Unsaid

She regrets it now;
having left everything unsaid.
Her heart breaks by the mere thought
of how everything could have been different if she had said
stay.

He watches the city disappear
in the dust of what seems to be the last memory of happiness.
If only she had said something.
If only he had forgotten his pride for once.

And both at other sides of this world
but in the same state of misery,
watch their worlds turn gray.

Jehona Thaqi © 2016

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How to use water colours

Hi everyone!

I wanted to show you how the process of a water colour sketch looks like.

Frist I start with a few pencil outlines. Be careful not to push too hard, as water colours may not be able to fully cover the lines.

When I am happy with the outlines, I fill in everything I with a fine layer of colour. Note that you do not really need the white colour, just mix more water to achieve the right tone (unless you want to create a pastel tone or to highlight some specific areas).

After that I personally prefer to darken the colours gradually and to set shadows. Some artist prefer to cover the whole paper with a thin layer of colour, but I do not prefer to do so, as I often change my idea of the piece throughout the process.

As you can see, I used white to highlight only a few spots (usually I highlight the lips, nose, eyes and a few strands of hair).

I decided to do a rather abstract piece, hence the bone and blood stains. 

I add a few details to the face (and/or object) and progress to the background.

Here you can perfectly see how different lightings alter your piece and the water colours. I was unable to do the whole sketch in one sitting as I have a one year old son. If you’d like to see more progress pictures of another piece, please let me know!

The final step is finishing the background and adding shadows. As a beginner it may be a little difficult to add shadows, so take your time and do not get frustrated about ‘mistakes’. Practice as often as you can, learn how to mix colours and check out some great Artists on the internet (like Emily Artful, for example) for inspiration.

I hope this was helpful!

Love,
Jehona Thaqi

Wine

I sit alone, lonely,
the evening breeze dancing around my thighs, underneath the dress you loved on me,
flickering candles caressing my pale skin,
empty glasses of wine on empty tables.

I sit alone, lonely,
and I watch the city fall asleep on this sunday evening,
I watch lovers kiss goodbye
and broken hearts run home to their mothers;
for there is nothing a mother can not fix,
but I wonder why it had to be broken in the first place.

I sit alone, lonely,
the waiter kindly reminds me that they are closing,
I nodd, hanging onto my glass of wine,
almost empty,
but still there;
you see, I hang onto the sweet taste of love
and the bitterness which hides underneath your eyelids;
I remember your words, vividly,
and the way your fingertips danced upon my thighs
and the dazzling light of our veranda flickered upon my skin.

I sit alone, lonely,
the last sip of wine;
I see the blurred picture of you,
reaching for me, now.

Empty glass of wine,
but your lips against mine;

a familiar taste.

Jehona Thaqi©

Tulip

image

Tulips grow out of my skin
with roots tangling around this body I once called prison.
To this day, whenever I despise my beating heart,
I remind myself that flowers grow within the cracks of my skin,
inbetween dark and hollow spots,
where once was nothing but grief.
I remind myself that bleeding is healing
and that the tears I cried have been the cleaning rain for my soul.
I remind myself that tulips do not grow
without the cold breeze of winter;
and so do I.
For I have been growing out of pain,
and I will survive each winter to bloom again.

Jehona Thaqi© you will not destroy me

Where did our love go

Where did our love go,
that once twittered like a bird within my ribs,
within this broken cage that found healing in your arms.

Where did our love go,
that grew underneath our skins,
with roots tangling around our bones
and branches that entwined into an artwork while we held each other.

Let me tell you where our love went,
dearest;
it fluttered away – south,
where it found comfort in warmer hands.

The roots died,
and the branches broke –
there was nowhere our little lovebird could build its nest.

Our love –
it went where it belonged to;
far from us.

Jehona Thaqi©

Ribeira

I wonder how many names you had to forget
in order to remember your own,
dear friend;
for you were a masterpiece to this world,
as colorful and historic as the buildings of Porto’s ribeira;
yet broken, for I could see the cracks upon walls
and dying lightbulbs underneath blank ceilings.

I wonder how many heartbreaks you had to live through
in order to love yourself first,
for you thought your heart could hold all of them,
like within this part of the city;
too many temporary visitors dancing through its streets, leaving nothing but footprints behind
and too few lovers who stay to renovate the abandoned homes.

I believe
that your heart is more than a port of desire;
dear friend.

Jehona Thaqi©

An open letter

I sit silently upon our bed
the clock ticking  in the corner of our room,
birds twittering to the melody of a late summer evening
and while the last sunrays enter our small house
I think of your soft hands and mellow lips;
I think of how you used to hold my jaw
as if it was the greatest you have ever held.

Time passes; the clock still ticking,
until its sound diminishes within the blurred pictures of my mind,
skies turn gray and birds fall silent
and I sit there, dry eyes and empty heart,
I sit in order to remember
how you said love would never be forgotten
and how quickly you forgot to call it love.

Sometimes I do not know why I write letters to you
again and again,
unread stories and untold secrets,
floating within the space of your fingers and my desk.

Maybe one day you will have the time to read
what has taken me too long to witness.

Jehona Thaqi©