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226 creative works found
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As a reader Tarot has fascinated me for many years. I love the connection it creates between you and the querant – the privilege of being let into their life for even a brief time to explore things that really matter to them. And the process of giving them the gift of maybe seeing something that had been intractable to them in a whole new light. / I also love masque and candle light so Alison joined me to try and pull these different elements together.
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THE LAST WORKS (CLIKC FOR VIEW) . / / / . Presentation of my poetry book (CLICK)
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THE LAST WORKS (CLIKC IMAGE FOR VIEW) / . / /
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About me (CLICK) Presentation of my poetry book (CLICK) / You may also purchase my second poetry book (I could send it for you by post) THE LAST WORKS (CLIKC IMAGE FOR VIEW) / . / / / . My son`s works (CLICK) FOVORITES of My Category`s (CLICK PHOTOS): Landscapes Portraits Nudes Compositions Flowers Winters Collaborations Fogs . ABOUT MY EXHIBITION The woks exhibited represent the linkup of two artists, a photographer and a sculptor. Such an attempt to blend two spheres of art is really innovative and a bit unexpected. There had been few who were successful in such an attempt. Both authors, blending their art by the means of the photo art, are the winners. Sculpture, as such, is rather a static art, sometimes “performing” in a specific, sometimes artificial, environment. However, the means of the plastic photography, seemingly, make the sculptures movable, dynamic; they make you feel the sculptures are moving. They become alive, start moving and react both to the environment and the views captured by the photographer. I would like the viewers also note the colour solutions of the photos, aimed at the strengthening of the overall impression of the imagery. The original blend and overlapping of two arts let see the impressive plastic metaphors, giving birth to various associations. CLICK PHOTO IF YOU WANT VIEW
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Minimalist abstract study of speeding cyclists, focusing more on the dynamics of the speed and motion of their movements / Oil on Stretched Canvas – No Airbrushing 37 X 59 inches / 94 X 150 cm contact my Agents at Gallery 112 / .....................................................................................
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THE LAST WORKS (CLIKC IMAGE FOR VIEW) / . /
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acrylic on paper 14”x17” / Dancing in lighted pools of Jello-textured neon. “That’s the way to do it,” an old stranger called to the young man who, being suddenly aware of what he was doing, stopped, looked over his shoulder and glanced down at the ragged multi-colored sheet that was pulled tightly around his shoulders. He leaned back and peered up at the sun. Smoke rose from the side of a brick building and the odor or ginger floated through the air. The source of both puzzled him, as he remembered distinctly thinking he was the only person in the world just a few moments before. The old man smiled a toothless smear of flabby lips and bowed down to the dancing youth, who smiled back, jiggled aimlessly for a few seconds on thin, scratched legs and then sat down on a patch of grass in from of a building that had been painted by clowns. The young man pulled back the corner of his gown of rainbow hues and let out his heart, which had been beating all along, but in being freed, started to do a dance all of its own, though it had no legs. It also sang, which surprised the young man as he had always thought he was mute.
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.......Once upon a time -a long time ago in the enchanted forest there lived three Gnomes called ‘Paddy, Pumpkin and Prof ..and they were the keepers of the ‘Key’......... Paddy was a charmer friend to all he did see. . Pumpkin was round and plump full of happiness and glee. . / Prof was thin and wiry a great thinker was he. . and so the story beginz…........ (An excerpt from my children’s book called ‘Adventures of the Gnomes’ ...a secret in the forest’...... ! .... watercolour on Bockingford paper…. ...Piano ..
