Black ghost
806 creative works found
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This is a room where Fleur would not enter – there were all these wierd and wonderful exhibitions and this just had a chair and a pair of shoes – don’t know why she would go in but the say children have a sixth sense…..
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All work in this portfolio is © Stephanie Rachel Seely. / These materials (images and poems) may NOT be edited, copied, reproduced, printed, distributed, displayed, performed, or used in any way, in whole or in part, without my written permission. Please respect copyright and do not save or upload any images or poems to Photobucket, Flickr, Myspace, Facebook etc. These creative materials are NOT public domain. Inspired by the end of Tim Burton’s ‘Corpse Bride’ film.
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Perfect for Halloween / Suburban Scenes by Mike Savad / Postage, Cards, Framed Prints, Keychains, Shirts, Stickers, Magnets, Shoes, and more.Plus everything is customizable and can be bought in bulk. Mike’s Americana / Gifts for the Barber, Dentist, Doctor, Writer, Fireman, Mailman, and hobbies including sewing. Houses, Trains, Cars, Motorcycles, and more. Suburban Scenes II / Featuring puzzles, watches, clocks, clothes and so much more. Squidoo Lenses / Advanced HDR methods.
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The cold morning mist had yet to rise over this North London Cemetery when I took these shots… very spooky trust me!
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Another misty morning shot taken in a London Cemetery
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View All Art » 1 2 3 4 5 6 / / Haunted is a self-portrait taken from artist, Jaeda DeWalt’s, Haunting Hands 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 / / Image featured in First Things group on 7-23-2009 / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-— / About This Image / Image originally photographed using a self-timer and Kodak CN400 film (black & white film that’s processed in C-41 chemistry). / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—- / This image is featured in Jaeda’s Surrealities calendar. / / / / View All Calendars » / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-— / Haunted The eyes do not lie / Weakening the surface of the social masks we wear / A bruised and battered soul can betray the prettiest smile / As the pain seeps through to the surface / Speaking volumes to our emotions and life experience © Jaeda DeWalt listen to Jaeda recite Haunted / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-— / This image is featured in Jaeda’s Artography Book! / / / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-— / You might also like . . . / / -—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—— / View All Art » 1 2 3 4 5 6 browse Jaeda’s photographic art by category: / dreamscapes, artistic nudes, couples, glamour, erotica, conceptual, sensual, portrait, spiritual, survivor art / /
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Bodie Ghost Town in the Seirra Nevada Mountains in Eastern California. This 1800’s Gold town once had a thriving population of 10,000 people. It was a true wild western town with gun fights, saloons and a huge redlight district.
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This is another collaboration with Richard Shepherd… / www.redbubble.com/people/shepy / I dont think I will ever tire of working on his photos… they are brilliant!
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This shot was a junk shot I had already created in HDR, that I was going to toss. There were major issues w/ it, such as large white spot in the corner, blurred spots, etc. But I loved the look of the tree. So I played with it a bit, liked what I came up w/ (which was what you see, minus the girl) but thought something was missing. I added the girl and well, here’s what we got! / I really like the dark ambiance and lost feeling of the piece. I thought it would be nice to show the original shot I was gonna trash. Personally, I like seeing before and afters of photo manips, helps give a sence of what they actually go through to accomplish the final piece. / This piece was featured in and won Out of the Past Group’s May contest, “Ghosts of the Past.” Thank You!!!!!
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I have been having fun with film lately.
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A planned and never completed community in Salton City. They paved the roads and planted the trees and no one moved in…
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:Line Dry Creation Date: 9.28.08* Model: Slylock-Stock Texture: amptone-stock / Texture: Geek-stock The rest was done with brushes and lighting.
