Depressed depression
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Enjoy!
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There’s always a time in someone’s life, where they can be sure they’ve seen better days, and just can’t remember them. Unfortunately, it’s this guys turn. Soon, the sun will shine again.
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Shot this morning, a 3 bracket HDR image, output through Photoshop and Photomatix. As I said I was moving out to the country, and the photo-opps are numerous! :) I have always found scenes like this in rural America almost iconic in a sense, the ever enduring struggle of the American Farmer vs Government and big Corporate America. When I saw this I just stopped dead in my tracks, what you don’t see is the ranch house which was built about 30 years ago all boarded up….just sitting there….it really is just sad, seeing these open fields go to waste, the barn empty, with rusty farm equipment, harking back to when a family made an honest living off the land and the crops they raised. Part of America forever lost, part of a families tradition gone, forever. So goes life at times on the Eastern Plains of Colorado….... Thoughts welcomed ..the song below simply says it all…... —-—-—-—-—-—-—— See more on my website jdebordphoto.com All artwork is © John De Bord, All Rights Reserved. You may not use, replicate, manipulate, redistribute, or modify this image without my express consent John Cougar Mellencamp--Rain On The Scarecrow-Video HERE Scarecrow on a wooden cross Blackbird in the barn / Four hundred empty acres that used to be my farm / I grew up like my daddy did My grandpa cleared this land / When I was five I walked the fence while grandpa held my hand / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / This land fed a nation This land made me proud / And Son I’m just sorry there’s no legacy for you now / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / The crops we grew last summer weren’t enough to pay the loans / Couldn’t buy the seed to plant this spring and the Farmers Bank foreclosed / Called my old friend Schepman up to auction off the land / He said John it’s just my job and I hope you understand / Hey calling it your job ol’ hoss sure don’t make it right / But if you want me to I’ll say a prayer for your soul tonight / And grandma’s on the front porch swing with a Bible in her hand / Sometimes I hear her singing “Take me to the Promised Land” / When you take away a man’s dignity he can’t work his fields and cows / There’ll be blood on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / Blood on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / Well there’s ninety-seven crosses planted in the courthouse yard / Ninety-seven families who lost ninety-seven farms / I think about my grandpa and my neighbors and my name / And some nights I feel like dyin’ Like that scarecrow in the rain / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / This land fed a nation This land made me proud / And Son I’m just sorry they’re just memories for you now / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / This land fed a nation This land made me proud / And Son I’m just sorry they’re just memories for you now / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow / Rain on the scarecrow Blood on the plow
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I know this is supposed to be the season of joy and cheer, but I can’t help to feel very much like this lone tree on a cold and foggy winter morning. Not even the happy chirp of a bird is breaking the eerie quiet. But soon this season will pass, and life begins anew. My art with 1000+ views
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My family is scarred by alcoholism, which caused my mom’s early and torturous death indirectly. This is a satirical piece. I decided to go to the object of addiction itself not the addicted. What I found there was an astonishing work of marketing brilliance. If you go look closely at the actual products, you’ll see that I’ve reworded each liquor bottle label using the same “spirit” (pun intended) that they use in their advertising copy. I simply changed the words but kept the enthusiastic pep talk about what enchantment these products could provide. This is making fun of marketing to be sure. But I’m not sure which is the larger vice…one’s abuse of alcohol or the “artistic license” used in marketing them. Inspiration for this piece came from a line from the Brazilian poem “Residue” by Carlos Drummond de Andrade (1902-1987) –translated by Mark Strand. And from everything a little remains. / Oh, open the bottles of lotion / and smooth / the cruel, unbearable odor of memory. Sample text Love… What gives our Romance its distinctive craveability is the psychic mellowing process perfected by Love itself. Before our new Romance is stored in barrels to age, it’s filtered through ten feet of human psyche culled from hopeless romantics everywhere. Psychic mellowing…drop by drop, makes Love’s Romance uncommonly addicting. It hooks more people and takes about twice as long to kick. But we think it’s worth it. As our fans say “Every day we drink it, we’ll drink it another day.” Sample text Anger: This authentic Irish Classic Emotion is made from the finest quality genes in the heartland of Ireland. A subtle blend of fresh Irish Want and mellow irish Despair produces a memorable emotion and experience. To enjoy it at its best, store for six months or more and when opened, share it with your entire family. Enjoy it straight up, with Depression, or in Solitude. Sample text Euphoria: The legend began over 100 years ago in New Orleans when it was discovered that this smoothest of spirits could instantly dispel boredom, anguish and despair. Over the years its reputation and popularity spread, establishing it as part of America’s need for escape. Today, America’s “take it easy drink” is enjoyed straight, on the rocks or mixed with your favorite defense mechanism. Sample text Depression: / Depression is the darkest spirit produced by the human mind. Ever ready to take over in times of stress, this spirit has been passed down for centuries, from generation to generation, and remains as rich and strongly felt today as it was for your great-grandfather. It is best appreciated after a hard day at the office, or maybe when unexpected guests arrive. It’s smooth, dark mood is guaranteed to outlast all others.
