Original Art Stories - Xueling Zou

I am so thankful and happy to share my art and my stories with you! May your wishes and New Year's dreams come true!!! I have sent a Holiday Greeting to my mail list, including a 25% discount code if you want to purchase any print from my art work at http://xueling-zou.artistwebsites.com/ . To the people are not on my mail list, you can simply enter " CVSJCD " if you want to get 25% off any my print till December 31, 2011. Thank you!!

I am one of the millions who love Henri Matisse's art. I admire not only his modernist color, his abstract perspective, but also his free spirit expressed in art. Fascinated by his inspiration in paper cut-outs based on colored stencils - images are characterized by brilliant colors, swirling lines and arabesques forms in series of jewel-like shapes. His themes range form the circus to female forms amongst the sea... what a genius! "In art, the genuine creator is not just a gifted being, but a person who has succeeded in arranging for their appointed end, a complex of activities, of which the work is the outcome." - Henri Matisse So a crazy idea formed firmly in my head last year, I would love to use some of shapes those Matisse created to design a new series. It took me about 3 months from study to finish the work before last Christmas. I redefined the colors which are fit into a modern home in our 21st century. I painted and named 4 wood panels as "Celebrate

The Little Black Boy BY WILLIAM BLAKE (28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827) My mother bore me in the southern wild, And I am black, but O! my soul is white; White as an angel is the English child, But I am black, as if bereav'd of light. My mother taught me underneath a tree, And sitting down before the heat of day, She took me on her lap and kissed me, And pointing to the east, began to say: "Look on the rising sun: there God does live, And gives his light, and gives his heat away; And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday. And we are put on earth a little space, That we may learn to bear the beams of love; And these black bodies and this sunburnt face Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove. For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear, The cloud will vanish; we shall hear his voice, Saying: 'Come out from the grove, my love and care, And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.' " Th