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/ also available Elephant Love />Sales of this design so far – 2 sales / / / Framed – off white matt in walnut boxed frame / / Greeting Card Magic Elephant is a pencil drawing on A3 Cartridge paper (acid free) which I’ve altered slightly digitally, adding some sepia and pastel flourishes, along with an overlay. The Magic Elephant is another of my latest works in the “Connecting” series, i hope you like her….thank you for looking :) / Looked like this before I coloured it digitally
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/ (Mocha timber frame/off white matt/medium size) / Greeting Card hand drawn on paper / digital painting Legend of Little Geisha / art and story by K Taylor (4/09) In the village of Ishekawa by the Sea of Japan lived a poor couple who wove and carved for a living. The couple had no real possessions but were content with the beauty of the mountains and the sea surrounding them, and happy to be together. The only thing they wished for and did not yet have, was a child to call their own. One day, an ancient crone visited their home and as always, the couple offered their hospitality, gave her rice cakes and sake to warm her belly. The old crone, in return for their kindness, bestowed upon the couple the ability to have a girl child. The child grew from a seed into a strong and beautiful young woman, glowing with pride and joy, she was the delight of Ishekawa by the Sea of Japan, and many young suitors came to visit and pay her homage. But as is the way with old crones, you can never quite trust them to do you a favour without some twist in the tale. Unfortunately, the seed from which the child grew, began to sprout roots, and she was bound to the earth. In time the beautiful young girl became a majestic tree and all the birds from near and far came to perch and nest in her branches, she gave them shelter from the wind and rain, and everyone who knew the legend realised the tree was actually the Little Geisha. / here’s the drawing (above) prior to being digitally coloured
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/ Gossamer Fairy Gossamer Fairy’s dress is made of flower petals and spun spider silk. / Just imagine having a dress like this to wear out…... This is a pencil drawing, which I’ve coloured in digitally… /
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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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We stepped out onto concrete steps that were cracked from earthquake disturbance into black veins from which grass had grown, dried, died and sprouted again. A red flash was reflected in my parked Dodge Neon. It occurred to me that if I’d known the auto would receive so much attention, I would have washed it sometime in the last six months. Then the red glob of a ball flew into tree tops and sat on one limb of an old palm, as if making a nest. Yet the surrounding air and light continued to spin and whirl with white streaks folding and unfolding like shafts of shiny fabric in the sun. / “I heard a loud boom,” my friend said. / “I missed that. But maybe it came from that red ball.” / “What ball?” He glanced around the yard. / A head shot out of a window from the house next door. / “What was that?” The face was frightened and confused. “I felt rumble like a truck going by.” / I stared at the red ball. It twirled and flew in a circle around my head. It bloomed into tiny feathers that cascaded across the sky and then fell like snow onto the lawn. / “That was cool,” My friend smiled and turned his head toward me. “It was like a symphony.” / The face of the stranger next door lit up with laughter. “Wow that was wild. I felt like I was dancing a jig and yet I didn’t move my legs an inch.” / I looked toward the face and wondered if it was an old man or woman. It was hard to tell. Oh, well that’s Hollywood for you. I said, “I guess it must have been all in your head.” / “That’s impossible,” The race frowned with overly red lips and pulled down a wrinkled brow under platinum hair. “Are you calling me crazy?” / “No,” I replied. “I was just saying that things aren’t always what they appear to be.” / “Nonsense,” My friend said. “I know what I see. And what I feel. And what I hear. And I heard a symphony, dammit.” / “OK. OK. I have to leave.” I shook hands and started to hug my friend goodbye and then realized he backed away slightly with a quick jerk as if repelled. I thought how odd it was that I felt such magnetic attraction and he obviously felt just the opposite force. I opened the pulled the car door open and glanced up at the red ball. It was gone. I suddenly wondered if I was going crazy. Then I thought that at least I wasn’t alone. Those too were loonier than I was. Where is That Coming From? is acrylic and India ink on paper 15”x20”
