Featured Work

  • Moon over matter in one step by iCandor

    Crying is a pure and unhindered expression of love… shamelessly expose your naked soul. / / . / Please view also my other work.. / / Thank you for visiting. All art, writings and other text and materials by Vasile Stan, or iCandor presented here are © Copyright 2007, 2008 Vasile Stan. All Rights Reserved.

  • Summer-Heat by Doris B. Lambling

    Burning away my brain’s ability of thinking – sun-burn on my skin (grrrr…..I can be so foolish and stupid….. !!!!!)

  • Bullseye by Sam Mortimer

    A perpetually extending tunnell, but with interference from the top left corner offsetting the balance. / The inside ring appears to be ‘staring’ at the beholder. Looked at diagonally, it also appears to be a single-eyed face smiling in a rather weird way.

  • ToFlight by jennyfnf

    In dreams / We fly / We soar / Master / The world / No boundaries / Cast about / for words / No need / Just be / At one

  • *THE COOL GREEN HILLS OF EARTH* (#1 in the Cool Green Hills Collection) by Dayonda

    THE GREEN HILLS OF EARTH Let the sweet fresh breezes heal me / As they rove around the girth / Of our lovely mother planet / Of the cool, green hills of Earth. We’ve tried each spinning space mote / And reckoned its true worth: / Take us back again to the homes of men / On the cool, green hills of Earth. The arching sky is calling / Spacemen back to their trade. / ALL HANDS! STAND BY! FREE FALLING! / And the lights below us fade. Out ride the sons of Terra, / Far drives the thundering jet, / Up leaps a race of Earthmen, / Out, far, and onward yet - We pray for one last landing / On the globe that gave us birth; / Let us rest our eyes on the fleecy skies / And the cool, green hills of Earth. Robert A. Heinlein This work was Featured on the BITS AND PIECES Group home page 19 July 2008 =Thank you, Bits and Pieces!=

  • Alchemy 12 by Helene Kippert

    Collage, scanned peacock feathers and apophysis overlays Earth! My Likeness! / by: Walt Whitman Earth! my likeness! / Though you look so impassive, ample and spheric there, / I now suspect that is not all; / I now suspect there is something fierce in you, eligible to burst / forth; / For an athlete is enamour’d of me-and I of him; / But toward him there is something fierce and terrible in me, eligible / to burst forth, / I dare not tell it in words-not even in these songs. (thanks to lina for these words)

  • Triangulation by solareclips

    Flowing freely from my fingertips / Spinning wildly out of control / No direction, rhyme, or reason / I surrender all … Copyright 2008 Julie – Julie Alexander. All Rights Reserved. Unauthorized use prohibited. My work does NOT belong to the public domain. It may not be used in any way, shape or form without my prior written permission.

  • Excuse Me... by Anthony R. Plastino III

    I thought this would be cool as a card. :)

  • I Died Many Times Before by Assef Al-Jundi

    I Died many Times Before First time I remember, I was still a toddler / sitting in the morning sun, on the concrete floor. / My grandparents’ courtyard in Salamiyeh. / I watched, fascinated, as the massive snake / made its way from the roof / down the wall in front of me. / I held a long stick in my hand, tapped / the giant head as it slithered closer. Second time, a year or so older, also in Salamiyeh. / It struck on a starry summer night. / I was playing barefooted on the patio. / Mother came running to my screams. / Sobbing, I told her a big butterfly bit my foot. / I pointed to where it ran off, watched / as she grabbed a straw broom, killed / the venomous desert scorpion with repeated blows. / I vividly recall her rushing around with one shoe on, / the other missing, laying me in a stroller, / running down darkened streets to the emergency clinic. I also died at age five, along with my mother and sister. / It happened on the two-lane Hama-Homs highway. / Mother unintentionally turned the steering wheel / as she twisted her body to chide us / for backseat bickering. No guardrails. / Nothing but protruding rocks all the way / down the steep drop-off. My first summer in college, I died in New York City. / Muggy night, uptown Manhattan, a block away from Broadway / in front of the big Cathedral. I had my arms up, / as the man who had just asked for a light / pressed the tip of his knife into my ribs. Years later, on a misty morning on Texas Highway 87, / I fell asleep at the wheel. / I had worked through the night in Victoria, / and was looking ahead to my bed in San Antonio. / My Chevy Blazer slowly drifted left / into the path of the oncoming truck. Those worlds / continue without me. / My tombstones there / mark ends of times I knew. In this one, grandmother Um Sami suddenly appeared. / Rounded boulder hoisted high. Arms fully extended. / How she lifted it? How she took dead aim, and launched it / smashing the serpent’s head? / I do not know. I was still conscious. / I do remember clearly / the terrified look on my mother’s face. / How her voice trembled as she pleaded / with the nurse to be careful. She was afraid / the syringe’s needle was going to puncture through / my tiny toe. Mother slammed the brakes as she forcefully corrected. / Car came to a screaming, precarious halt / in cloud of swirling dust. / We stayed parked at the side of the road for a long time. / Her hands shaking, she gave us grapes, / while she collected her frazzled self. / She swore never to drive again. / Never did. Let the creep go, the second robber, / who had just cleaned my pockets with swift efficiency, / told the one holding my life at the tip of his knife. / They took pity on me when I told them / there was nothing in my wallet. / They slipped it back. Walked off. / It took my rage weeks to subside. I could see the whites of the wide-open eyes / of the truck driver, as I twitched awake! / He was already moving to his left / to avoid hitting me. But my reflex was to jerk the wheel / to my right to get back into my lane. / I also stomped the brakes. / We came within a hair of a head-on collision, / as he swerved back into his lane. / That was when time switched / to slow motion… / Me sitting still. / Blazer skidding sideways / on the wet grass / along the shoulder. / Dull-black asphalt road passing / in front of me. / No sound. / Finally, / everything / coming to absolute / rest. In this one an invisible hand / still cradles / my bones. © Assef Al-Jundi Visit this blog

