New painting by numbers Quotes, Status, Photo, Video

Ahsan Faraz Ansari

+ Follow

Report AbuseCopy Text

#painting draw by myself....

#painting draw by myself....

Mahrukh ansari

+ Follow

Report AbuseCopy Text

watercolor painting by #mahrukhansari

watercolor painting by #mahrukhansari

Akanksha Mittal

+ Follow

Report AbuseCopy Text

fabric painting by me

fabric painting by me

Akanksha Mittal

+ Follow

Report AbuseCopy Text

sand painting by me

sand painting by me

bmeena848

+ Follow

Report AbuseCopy Text

watercolour painting by me

watercolour painting by me

Emili Santra

+ Follow

Report AbuseCopy Text

Watercolour painting by me..

Watercolour painting by me..

Abinesh

+ Follow

Related StoriesReport Abuse Copy Text

I like the generosity of numbers. The way, for example, they are willing to count anything or anyone: two pickles, one door to the room, eight dancers dressed as swans. I like the domesticity of addition— add two cups of milk and stir— the sense of plenty: six plums on the ground, three more falling from the tree. And multiplication's school of fish times fish, whose silver bodies breed beneath the shadow of a boat. Even subtraction is never loss, just addition somewhere else: five sparrows take away two, the two in someone else's garden now. There's an amplitude to long division, as it opens Chinese take-out box by paper box, inside every folded cookie a new fortune. And I never fail to be surprised by the gift of an odd remainder, footloose at the end: forty-seven divided by eleven equals four, with three remaining. Three boys beyond their mothers' call, two Italians off to the sea, one sock that isn't anywhere you look ©Abinesh Numbers

I like the generosity of numbers. The way, for example, they are willing to count anything or anyone: two pickles, one door to the room, eight dancers dressed as swans. I like the domesticity of addition— add two cups of milk and stir— the sense of plenty: six plums on the ground, three more falling from the tree. And multiplication's school of fish times fish, whose silver bodies breed beneath the shadow of a boat. Even subtraction is never loss, just addition somewhere else: five sparrows take away two, the two in someone else's garden now. There's an amplitude to long division, as it opens Chinese take-out box by paper box, inside every folded cookie a new fortune. And I never fail to be surprised by the gift of an odd remainder, footloose at the end: forty-seven divided by eleven equals four, with three remaining. Three boys beyond their mothers' call, two Italians off to the sea, one sock that isn't anywhere you look ©Abinesh Numbers