Abstract expressive
426 creative works found
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It’s wet in Brisbane… loving cozy days and nights I reckon this’d make a nice…. “missing you” card. Abstracts and Artsy Architecture Landscapes and Nature Street Tasmania
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Mixed medium illustration. Photograph of the closed off opening posture of a gesturing anonymous woman with Asian motifs.
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Acrylic on canvas.
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In my most recent series: ‘Face Navigation’ , I have used the fluidity of watercolour painting to express a personal perception of self and others. There is an awareness of the universal human condition through facial expression, and in some cases I create a progression of images, exploring the changing perception of a person by deconstructing facial recognition. As there is a shift over time in attitude or mood, there is a corresponding shift in visual interpretation. Sizes variable, average sizes 250×102 mm. Watercolour on rag paper. / / Web: www.littlemalopgallery.com.au For availability of original work please contact Robert Avitabile at: METROPOLIS GALLERY / 64 Ryrie Street / Geelong, Victoria, AUSTRALIA 3220 Telephone: +61 3 5221 6505 www.metropolisgallery.com.au
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FROM ABSTRACT SERIES: / MIXED BIZNESS / / POSITIVE / / A KISS IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN / / MY DOG IS DREAMING / / INTO THE FOREST / / FIESTA / / WINGS FOR FLY / DANDELION / / / BLUE GAME / / / A ROSE FOR YOU / / / GEOMETRICAL FIRE / / / ALLEGORY / / / GREEN / /
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The original painting is 30” x 20” acrylic on 4 cm deep stretched canvas frame. You can find Original art for sale from the Arts-fine online gallery
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From drizzle to drowning. From dawn to middle of the night dreams that wake me up with a “pow.” That’s it. The answer. Then in the morning the drift falls from a darkened hollow into swirls of vapor and across a seaweed forest. My pencil scrapes. My brush strokes. Awaken. Awake to dream again. A struggle to find an answer that is forgotten in the effort to do do do what I think I must must must and drive myself crazy trying to escape. To sleep on my feet in a daydream of forest palms towering over and pools of languid, blue, mirrors instead of piles of dirty laundry. Or maybe it is all really the same. / The answer laying in the soft white shift of a sheet from a drier in sunlight and waving at the light’s own laughter at the sun. / acrylic on fabric. about 4 ft x 7 ft not stretched. Order high quality cards and prints of this artwork on this Website in a variety of sizes and styles. For information on original or use of image please contact John Fish
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Acrylic on Board
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Acrylic on Canvas, I donated this piece to the silent auction for the Delta Arts Council’s Ruby Anniversary Gala, Celebrating 40 years.
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Speak softly. The storm may hear you. It rages just beyond the curtains. Dancing showers of sequins fall from lightening bolts over rooftops, into cracks between brick walls, over punch bowls and onto plates left with half eaten pieces of cake. The shimmer of linen at the window waves to enter, to escape, to burn, to excite, to play with electric limbs that circle the courtyard with a chorus line of plodding feet. The shouts say they are from the sun. Yet I know better. It is heat from shadows that pulses from cloudbursts of liquid flame growing hot whenever they are noticed. So don’t even look at them. They will grow brighter. Stay inside. And speak softly. Though I know I am really outside. And they are in. I can always pretend to be hiding. It’s easier than pretending to live. At least for a while. acrylic on paper 22”x28” / new series dealing with a theme of phobias and fears
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I don’t know where to go because I don’t really want to go anywhere. The gravity that pulls my feet is annoying and I lift a leg to dance away into the twilight’s shadows. I see through the fog of my own prison and reach out a hand that doesn’t seem like it belongs to me. I reach to the space I have seen in dreams and movies and unremembered journeys. We held hands in my mind. We were married before the sunrise overlooking a hill that drifted downward to the sea and the glass buildings of empty games. We sang to each other in my mind. We agreed to not agree. We were making love as we walked. Yet it was only in my mind. / And now I look at Venetian blinds that are stained with the smoke of memory and loss. I look beyond. I don’t wish to sleep. Not yet. So I allow myself to drift beyond the plastic and the wood and the metal and the plaster and fall into a hike along a rainbow sea that runs through a canyon of vibrant foliage and drifts away through mist and the light of accidental spontaneous freedom. Yet it is only in my mind. Or is it? And do I care?
