Art sad
291 creative works found
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Loose hearted lady / Sleepy was she / Love for the devil / Brought her to me / Seeds of a thousand / Drawn to her sin / Seasons of wither / Holdin’ me in “ Seasons of Wither – Steve Tyler – Aerosmith This image won first place in an international digital art contest sponsored by Corel. Appeared in print in Issue #14 of PhotoShop Creative along with the interview they did on me. Thanks for looking SnowDog Stock Photo of model used with permission More of my ArtWork
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Masquerade Art Print / Available as a framed art print, poster, card and laminated print. Are we really happy with this lonely game we play / Searching but not finding understanding any way / We’re lost in this Masquerade. Both afraid to say we’re just too far away / From being close together from the start / We tried to talk it over but the words got in the way / We’re lost inside this lonely game we play. Thoughts of leaving disappear everytime I see your eyes / No matter how hard I try / To understand the reason that we carry on this way / We’re lost in this Masquerade. / Words & Music by Leon Russell Image copyright © 2008, Shanina Conway. / Reproduction, displaying or redistribution of this image without permission from the artist is strictly prohibited
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Stock by Dimagerstock at deviantart
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The original painting is 30” x 24” Acrylic on canvas. A film of me painting it can be seen on my website to see me Painting On Canvas The original is on display on my website. Click here to Buy original paintings
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Here’s another portrait of my favourite little muse…
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100% Photoshop. / I like this, reminds me of something Tim Burton might approve of.
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For quite some time now,about 3 months,I have been experiencing a lot / of pain throughout my body that the doctor’s can’t seem to pinpoint. This piece / was inspired by my tarot card drawing for yesterday.
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/ / Even Angels Get the Blues is a mixed media production on brown paper. / I’ve used white acrylic gesso to undercoat haphazardly, then applied felt tip pen, charcoal and pastels to fill in and shade…. It’s sad I know, but even angels get the blues … Even Angels Get the Blues Small Design / http://www.redbubble.com/people/karin/clothing/1548018-1-even-angels-get-the-blues-tshirt / Even Angels Get the Blues Large Design / / Even Angels Get the Blues in Blues if you have any enquiries please email karintaylor@exemail.com.au / /
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Midnight Blues is from a painting i did recently on Arches Aquarelle Paper 56×76cm, a mixed media production, utilising inks, pastels, acrylics, charcoals, found objects such as string and fabric….and the most beautiful gold paint which gives the guitar it’s lustre Midnight Blues is from the Inspired Series by Karin Taylor, during the painting of this, i was strongly influenced by my favourite Australian artist, Brett Whitely, longing to capture something of the wonderful curves he created in his works. It has a dark and sombre feeling, much like how i was feeling at the time i created her. I used to laugh and carry on that my thoughts and my moods could ever be conveyed through a painting, and it was just silly that people reckoned they did so, but just look at me now….i cannot seem to prevent it happening these days!! lol…that’ll teach me to scoff :)
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SAD PUPPY
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Fairly old shot that I just chucked some of my new editing style at… I think it turned out alright! Enjoy!
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/ Simply Red is a self-portrait taken from photographic artist Jaeda DeWalt’s Infusion of Color series and is a part of the DeWalt Gallery collection. / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—- / Available for sale as Laminated Prints, Cards, Matted Prints, Posters, Mounted Prints, Canvas Prints and Framed Prints / / -—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-— / browse Jaeda’s photographic art by category: / dreamscapes, artistic nudes, couples, glamour, erotica, conceptual, sensual, portrait, spiritual, survivor art / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—— / About this Image / (for Passions group) I have a passion for baring my soul / A passion for using my body as a canvas of expression To unravel myself, to put my soul on display . . . / It is very uncomfortable for me / YET . . . / I am compelled to do so, over and over and over again This image reflects the vulnerability and fragileness i feel, / when i put myself out there – to the world / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—— /
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A brief candle; both ends burning / An endless mile; a bus wheel turning / A friend to share the lonesome times / A handshake and a sip of wine / So say it loud and let it ring / We are all a part of everything / The future, present and the past / Fly on proud bird / You’re free at last. - written by Charlie Daniels, en route to the funeral for his friend, Ronnie Van Zant of the band, Lynyrd Skynyrd. / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-- / all rights reserved. photo taken at teton state hospital. / more of my work is available at www.abandonedamerica.org
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photo taken in the communicable disease hospital at isle de las gaviotas / perhaps one of the most difficult locations to access that there is :) / more of my work is on my website, www.abandonedamerica.org
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created for and dedicated to the beautiful Heather King / love you sweetie. :) / /