  • Flower mandala... by Mel Spittall

    A mandala is a symmetrical image, with shapes emerging from a center….any ritualistic geometric design, symbolic of the universe, used as an aid to meditation. This image inspired by the stunning work of Julia Wright ....check out her work it is truely beautiful!

  • Crystal Bubbles #3 by N Kumar Bellani

    Thank you Robin Monroe for this most inspiring title and these wonderful words…I quote…Robin… “We are just mere crystal bubbles in this whirl wind of life…..” I would like to add this inspiring quote by my super friend linaji “Most appreciated.. as this is the concept of your bubbles.. we are the RBCrystal Bubbles.. the endless possibilities here and now just between this gathering is staggering!”

  • ToDeepenWithin by RosaCobos

    The magic of a digitally painted crystal ball. Specifically these are two photos and one ball. To create transparencies is one of my aims…Spheres move in the Universal Dimension. Here I have experimented with the two..and threedimensionality.With a simple point of view. And th words have come afterwards. A play of forms.. / A play of light.. / A play of colour.. / A play to deep inside.. / outside… / around the sides… / Centered Self Side.. / Which side? / Round…To deep inside.. / Round… / no.. / sides. / Rosa Cobos © Copyright Rosa Cobos 2008 . All rights reserved

Recent Work

  • Black and White Life by Care

    photo/digital artwork ; ) Through a mirror angled / Black and white spectrums tangled / A web of two / Make colour real / Not lacking / But sidetracking / Leading eyes / To reality / Through vision / The same / Sometimes more / A meaning / Through the mirror / Of black and white

  • The Charcoal Burners by jennyfnf

    Smoke blackened / ruddy cheeks by fire / Air perfumed by resin / the Burners / supine / in a haze of / yesterday heat / A thirst / quenched by spring water / discoloured by ash / their life is this. / They are.

  • Telepathy by blamo

    The psychic phenomena by which communication occurs between minds, or mind-to-mind communication. Such communication includes thoughts, ideas, feelings, sensations and mental images. Telepathic descriptions are universally found in writings and oral lore. In tribal societies such as the Aborigines of Australia telepathy is accepted as a human faculty, while in more advanced societies it is thought a special ability belonging to mystics and psychics. Although not scientifically proven, telepathy is being increasingly studied in psychical research. / Sigmund Freud noticed it so often that he son had to address it. He termed it a regressive, primitive faculty that was lost in the course of evolution, but which still had the ability to manifest itself under certain conditions. Psychiatrist Carl G. Jung thought it more important. He considered it a function of synchronicity (1). Psychologist and philosopher William James was very enthusiastic toward telepathy and encouraged more research be put into it. ref mystica .com

  • FOR AMARICA and TOMMY by Dayonda

    Tommy and his mom / were playing on the lawn. / They got up before the dawn / before the spark’ling dew was gone! She knows it will be / some time before she / gets her old friend to see: / Both from death they’ll soon be free. One thing more she’s learned from thee: / Cold blood doth not make cold heart, you see!

  • Marooned by enigmatic

    The sky is strange above my head, / The soil is foreign to my touch, / I gaze across a million light years, / I miss the smell of earth so much. Marooned upon this forsaken mote; / I’ve come to know myself, a man, / Where I am not so brave or proud, / But pass my days as best I can. I shall pass my days alone in madness, / And none shall ever come to know. / I write it on these pages passing time, / Then cast my eyes in hope to see a glow. Some starship come to take me home, / There to kiss the old and gentle earth. / To smell the air and smog again. / To lay to rest in the world of my birth. I am the ghost of this empty orb; / Not home but sojourning for awhile, / Then I think of all my ambitious folly / And with that thought I lose a smile. A poem by S.E. Johnson

  • Shades x4 by Chris Jurek

    Shades x4 Through perfect shades of red, / comes the dream of yet another color. / Threatening to be even brighter, / and win the hearts of others.

