Christopher Barker


Profile

Christopher Barker
Age: 29
City: Denver
Country: United States
Joined: Oct 2007

A classically trained photojournalist by trade, Barker studied under professional photographers at Ohio University’s School of Visual Communications. Where he eventually went in debt for numerous thousands of dollars and was barely able to afford Ramen noodles much less film to sustain his artistic life.

Upon completion of his collegiate work, and an absence of employment, Barker pronounced himself as an up and coming professional of mixed media (not seen here). Barker has taken on the role of story teller through works of non-fiction based journals. He slowly perfected this technique while simultaneously dodging mortar rounds and improvised explosive devices while on patrol in Southeast Asia.

Currently Barker has taken on the role of freelancer, while attempting to balance family life in his post-suburban commune, where the deer and the antelope no longer play.

The artist is originally from Ohio, via West Virginia and Kentucky, but currently resides in Colorado by way of Alaska.

Christopher Barker can be reached for question or comment via email at: christopher.alan.barker@gmail.com

Please visit The Complicity Gallery

Combat
Portraits
Earthscapes
Sports
Abstract
Journal


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My Images Do Not Belong To The Public Domain. All images are copyright © Christopher Barker. All Rights Reserved. Copying, altering, displaying or redistribution of any of these images without written permission from the artist is strictly prohibited.

How shall I go in peace and without sorrow? Nay, not without a wound in the spirit shall I leave this city.
Long were the days of pain I have spent within its walls, and long were the nights of aloneness; and who can depart from his pain and aloneness without regret?
Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in these streets, and too many are the children of my longing that walk naked among these hills, and I cannot withdraw from them without a burden and an ache.
It is not a garment I cast off this day, bit a skin that I tear with my own hands.
Nor is it a thought I leave behind me, but a heart made sweet with hunger and with thirst…

...These things he said in words. But much in his heart remained unsaid. For he himself could not speak his deeper secret.

“The Prophet”
Kahlil Gibran
1883-1931

Journal Entries

Curves ahead...

Posted 7 months ago, 6 comments so far.

Moto wreck...

Posted 7 months ago.

Collaboration

Posted about 1 year ago, 1 comment so far.

Writing

<<*IMPORTANT: Do not read*>>

I am closed eyes and raised arms, / Icarus, / White skin drinking in the sun My roots are set deep in the soil, / Blue grass, / Blue collar, / Hearts of gold and mercury

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