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easily one of the grandest and most ornate asylums ever built, / algonquin river state hospital was a cause of great local controversy during construction / due to running far over budget. the extravagance is evident in the beautiful masonry, / the ornamental woodwork, the stained glass windows with their decorative yet functional iron grating. / olmsted, the man who designed central park, laid out the grounds and the span of the wings / is half a mile, if you walked end to end. / to do so now is impossible. / in an ironic twist, the much-contested (and extremely expensive) yellow pine floors / fared far less impressively over time than those made of other, cheaper materials. / the epic scale of the structural collapse, combined with a devastating fire last summer, / make algonquin river state hospital quite possibly the most deadly building in existence. / floors like the one shown here / give way into gaping abysses, punji pits full of sharp, splintered boards / fanning out from the basement like jagged teeth in the ever-hungry mouth of death itself. / to take this photo i had to make it from the crumbling doorway on the left / onto the sagging mess in the extreme foreground. the floor shifted beneath my feet / and my added weight sent dust and debris cascading ominously into oblivion below. / it was quite possibly the most frightening moment of my life, second only to the one / where i had to get back into the doorway with no real solid ground to support me as i inched closer. / i may not be terribly afraid of death. i may even frequently wish for it. / i am, however, afraid of being paralyzed, of falling onto a rotted shard of floorboard and / laying impaled and broken for hours, with no real help available. i am not too proud / to admit that i wanted nothing more than to stay in the relative safety of the door frame, / or that i am glad that i will never again have to make the nerve-wracking leap of faith / back to the only exit. / that being said, i would do it again if i had to. there is no better example than algonquin / that all things fall apart, and i feel a certain kinship with it. we are both collapsing inside, / and it is an odd thing to see before your very eyes what you imagine / your own heart looks like. / very odd indeed. / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-- photo taken at algonquin river state hospital. all rights reserved. / more of my work is available on abandonedamerica.org
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/ Evening
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if one cares at all for the truth, it is important / to periodically step back and look at what defines / the world around us, and by extension, ourselves. / in algonquin river state hospital’s case, it is defined by / its grand ambitions and idealistic foundation / and now, by the collapse of these noble ambitions. / it is a place haunted by the scores of tragedies that litter its past, / by its inability to integrate into the world around it, / and its inevitable decline into obsolescence and disrepair - / much like me. / if i were to be honest, i don’t want to see it demolished, / but i don’t want to see it restored either. / it is what it is because of these things, / and its status as some behemoth / enshrouded in its own obscurity and decay makes it / larger than life, legendary even. / to tear it down to make some development or store / seems so pedestrian, insultingly dull, in much the same way as / trying to undo all of the damage wrought upon it, / cleaning it and sterilizing it and packaging it for the masses / ultimately belittles what it truly is. you may look at it / and wince at the sheer scale of the calamity it has become, / but no matter what you think it has finally revealed its true nature, / and has become something far more intricate and ornate / than our ordinary world, / with its gray cubicles and prefabricated sentiments, allows. / to see algonquin river state hospital, you have to actively seek it, / much like you are making a pilgrimage to some hallowed site / that is a shrine to all that fails, all hopes that are smashed by time. / to change it, to ‘save’ it, ultimately destroys it anyway. / and so too, i suppose there is something necessary about / my own longing to leave this world. if i were not consumed by my / relentless desire for my own destruction, why would i seek such things? / sometimes it is the very things that eat us apart, / that ultimately kill us, even, that are our own defining characteristics. / i have no delusions about my own greatness, or lack thereof, but nevertheless / if edgar allen poe wouldn’t have followed a trajectory that left him / dead in some back street’s gutter, if van gogh hadn’t followed a path / of loneliness so severe that it drove him mad - / would we ever know of their works? would they even have accomplished any? / i postulate that dissatisfaction is the mother of creation. / without it we have no incentive to create or to change, as / contentment is suspicious of change, lest it throw off comfortable equilibrium. / and so i suppose my own defining characteristics are a necessary evil. / were i to be happy, were i not to suffer, / this work that i do that defines me, that is paradoxically one of my only joys / would likely cease to be as well. / i don’t want to be a walmart, a business park, a playground. / when i am gone, let it be left to those few who care / to wonder at what drove me to do what i do, and / what frightening and magnificent things i saw in places like this. / i have chosen this path and where it will lead me, all in the hope that / it will entertain, edify, and maybe even enlighten / those of you gracious enough to join me and peer into my life through / the small window of my camera’s lens. / this is my downward spiral in all its splendor, friends. / enjoy. / -—-—-—-—-—-——- / photo taken at algonquin river state hospital. / more of my work is online at www.abandonedamerica.org
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Doll 03. Hand drawn and scanned into Photoshop. Doll01 Doll02 Doll04
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Theme and variation
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