Bomb Wall Art
229 creative works found
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Took this shot of a balloon busting on my sons head.
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I should have called this one something like “Sorry Hokusai”. I have a bad habit of butchering fine art in my more ‘fine art’ works, but I do only do so because the associations people make with those artworks are essential to the point being made. I guess it’s a bit like trying to say something in English when the only word for it is in Japanese. Sometimes it’s just better to nick a word from another language than try to come up with your own. This picture is a little anachronistic, as it pictures 16th century Japanese peasants, running from the blast front of the Nagasaki bomb (actually taken from a photo of the explosion itself) as Apache helicopters make a beeline for the horizon (machines not used until the Vietnam war). This is all about the clash of eastern and western values, particularly in Japan, which has always been a bit a war with itself over how much of western culture to embrace. You can’t see it at all on the image at this size, but the whole thing as been textured and bled to look like ink on paper.
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Plenourium Inarticulatus the capital of Terrigenous Myxedema after a Whistie raid destroyed most of the major population centers of the planet. Terrigenous Myxedema was a thriving financial center on the frontier between the Fartherthantruth Alliance and IPUP. The Whistie leader targeted Terrigenous Myxedema because it would not convert to their dogmatic faith, the Lite Weight Church. Just before the raids the governing council converted all their financial resources to IPUP Credits and stored them on Jorelton Prime. The Planet broke away from the Alliance applied to the IPUP for admission was accepted and began the rebuilding process with the IPUP 18th Fleet patrolling the area for security. The planet took 1.5 dreens to recover from the attack of the Whisties. Some other groups you may find of interest as well: DaDa Land / Boolean Art / Human and Nature / Fantasy Art / Light and Reflections
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The closest thing to a political piece I have managed so far. / / The bowerbird constructs an arch-shaped ‘bower’ out of twigs and brush, decorated with trinkets (usually blue) to impress others. / / What do you feather your nest with? / / 30×25cm, watercolour/pastel/ink on canvas. / / / / By the way, those are not easter eggs. Nope. No chocolate in there.
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Infinite future chaos – “whats that?” i here you say, / its the way we shape our future by how we live today, / the way we live our lives has a knock on effect, / we should give this world of ours some love and respect. Freak weather, wars, global warming,hurricanes and nature dying, / destruction, rainforests dissapearing, children starving, children crying, / riots, warfare, guns, chemical waste, nuclear bombs and anarchy, / extinction of animals, genetics, clones, who is it down to, powers that be?. Just think of our children, how will they survive, what will they see?, / lets all make changes so they can be happy and free, / who knows what the future holds but its down to me and you, / im just thankful i wont be around and bet that you are too.
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I’ve talked to Scott a bit about this image and decided to go in the opposite direction. / Where I interrupt Scott’s image as the Former Soviet Republic’s(USSR) version of embracing the bomb and how it affected the country, my version is how the US loved the bomb. / After the dropping of the 2nd A Bomb and the end of WW2, the US had unprecedented economic growth and prosperity. / That’s what this picture is trying to represent. / It’s a total rework of an ancient Australian cartoon from the late 1940s. / I’m still searching for the artists name though you wouldn’t recognise the original if you ever found it / I needed it for the advertising style and feel of the pic. / The shitty recolouring and clone-brushing is a testament to my paintshop skills. / That should do for this year I reckon. Detail of Scott’s work /
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On Yenohedam the city of Nassam lies in ruins. Nassam was the center of the Church of Truth Lite. It was attacked by the Lite Weight Churchs militant arm the Whistful Ones (Whisties or Joanies as they are called across the Fartherthantruth Alliance). The Whisties have a doctrine of Irresponsible Retribution Always (IRA) in the name of their faith. The Lite Weight Church was a splinter group from the Church of Truth Lite that followed an ancient belief that the Godhead (Eusamot) would come to them in a vision while they were experiencing the traditional Dne of the soul. This attack was just the latest of brazen attempts to force the Fartherthantruth Alliance to convert to their belief system. They strike without warning or provocation even the main church hierarchy has publicly denounced the Whisties but most of the Fartherthantruth Alliance Defense Force have doubts as to the sincerity of the denouncements. / / Source: Ipedia of Worthy Content (iWC); Volume 17, page 31. Some groups that you may want to visit and join: / AW Welcome Center / EF Welcome Center / Globes, Spheres and Curves / DaDa Land / Boolean Art / Human and Nature / Fantasy Art / Disclaimer
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F/A-18E/F Super Hornet doing a destroy run at airshow.