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©2007-2008 Aimee Stewart, Foxfires – please see my CC Terms of Use before considering using this image for any personal or commercial use http://foxfires.deviantart.com/journal/15905899/ / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—- There are so many familiar sayings out there about ‘Time’ as we know it. Time heals all wounds. Time flies when you’re having fun. Time stands still. Time waits for no one. If I could turn back the hands of Time. Frozen in Time. Timeless…. you get the idea. Well, I wanted to create a series that perhaps captured the essence of these things, in relation to human emotion. And so my Time series was born. I know in my heart what each of them means, but I did not name them anything specific, so that the viewer could make up their own mind as to the meaning of each piece. I think that is something unique to every individual. So…my heartfelt thanks for continuing to watch and support my artistic endeavors. It feeds the fire that burns and inspires. / Aimee
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when analogue meets digital… / a match made in heaven Part of a series
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Model – justmeina Horse – confused_stock Background – TimeWizardStock Picture – night_fate_stock Picture Frame – guteCharlotte stock Inspired by: / America – Horse With No Name On the first part of the journey / I was looking at all the life / There were plants and birds and rocks and things / There was sand and hills and rings / The first thing I met was a fly with a buzz / And the sky with no clouds / The heat was hot and the ground was dry / But the air was full of sound I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name / It felt good to be out of the rain / In the desert you can remember your name / ‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain / La, la … After two days in the desert sun / My skin began to turn red / After three days in the desert fun / I was looking at a river bed / And the story it told of a river that flowed / Made me sad to think it was dead You see I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name / It felt good to be out of the rain / In the desert you can remember your name / ‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain / La, la … After nine days I let the horse run free / ‘Cause the desert had turned to sea / There were plants and birds and rocks and things / there was sand and hills and rings / The ocean is a desert with it’s life underground / And a perfect disguise above / Under the cities lies a heart made of ground / But the humans will give no love You see I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name / It felt good to be out of the rain / In the desert you can remember your name / ‘Cause there ain’t no one for to give you no pain / La, la …
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I took this shot in the Victorian Village at Flambards, Helston, Cornwall, UK. Soft edge added in Picassa3. It inspired me to write the accompanying short story which I hope you enjoy and adds to your viewing pleasure. I hope you like it. / Thank you for looking and reading. Best Viewed Large. The Rippers Ghost? / The winter sun is setting on a cold Victorian London. Smoke from the coal fires mixes with the fog, making it hard to breathe. The Lamplighter is patrolling the streets doing his duty and people are scurrying around, wanting to get home and away from the dark alleyways before nightfall. It is the year 1895, and four years since ‘The Ripper’ had last struck, but fear still grips the residents of this part of East London. Some people say he is dead, others say alive, but some say that a Spirit from a bygone age haunts the streets, striking terror to all who walk the dark streets at night, deadly silent apart from the echoes of horseshoes thumping on the cobblestones, amplified in the fog, adding to the tension and the terror that fills everyone. It will be another hour till I finish my work and set foot once more into the cold smokey foreboding darkness of Whitechapel, and as I put some more coal on the fire in my office, I cannot help thinking about smoke that it is now producing, I will soon be breathing, and adding to the density of the fog, which is getting thicker by the minute, making it dark, even though the sun has not set yet. As the last embers glow in the grate, from my small office window on the second floor, I cannot see the street below, and my breath is turning to ice as it touches the window. / A cold night indeed, filled with dense smokey fog as well, some of which I am guilty of. My day is finishing, and I put my hat, coat, scarf and gloves on, ready to brave the dark world waiting for me outside the warm comfort of my office. / I open the door and enter the foggy darkness from the fire escape, tasting the coal as I breathe, which I then put the scarf over my mouth so as to try and filter some of the filthy air before it enters my lungs. From my position, I cannot see the ground, and start to descend slowly and carefully down the now icy stairs, my footsteps reverberating on every step. / I hear a distant whistle, and the muffled sounds of people shouting, and as I get lower, I recognise the sound as Policeman’s whistles heading in my direction. My breathing gets faster and my pulse starts to race, wondering what was coming towards me. / I reach the first floor landing of the fire escape and can see the pavement through the gaslights, and I then stand transfixed, too scared to move, as something appears in the corner of my eye. What is it? Is it the Ripper himself, or the Rippers ghost? / It passed in front of me and disappeared into the foggy darkness as quickly as it came. / The whistles had stopped also. What happened to them? Was that a ghostly experience as well? / I will never know. © Richard Veal. July 2009.
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Ghost Girl
by SelkieSelf-portrait Ghost Girl
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Three photos comprised together to display emotions of contemplations.
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Ink, pencil and gouache on Fabriano Artistico 200gsm / . / A riderless horse known as the black horse of Sutton’s Forest. It was regarded as a sign of coming disaster. It has been known to pass right through houses. / (Source of information: www.warrenfahey.com ) / The horse is also referenced in this 1891 poem by Henry Lawson, Talbragar / .
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