Dark figured
402 creative works found
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pastels, water and mould damage (the mould is dead now though. i think.) / I did a sketch of a renaissance masterpiece, though which one escapes me like the name of the first girl I kissed… / The sketch got left in a badly made cardboard folder, in turn left in one of my less spectacular residences. / The damage made it more. Sometimes it does. Don’t count on it though. Also I love the Orpheus myth, of course. Child of Morpheus; the Greek god of Dream. I look at my hands. It is almost inconceivable that so much could be wrought by something that seems so simple. Everything I am surrounded by has come from the these three jointed fingers and two jointed thumb, from this slab of muscle and bone, a wedge of ordinary, common flesh. Objects smoothed and cut and furrowed, drawn and built, made from machines made from machines made by hands, adapted from older machines, drawn delineated, carved and cast. Astonishing capable and versatile tools, a pencil holder and maker, world altering gun builder, love-maker, architect and destroyer. Or, as Monty Python put it in the Meaning of Life, people aren’t wearing enough hats. Ask…. How was this day spent? Did the hours that passed over me, under me and through me, add up to anything at all? Were my gritted teeth and reaching spine accomplishing strength or waste? / And hey, what the fuck, what difference would it have made, as the walls the ceiling the floor the air itself teems and swims and brims and squirms with seething, irresistible life, a wild mutating sea of it dancing on our skins. Each swaying humming atom of each cell a wonder of placement and order, we wear these miracles, hold them inside us, unconscious and what are we but an illusion within an illusion a Russian doll striated with consciousness lapping our own inevitable sensory LIES? / Spoiled and rotted with delusion and memory, hot with denied futility, with aching rasping vanity, digested and recreated each sweeping fucked up morning. How many times will we watch the moon rise, the sun rise, watch a storm wracking the steaming ocean, open our mouths to the pure rain, fuck under the fluted cadence of the stars, how many, how many, before we never again have the chance? / Find the value, a heart skip of means, an agony of choice. Lips mouthing violent truths – touch the hand of a child, thought and love over proof and cost. / Calm ourselves in walking sleep and waking ruin. How many of us are blind to it all? To even the first stuttered consonants of the questions? / Am I really the one with the delusions…? / It’s true, it is. I have never been able to even hold a JOB. I can barely pay the bills I need to be able to survive… I am in so many ways what would be described as a contemporary failure. I don’t own much that has not been given to me. I exist at the very end of means, I am in the lowest bracket (and here’s something in brackets to make my pointed point) of income that this society has, and this society measures success by dollars. And yet I can exist only on its sufferance. Were this any other age, I would starve. A supplicant, as I have always been. Ah well, ah hell. / It’s not only that, of course. I am getting older… and though I rant and rave and rave about value and awareness I have no idea how to amplify what I already have, and if the way I live now is any more authentic or real than anyone else. I could spend my hours, I have considered this, I could spend my hours and days helping people, working towards the easing of suffering, fighting against real monsters. I don’t know where or how to begin. / Bleed white into the dark. Wish and wish and wish again.
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The Sensual World by Jarko
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Winning entry for Creatives Behind the Lens 2007
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Lone figure walking into the shadows…...
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/ / Reflection is a self-portrait taken from photographic artist Jaeda DeWalt’s Infusion of Color series and is a part of the DeWalt Gallery collection. About this image / Reflects that quiet place inside, that is hidden underneath the chaos of everyday life. That sacred space where dreams are born, wisdom breathes and love is experienced, from the inside out. It is serenity, peace, love, light and the bliss of simply BEING. / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-— / Available for sale as Laminated Prints, Cards, Matted Prints, Posters, Mounted Prints, Canvas Prints and Framed Prints / / Image featured in Self as Other on 8-4-2009 / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-— / browse Jaeda’s photographic art by category: / dreamscapes, artistic nudes, couples, glamour, erotica, conceptual, sensual, portrait, spiritual, survivor art / /
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Sales of this Design? – 1 sale so far :) / Ride Like the Wind is a card from the Beach Series and Inspired Series by Karin Taylor….. / in the dark of night she escapes suburbia to find the giant swell of the rolling ocean beckoning her from the shoreline…..she notices a makeshift board on the edge, where the waves ebb and flow in a cheeky hello…....bracing herself, she skims the board through the shallows and onto the wave, which picks her up as though it were cradling her in it’s arms, throws her forward and there she stands in all her glory, the moonlight guiding her way to another land, where in the soft glow of the morning light ~ life will be gentler, people kinder and her heart can mend….... Ride Like the Wind is a mixed media production on canvas textured paper / inkpastelacryliccharcoal~heart /
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Many dreams are forgotten or lost by the time we awaken fully, but that is not usually the case with dreams of flying. Flying dreams are very often a precursor for lucid dreaming; a dream state in which we are aware we are dreaming and can manipulate the outcome of the dream. Freely flying as high or as low as you wish using your arms or feet for direction, often with the ability to do acrobatics in the air is an indication that you feel really superior about something in your life. Once in a while, a flying dream will not go so well, such as when you can’t take off or you lose altitude or something is in your path and you can’t fly past or through it. / Surrealism art prints / Digital art prints / Fantasy digital art wallpapers
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8.5” x 11” graphite pencil drawing on paper
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Fictional figure / ROUBLE 40×40 cm / Acrylics & Gouache on canvas — / / — © 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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others in series
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Jonny and I met up to try out some lightpainting in his attic. We were up there for over 5 hours and got some fantastic images, even if we weren’t very good at it :P / This is the first time I’ve tried any sort of lightpainting or long-exposure shooting really. The model is Jonny, the painter, me (and his sister) Featured in: / The RB Homepage!! / Core
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Fictional 18×24 cm / Acrylic, Gouache & Watercolours on canvas — / / — © 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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Fictional 18×24 cm / Acrylics & Gouache on canvas — / / — © 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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The main background is the plaster texture inverted. The splatter texture is overlayed on the viewers right. The 02 FAC texture was uploaded into the texturizer and applied to the face with the effect erased from the eyes and cheeks so it is most evident on the lips, nose and forehead. The 01 FAC texture was darken-layered around the edges of the image after I colored it magenta using the hue/saturation slider. The remaining elements are parts of my photos, model is my wife Candace who is my greatest inspiration.
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Fictional 13×18 cm / Acrylics & Gouache on black canvas I did this painting because I actually saw in my dream last night a crow. I took it from some place that I don’t remember. I was holding it with my hands and I do remember perfectly that in a weird moment I turn my head back and the crow was sleeping. It was the most strange thing I ever saw in my life – I remember I was watching the crow sleeping and breathing exactly like it was a human or even closer, I was feeling like I was watching a little puppy breathing. / ROUBLE — / / — For Sold! group: Sold a laminated print of this painting in a anonymous buyer. © 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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Sending a HUGE Thank you to Mel for letting me use her original image of Mr. Paul V. / Paul Thanks does not cover it but all I have = ) I so appreciate your enthusiasm and coming to my rescue with the PERFECT image for this piece! I truly think it is my Best to date Thanks so much both of you! Without you this would not have come to light as I envisioned it. Big Hugs Vonne
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Fictional / ROUBLE 21×29,7 / Ink & Markers on paper — / / — Also available as art print / © 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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Best viewed LARGE
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Thanks so much for viewing.
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Thanks so much for viewing.
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acrylic on canvas 70×60cm
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/ —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—- / / Location: Cambo Sands, Fife, Scotland / / © Donald Cameron 2009 / Monophotography.co.uk
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