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This was done in Apophysis and finished in Photoshop. I used brushes 7 thru 65 in natural brush and smudge brushes 65. Book Cover style From story to story he spins a web / Entrapping all who listen. / Wonderful stories form all around / making the world alive. / Stories of truths beyond the told / making them real and very bold. / Telling the stories of old and new / the happenings of a world true. Featured in Core [C.O.R.E]
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Searching for a source of light I pledge my heart to the sludge colored wind and float with it high up into hills to meet with a blue frog wearing a green crown perched on a fortress of fire and water. / “Behold, I come to seek the answers for my yearnings.” / The king frowned a frog frown and belched. Then he threw off his crown and jumped, as they are know to do, into a pond where silver and gold fish smiled at pink flowers that glowed from iridescent puddles of blue and formed what looked me me like a chorus line. / But of course that could not have been. / I hiked back down the hill and enjoyed the view as much going down as I had going up. When I got home I looked in the mirror and I had turned into a handsome prince. / I glanced out of the window and the garden had grown from a tiny patch of green beside a cracked up driveway. Tree-sized flowers towered over my head and that blossomed around fluffy clouds. / “Have I found it?” I shouted at the flower bed. / The leaves reached through the window and pulled me out. They wrapped around my body with a comfortable nurturing warmth and threw me to the stars. Then I bounced back to Earth. However a bowl of stardust sat at my front porch. / “Is this the Magic?” I spoke. / “If you want it to be,” a large-headed neighbor said to me through the window of a third floor apartment. “I looks like a bowl of lemon jello to me. And I don’t think I’d eat anything that was left on my doorstep. Maybe it was put there by a terrorist.” / “Who asked you,” I said. / “You did. Or were you talking to yourself?” / “Shut up,” I responded, not being able to think of anything clever to say. / I grabbed the jello or rather stardust and went back home. As I sat down to eat it I stared out into the flowering walls of rainbow outside the walls of my tiny apartment. “That person had no imagination at all,” I spoke to myself or the jello or the stars or the flowers or the patch of blue and green and pink paper that was stuck to the bottom of my foot. I picked the paper off of the sole of my shoe. I looked at it. “I think I must have stepped in a rainbow.” / I thought that there was nothing to search for because it was on the bottom of my feet and yet it was so much fun to look that I would continue searching see whatever I wanted to see. It was my trip to go on as I chose. 24”x36” acrylic on canvas / Searching and Seeing, July 2009
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We weren’t sure if we were going to be able to make it Khumjung on our way back down ‘the mountain’ as the weather was coming in and we were in ‘sleeping bag’ mode. Luckily, the stop offered more than a sighting of the Yeti skull and street lights!! It was already late in the afternoon and the snow had just begun to fall consistently- this lady had also obviously decided it was time to head back indoors. Shot with my trusty olympus790SW
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HOME
by Kim CalvertHe left her laying on the floor on a dirty mattress, the place he left her every night, the place he told her to / now call “Home” as he walked away from her, the hatred streaming through her veins made her snap, she wouldn’t go down like this,she called out to him, “Don’t Leave”, turning eyeing her suspiciously, he walked back to her, not knowing she had found her weapon earlier that day, a brick in the corner under some cardboard, behind her back she gripped it with one hand, the other hand reaching out to him, as he drew close she brought the brick down hard on the side of his head..down he went….she ran towards the door slamming it shut..,,finally she was free!!! She didn’t know which way to run, she just ran..as she rounded the corner.. to her utter relief parked not 20 ft from her was a police car..screaming..running she now knew she was safe..in no time she would be back home..”Her Home” she drew closer seeing him getting out of his car approaching her, she ran..throwing herself in the safety of his open arms..crying..”there..there now..your safe” he said ..she stiffened..knowing that voice..No it can’t be!!! She looked up right into the eyes of her worst nightmare..Him..he looked down, kissed her forhead “ wrapped his arms tightly around her waist..Now sweetie lets go back HOME.. Nikon D90 / 18-200 mm VR Lens Went on the inner part of the grain elevator today and got this shot (no one around on Sundays)
