actions of other people?
Sacrifice is a touch to death. But this
is a simultaneous touch to the meaning of our existence. This is the fee for
awareness of our own fragility and transition to a new
level. And it will always stay with us, visibly or invisibly.
Sacrifice. When words are burned, the
ashes of unanswered letters turns into a special code, rolled into layers and
flows, creating new textures.
What should be put on the altar, and will
this sacrifice be accepted by those to whom it is addressed?
Sacrifice. When I sacrifice myself, and
though I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship
that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing…