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I’m currently working on a larger piece with grenades…while sketching and doing studies I came out with this little piece. 15×10cm, watercolour/conte/chalk pastel & pen on canvas. / / I thought this time, I’d upload my (very silly) first sketch of it. I changed him a wee bit after then. / / / / Detail (much bigger than life size): / / / / Turtle grenades, goin off in ya face!! BOOM
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Incognita believes that it is important to have a life outside of work.
by IncognitaUS$4.28–US$114.00
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I HAVE BECOME DEATH DESTROYER OF WORLDS / OIL ON STRETCHED CANVAS / $900 US (14” X 18” ORIGINAL) / SIGNED DEDICATED PRINTS AVAILABLE In the eleventh chapter of the Bhagavad Gita Krishna displays for Arjuna a terrible ferocity. “I have become death, destroyer of worlds”. These words were uttered by J. Robert Oppenheimer, the father of the atomic bomb, when first he laid his gaze upon what he had help create. I pray that the better angels of men have laid to rest this atomic Genie. We, as a species, are the only species that can truly alter life on this planet. Our prowess gives us much hope and expectations that we use wisely the gift of reason and intellect. But vigilance must be our guidepost. Never allowing a wayward few to pirate these hopes and aspirations. We cannot afford to dismantle in the fireball flash of a moment all the past good deeds of humanity. As an artist I have very little influence on the world. Except that I do have my paints, my brushes and my canvasses to do with what I want. I reflect on the artists that have gone before me and their influence on the world. Goya’s, “The Third of May 1808” or Picasso’s “Guernica” come to mind. It sometimes falls upon the shoulders of artists to comment and to illustrate what message they have received from their Muse. I am reminded of Virgil’s “Aeneid” where he speaks “O, Muse! The cause and the crimes relate; What goddess was provoked, and whence her hate”. So, I am not alone. Why paint scenes such as these? I wish not. I prefer light, magical and visionary themes but when the Muse demands that I paint such omens I must pay my debt to Her. It is Her fee that she demands payment of from me, if I wish to continue being an artist. visionary imagist “Joey”
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So this passed weekend I was taking some photos of this restored B-17G called the Liberty Belle. Do you ever just play around in Photoshop and then REALLY like how the changes affected your image? This is one of those for me. I know it’s TOTALLY over the top and I LOVE it ….... Hope you do as well. Click here to get more detail on this beautiful aircraft
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‘Asia Series’ card by Karin Taylor This piece is imbued with a lot of heartfelt meaning. / Here is a painting I did in response to the story of Sadako. One day my daughter Sarah bought home a little sheet of paper with the story of Sadako on it and I was deeply moved by the tragic story of her life. You can read all about Sadako by googling her name or the story about the Thousand Paper Cranes. Just briefly though, Sadako was just a little baby when the atom bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, and by the age of 11 years she had lost her fight for life due to leukaemia, as a result of the radiation from the bomb. Sadako tried hard to be cheerful and dreamed of living a long life. A little friend of hers suggested that she make 1000 paper cranes, because as legend had it, doing this could make your dreams come true. Unfortunately, Sadako died, she was only able to make 600 cranes (please see Mui-Ling Teh’s comment below for more information), but her courageous effort and fighting spirit lives on in the hearts of everyone everywhere who hears her story of hope, faith and determination. / www.sadako.org/sadakostory.htm This picture is all about Sadako being taken up into heaven at the moment of her passing from this life to the next. There are a few symbols in this painting that represent different things. The camouflage on her dress represents wartime. The wings indicate Sadako has a heavenly body now, and you can see Sadako is actually affixing them to herself as she accepts her fate. The magic carpet is taking her up to heaven. The little doll is her companion in this life and the next, similar idea to the ancient egyptians who placed belongings of the deceased with them inside the pyramids for comfort in the next life, the circles in the background represent glowing light emanating from the black stars in the sky, guiding her way to her new destination. There is an air of both sadness and triumph…leaving this world is sad, but entering the next healed and whole is triumphant. This painting won a prize at an exhibition in Tweed Heads last year.