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The drifting shadow of day’s end gripped the steering wheel of my mind and made me somehow panic. I was going nowhere. Or was I just wanting escape. / The path turned right and then left and then I was going in a circle. Yet I seemed to be seeing something different every time. Faces that passed seemed familiar, yet spoke different words than I remembered. Flowers that once bloomed now fluttered dried up on brown limbs. Flies zoomed about yesterday’s luxury. Then I see the sign that reads “HOME.” I turn away and follow the arrows. Is it a brick floor or the surface of a river that bubbles under my feet? Once again I open the gate, run up the steps, waltz past the entrance, and slide across a mirror, only to see myself and a reflection of where I have been. / I was never lost. Though I wanted to be. It sounded fun, exciting and provocative. And for now, I think I choose to run back out to the street. Even if I am going in circles. “Sometimes Lost is Found” is acrylic on paper 15”x20”
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ink, gouache, collage pieces of hand painted bark onto arches water colour paper she climbed / out of her soul / reaching for / a dream / that was buried / deep within her
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There is emptiness. Full of longing. Full of bubbles of the thread of light that glistens with no purpose except to be. The fullness is vague, confusing, eternally too big for me to see. Yet it is too small to hold. The air folds over into water and sand. The lava of life force drains into ponds of music. This matter glows with patterns of color and shadow. / It is not empty at all. I look as hard as I can and search for a direction. All I see is a door. Then two doors. Closed for now. Yet is anything really closed? Is it really a door? Or is it an idea I have formed? Is it just a different kind of space? The space around me whirls in my eyes to my hands to my brain to my ears that hear the tinkle tinkle tinkle of a wind chime that clatters on the door frame and spills to the window and binds me with the surroundings which are everywhere and everything. Moving is constant even when I stay still. Trying to focus. Trying to try. Then giving up. And just enjoying the blue glow and the odor of coffee and the sound of a whisper and the feel of cotton and the breath of loved ones here and there and nowhere and everywhere and the speech of a song’s lyrics that reverberates in my head, brain, and every cell that swims with the tide of openness and freedom and compassion and knowledge and gratitude. / And all I can say, in my lack of understanding, is “thank you.” Door Waiting to Open is acrylic paint, gesso, India ink and marking pen on poster board 15”x20”
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Walking quietly, he crept along the hidden harbor lights and blew them out. One by one. He slid between wood and water and felt for dry land. His fingers slipped through sand that trickled across his chest, down his pant legs and onto the boardwalk. He looked up and saw, through beams of fog, through wedges of flashing light, through fluttering wings of either angels or doves or pigeons, saw through countless pillows of resentment that had curdled into anger, saw through pangs of love lost and love found and love forgotten and love unappreciated and love lust love lust love lust, saw through the eyelids of the being he was born as that he had not remembered until this second, and saw saw saw the boat come in. It was a sad little ship. Yet it was just right for him. Perfect. And he was glad he had waited. Now he could sail. “Boat Has Landed” is acrylic and gesso on heavy paper 15”x20”
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Glance to the window and then back and then to the sky and then to the walls waiting for words to let go and move. Holding fast inside a dream and always wanting to escape and then to run home and then to move and then to settle in. I remain in one spot for a second and see, if not enjoy, the view. / Hard walls, melting into dark sun streaks left for the heated concrete. Rusted foliage and stale clouds. And inside are crowds. Outside are faces. Everywhere are windows, ruins of the future rising into cold fortresses. / I see through the surface to the stars. The wonder of the light. / I realize I am right where I am suppose to be. Someone told me that long ago. I didn’t like it. Now they are gone. I remember. This can’t be a prison if it is chosen. It is all a playground. Forever changing. Walls only crumbling reflections from and into my own mind’s eye. / Another eyesight sees beyond. Or tries to. / Yet for now, this is a chosen place. Not a lesson, but a heaven. Not a restraint, but a dance. Not an end, but a beginning. Not a wall, but a mirror. This a Chosen Place is 24”x36” acrylic and India ink on canvas. July 2009
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Letting go to swim in the heat of day I jump, frown, feel dizzy and hold onto the side of a doorway. As if I will fall. Or maybe the door is falling. I am only threading a needle with time and hoping today with be tomorrow and yet then it will be too soon. I feel as if I’m hanging on by a thread. And the next day is similar. I don’t understand what is the problem. Then I realize there really isn’t one. So it’s OK. I can let go of the thin safe string and drift out to sea or to the clouds or just across the street or inward to a place of forever color and never ending sign posts leading to my soul. / Hanging on by a Thread is acrylic, gesso, ink on canvas 30 in. X 30 in.
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WET
by artistmindoil on canvas / super fast painting. I would like to consider this more on the abstract expressionism side. I usually paint with more detail and so may I’ll go back at a later time when it drys and add some more depth. myspace.com/artistmind
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I AM GOING TO CUT YOU IN LITTLE PIECES featured in Globes, Sphere’s & Curves 08-25-2007 / featured in Freedom to Shine 08-09-2009 / featured in A Fractal Energy Passion 08-09-2009 / featured in Put out or get out 08-08-2009 / featured in Creative Cards 08-02-2009 I created this image in support of a Redb friend because I know his feelings from my own experience…...(you know who you are!Get it OUT! So that it doens’t get YOU!) Created with Incendia & Apophysis
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Soo I got alittle frustrated with all the smoke here in southern California, and noticed ash all over my patio….so decided to paint with it. / Just sad to see alll those trees and homes gone, and decided there must be some good somewhere from all this disaster and 2 lost firemen. This painting will be a reminder to me of the horrible loss, and the 2 men whom lost there lives because of someones evil selfish pleasure. ~Artistmind / myspace.com/Artistmind 8.5×11” card paper / mixed medium: ink oil paint, earth, ash, watercolor, acrylic, paint
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paint, ink, pencil on card paper / 8.5×11”
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Please come join me at myspace.com/Artistmind oil on canvas / 14×24”
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Magical and Expressive painting inspired by my love of fairy tales and mythology. Original is acrylic and genuine 24k gold leaf on canvas.
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08 December, 2009 —-
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