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/ / / I was thinking about when I was around 9 years of age see me at 9 / / ....and I was reminiscing about our pet Blue-ringed Octopus we kept in the fishtank…. he was only tiny, but provided hours of entertainment…when he got riled up, he would put on a fantastic colour show for us…but it occurred to me how hard it must be to be a venomous creature… because you wouldn’t get many hugs, even if you wanted them! / / We spent a lot of our days at Shelley Beach, Port Macquarie and dad caught many strange and wonderful things, which we kept in our saltwater tanks… we also lived at the police lockup, so we had the human variety locked up beside us…and mum would cook meals for them, i would dance for them while they had their exercise break out on the front step, with nothing at all to stop them wandering off…cept me doing a little dance… i must have been riveting as none of them ever tried to escape…and we were kinda friends with the prisoners back in those days… some even sketched and drew pictures of myself and siblings, after getting my mum to go and buy them a little pack of coloured pencils… those were very interesting days :) / / Anyway, we have a bit of a history with capturing wild things in our family, a bit like Steve and Bindi I guess…. so here’s a little drawing, digitally painted, inspired by those days I remember with such fondness… a little girl in her bikini at the beach with a little ‘brunch coat’ as we used to call them over the top…..hosting a dear little Blue-ringed Octopus on her head.. / / There is a funny story I have to share with you too, which is possibly why i put the occy on her head… my father used to catch occy’s for fishing bait (with his bare hands) and stick ‘em in a bucket… his method of killing the poor darlings, was to bite their heads, in the eye area, i kid you not…he believed it the most humane way…. / / To cut the long of it short….. Dad was driving his little truck along after a catch in the Creek at Kingy…when he felt something very strange on the back of his head….the occy he’d caught had crawled out of the bucket….. and where do you think he was…? lol I do miss our menagerie of animals friends, back then i had no idea they were very unusual creatures to keep, including a baby crocodile, a turkey running around the courtyard… and all manner of other strange and wonderful things.
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601 views 30 favoritings featured in ‘Bubble success stories ...”The wicked old witch did’st cackle with glee / ‘Tis time to work her magic and sorcery / Casting evil spells abounding with trickery / Beware all ye, ‘tis all hallows eve said she”. Moonshadow ...View large for detail..experimental first fusion of a hand painted witch over a digitally created background with layers gradients created moon in lunarcell moon stars …finished about 2am ......
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oil, varnish, ect… on board / 15×19” / please come join me at: myspace.com/Artistmind /
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Steer II (Missy Higgins) / / Pencil drawing, digital colouring The Golden Elephant – story and art by Karin Taylor / A long long time ago in a tropical land where the papaya grow wild and free, there lived a golden elephant who’s beauty was unsurpassed. All the creatures were mesmerised by what appeared to be the sun entering the water when she swam and when she walked on the land everyone stepped aside, as elephants were revered. Legend has it, the golden elephant was once a beautiful warrior princess. Once, in midst of of a terrible battle with her enemy about to take her life, she made a wish that she could become an elephant, for then no harm would come to her. The beautiful warrior princess was granted her wish, tho could sadly not return to her human form, and so it was that the golden elephant lived forever, bringing warmth and light wherever she went. During the darkest nights when the stars hid and the moon disappeared, the beautiful golden elephant shone like the sun, lighting the way for pilgrims on their journey. Although very happy she got what she wished for, the golden elephant found herself still thinking the grass was sometimes greener on the other side. Indeed she would have liked to be human again. But she accepted her new role and did the best she could with her gift of light. The moral of the story – be careful what we wish for / Antique Kisses another big eyed girl / Thank you for Hearing Me Sinead O’Connor Thank you for hearing me / Thank you for hearing me / Thank you for hearing me / Thank you for hearing me Thank you for loving me / Thank you for loving me / Thank you for loving me / Thank you for loving me Thank you for seeing me / Thank you for seeing me / Thank you for seeing me / Thank you for seeing me And for not leaving me / And for not leaving me / And for not leaving me / And for not leaving me Thank you for staying with me / Thank you for staying with me / Thank you for staying with me / Thank you for staying with me Thanks for not hurting me / Thanks for not hurting me / Thanks for not hurting me / Thanks for not hurting me You are gentle with me / You are gentle with me / You are gentle with me / You are gentle with me Thanks for silence with me / Thanks for silence with me / Thanks for silence with me / Thanks for silence with me Thank you for holding me / And saying “I could be” / Thank you for saying “Baby” / Thank you for holding me Thank you for helping me / Thank you for helping me / Thank you for helping me / Thank you, thank you for helping me Thank you for breaking my heart / Thank you for tearing me apart / Now I’ve a strong, strong heart / Thank you for breaking my heart