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TO DAD / OIL ON STRETCHED CANVAS / 12” X 16” ORIGINAL NFS / SIGNED DEDICATED PRINTS AVAILABLE It has been too many years since I last saw my dad, almost a quarter of a century has passed. As I grow older and become more aware of this world and all of it’s potential dangers I reflect upon my father’s exploits. An honest, simple man who just wanted to love his wife, have a home and raise his family. Yet, in spite of his personal wants and desires, he answered the call to travel far, far from his home to help liberate people he had never met. This country boy, from a town so small that it doesn’t even exist anymore, was destined to fly over major cities of the world and to meet people from places he had never known existed. And so he left his new bride and joined the faceless millions in the greatest struggle of the last century. I can only imagine how he must have felt. You see he never spoke of these perilous adventures, he was as quiet as the Sphinx in the desert, the very same desert that he once flew over. When we buried him at the military cemetery the undertaker, quite casually, said to me and my mom “did you know that he had 7 bronze star medals”? We both said “no, we didn’t know. My mom said she knew that he was burned one time and refused to seek a Purple Heart and that he had Malaria”. You see he never spoke of those terrible events that he had lived through for those four dangerous years. He would only talk about those friends he had made and especially those he had lost. To him they were, the heroes, not himself. And so it was for me growing up along side this man, the man I knew as Dad. He worked hard, blue collar, never complained, never missed work and loved his family. The family in which I am proud to say I was a part of. However, there was a box, in our home, that held within it the hidden treasures from his hazardous exploits. I remember it well. This box was not meant to be seen by my eyes, it was secreted and not meant to be viewed, especially by me. There in this forbidden box was strange foreign money, some empty cartridges, all manner of enemy memorabilia, and most importantly many, many, many photographs. These relics, these photos, told the tale of his long ago secret adventures that he would not speak of. I would sneak into that room, that reliquary, and look at these treasures when my parents where not home. I was a young voyeur into the world that my hero, my Dad, had experienced. I can only imagine what it must have been like. A cold blue sky filled with clouds that hid so many deadly dangers. Each flight could be his last. And yet, my hero father would climb aboard his potential coffin for those four agonizing years. So, here is my tribute to my personal hero, my Dad. I know that there are many, many other Dads out there that deserve just as much. My wish is that they too feel the gratitude that they so richly deserve. visionary imagist “Joey”
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Just a thought about the games Mine Sweeper / if it were a humanesk figure and blowing my mind.. If you are interested in any other colors / you are welcome to contact me, thank you. Model From: / :devmjranum-stock: / Marcus Ranum Texture From: :devbashcorpo:
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Little did they know, Poppy was about to unleash her torpedoes!
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Would like to thank Vasile Stan for creating this collage of my painting Love Bombed with photo (painting) of me in Amsterdam.
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Original stencil and spray paint on canvas.
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How often is disaster averted when an anonymous hero does what needs to be done without saying a word?
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The result of the atomic bomb on nagasaki. The British government has just launched plans for a new generation of nuclear reactors.
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This is my entry into Melbourne’s digital fringe festival. / If you like it, vote for me ! Photostock by fetishfaerie and mjranum (deviantart)
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What if Albert had miscalculated on something simple? :)
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