  • Bloom 7 25 2008 by Arletta

    Blooming flowers .. blooming colors .. blooming idiots .. I’m blooming tired!

  • Tristan 7 25 2008 by Arletta

    Digital. but more like what I do free hand when I am hanging about doctor’s waiting rooms and such, for stress relief that is. My favorite type of art to do, most of the time; besides writing anyway.

  • Summer Sizzle by Chris Willis

    This puts me in remembrance of the long, hot summers here in Australia. Relentless…sometimes sizzling, sometimes humid…always HOT!! / Enough said :-)

  • CALICO CAT by Dayonda

    the Cat—she’s fat, / and she doesn’t like it / When we tell her she’s that! EXPERIMENTAL BECAUSE: It’s the first time I’ve used a fractile as a background for an essentially flat drawing. I got playing around with one of what I had thought of as one of my “simple” programs and found that it wasn’t the program that was “simple”! It was just one more of the many “shorts between the earphones” that I’ve experienced in my life. . .

  • chrome heART by Chris Jurek

    chrome heART my heart is always in my ART

Featured Members

  • Jaybe

About This Group

Thank You Jaybe , you are a wonderful artist and with such a beautiful heART!!!

============

Firstly, I feel honoured to be a member of ADAWG and I am overwhelmed at being featured – thankyou Terilee and Linaji, from the bottom of my heART.
In January 2008 I developed a condition called Bells Palsy and lost all feeling in the right side of my face. I was very lucky and made a full recovery but for 3 weeks I couldn’t smile, laugh, talk, eat or function normally. It was then that I realised that my life needed to change.
I embarked on a ‘Mindfulness’ course and spent 4 weeks soul searching and looking for answers. It changed my life, and I created my first ever piece of digital art entitled ‘Mindfulness’. It was then that I discovered redbubble…and realised that, even though I struggled to verbalise my emotions, I could release them through art, photography and words. I could share views, vent at the world, show love and compassion and, hopefully, get people to think…..just a little more….
At this point I must mention Jan Landers who gave me the compass I needed at the time and kept me on the right path…always….

‘Caged Emotions’ is the story of where I was, and where I needed to escape from. I was asked to join ADAWG through this piece and this inspired me to create more, including a collaboration with aspectsoftmk entitled ‘Life is a Beach’. That piece of work….to me…is what ADAWG is all about……..

Over time, I have become comfortable about the use of art to express myself and being technically perfect is not important. I use music and books a great deal and I think that they help me to feel…..I see beauty in nature and simple things – things that I have missed out on for a very long time. I am healing and letting go of my past…and it is a truly amazing experience and a long journey!
I hope that my work shows compassion, empathy and understanding – the ‘tools of my trade’ in my professional life….

This group is about Abstract Digital Art COMBINED WITH… Poetry/Essays. You can Collaborate with YOU, a Published Poet/Writer…or with Someone Here At Red Bubble.

We welcome photographs that are digitally enhanced and have an Abstract quality to them. All Work Submitted….MUST HAVE A WRITTEN PIECE WITH IT.
Please review the Guidelines and feel free to ask a question in my Bubble Mail or the Forum.

There are already a few Abstract Categories for expression here in the Group Venue.. So to make this different we have added the rewarding element of verse to our work.

AND FROM TERILEE.. here is an abridged version of an excellent Journal entry she wrote about the goal of this group.

Here’s the deal…I use Digital Abstract Art as a form of spiritual exploration, meditation, celebration…and all the other ‘ations people have been using art in general for. This medium of artist expression is relatively new to me, and feels like a vast territory waiting for future exploration, and I am suddenly an explorer.

This Group..is about the connections between the written word and the image….an expression of what that art is…poetic, descriptive, fun, mysterious….what ever it takes to explain the essence of the art you have created…or what ever you have to say about it all!!

Inversely …IF THE WRITING is the focal point and an image is an after thought… submit the writing piece with the image beside it…..these are collaborations of the images and words…either something you talk over with only yourself (I know you do)…or even better reach out and let yourself be inspired by somebody else’s image or poem

I have seen so much unique and quality work from so many artists out there lately… poetic talents matched with digital skillz to create a masterpiece of art…that’s the deal…right there!

See the group rules and join this group here

Your Hosts

ABSTRACT DIGITAL ART AND WRITING is just one of 536 creative groups powered by RedBubble.

RedBubble is the place to share your creative genius with the world through art, photography, design and writing.

Find out more about us, find more groups, sign-up for a free RedBubble membership or take the tour.