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“Lost” continues the story of four friends who set out for a Christmas weekend in the country…in the first chapter, seen HERE the friends’ day starts out joyfully, but soon deteriorates along with the weather, and they quickly become lost... Watercolour on Saunders Not Paper A moment or two of stunned silence, as it slowly dawned on us that we had no idea where we were…it was the days before Mapquest and GPS and cell phones…we-were-lost…the day was getting rapidly darker as the last of the pallid sun sank behind the hills…Dahlia started to whimper and Mark, never at his best in a crisis told her to shut up, at which she burst into tears…there was no help for it…we would have to get out and walk until we found shelter somewhere…at this suggestion Dahlia’s whimpers turned into yells…she had no boots, only thin shoes suitable for city streets…hearing this Mark completely lost his temper….Dahlia always drove him mad…one wonders why he repeatedly sought her out…after calming them both down I said I felt sure (not really), that the area looked somewhat familiar and there would be a farm or something nearby…after some argument, and taking as much as we could carry, we set off, Dahlia wearing a pair of Tom’s boots which were too large for her, all the while sobbing that we should stay with the car… / The road stretched ahead, bleak and desolate, here and there patches of gleaming ice set to trap the unwary traveller, hill upon hill rising behind…a rocky terrain that did not bode well for anyone trying to negotiate it…not a creature stirred and no bird sang…the wind blew stinging ice pellets at our faces, and in no time our gloves and feet were soaked…but there were ancient dry stone walls edging the road..a sign that somewhere nearby would be shelter…..we turned a corner…”.LOOK” I cried..Janis Z..Fiction..A Weekend in the Country..Ch.2 Lost.. / A Weekend in the Country
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“The Grove” continues the story of four friends who set out for a Christmas weekend in the country…in the first chapter, seen HERE the friends’ day starts out joyfully, but soon deteriorates along with the weather, and they quickly become lost…in the second chapter seen HERE they decide to walk to their destination, but without any idea how to get there... Watercolour on Saunders Not Paper Look” I cried, but my cry fell on deaf ears…Dahlia, who had still been sobbing that we should stay with the car, terrified that she would fall, stumbled and actually fell, and before we knew it slid rapidly into one of the ditches that hidden by snow, lined the roadway…how to get her out without their falling on the treacherous ice, elicited a heated argument between Tom and Mark, Dahlia screaming and thrashing about all the while…finally by Tom yelling that “the more she moved the deeper she sank”, Dahlia got the message and the two men by lying prone on the icy lane, managed to drag her out dripping wet, but… without the boots…it was quickly apparent we would never get them back…no one could possibly reach down to try and find them…we dried her off as best we could, wrapped her in one of the blankets we had luckily brought with us and the two men elected to carry her in turn on their backs…that meant our progress was slower than ever…worse yet, the only torch we had was now flickering badly…to save the battery I turned it off, hoping that we would be guided by the light of the waning moon…... / Suddenly I remembered what I had seen…I turned back excitedly…”Look there”...I pointed to a spot ahead of us…I had seen what looked like a small sheltered grove, but what had really astonished me was the light…blazing brilliant light pouring down through the trees as if from the skies…”Look where? asked Tom…”There” I replied…then stopped silent…my hand dropped to my side…the light had gone…there was nothing there….only impenetrable darkness stared back at us... / Lost / A Weekend in the Country
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Fictional digital painting made with Photoshop. / Full view please ☯ This is my part to the Longest Illustration, the most amazing project in International Superheroes of Drawing, Illustration and World Domination group. The idea is to create a potentially endless illustration from many different artists. Run run run to see the all the parts and the hole “longest illustration” so far!!!! / Longest Illustration © All images copyright ROUBLE RUST / Spyridoula Bleta / All the images in this gallery are copyrighted, are NOT part of public domain & may not be reproduced, copied, edited, transmitted, uploaded, downloaded, or published in any way without my permission. Any violation of this copyright law will result in a lawsuit.
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