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Depression isn’t a FAD / hug someone today
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The guy who put his hands on you has got nothing to do with me. And the bruises that you feel will heal and I hope you’ll come around because I miss you. And we used to speak so easy, but now you’re afraid to talk to me. It’s like walking with the wounded. You carry that weight way too far and the concrete pulls you down so hard. Well I never claimed to understand what happens after dark. But my fingers catch sparks at the thought of touching you. Let me break it down until I force the issue. I miss your face and you know I wish you would come back down the the Dalva Bar. I want to kiss you and knock ‘em down like we used to. You’re an angel in the pit with his hands in the air and i miss you. You say you don’t know. You say you can’t grow. All I know is that i miss you. Just show up wounded
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Lil Lonely Boy Blue / Stop Blowin Your Horn / / Author: Amber Elizabeth Fromm / Artist: Sean Farragher / here Lil, Lonely Boy Blue…. / As He Walks / His Journey / Feels / So All Alone…. / Loneliness / Fulfills Him / And Chills / His Very / Bones / Forgetting Love … / That God So… / Carefully / Paints / Upon….. / Walks In His / Blue World / Tis Blue / From Dusk / to Dawn / Oh If Ever / To Look Down / Upon Those / Coats / He Wears.. / To See Love / Painted On Him / How Many / Of Us / Care…. / He Feeds / Upon This / Sadness, / In Distant / ICE… / He Stares!!! / And Walks / Amongst / His Teardrops… / Walks / Amongst / Despair / Oh , To Look / Around You / And Shed / The Blue / Coats / That / You / Wear, / Rainbows…. / Dance Upon / The Earth…. / The Angels / That Do Care…. / To Feel God’s / Love … / Touch / Sunshine.. / Tis But … / All Around / God Sereal / Surrounding / Is But / All Around / To Only / Step Out / Of The Pity / Oh Lil Lonely / Boy Blue / Tis Easy… / Just / Put Those / Blue Coats / Down / Lil Lonely Boy / Blue… / So Easy / So Easy / Is to Change / So….. / Lil Lonely Blue Boy… / Put Your / Blue Coats / Down
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I think many people can struggle with loneliness and depression. This image represents this struggle where huge spaces can be void. This is actually a side of a building photographed in Newcastle Australia 2008.
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acrylic ..ink ..pastel and and love LOL on canvas / 36”x12” and 2 inch sides Each night I go to bed I think …was I enough today? / Did I do enough …feel enough …be good to others…help someone / Was I the best I myself could be? / The answer is always no….... / I got a second chance in life where I know others did not / I feel always the need to prove …to be a better human being / Some days I fail miserably but when I go to bed and contemplate the day… I know I will wake up and / Try to be more….. / And I hope my answer is always no because it makes me get up and strive to / Accomplish more in this small life I was given
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there are times after tragic times one feels nothing….you are leading your life by nothing …it is so very difficult to get out of that…..to stand up strong after you have been pushed down so many times
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Changing Channels
by JenniferBand meanwhile / on the TV / Fox news / blurts out / some shit / about God / and the Republicans / being the only way / to save America / in three …
Just what it is, depressive shit, pretty flat really.
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this seems to be the look I carry in my eyes a lot when I am alone…..that humble empty wish that things could be different ….that yesterday wasn’t always so messy
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finished her today …a poem goes with this in my writing
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I took this with more light and at a good angle a liitle about this The meek shall inherit the earth .This line went through my mind as I painted, a line I have been force fed since I was a child. I have issues with religion and fogivenss.The fact one can look up to the heavens and say I was wrong please forgive me then poof it is done, seems all a bit too easy and delusional to me. I believe man has placed religion above spiritually for convenience and in turn made the innocent cower. I think in a just world that the sin/sinner should be placed in the hands of the innocent ...what they chose to do with them is the justice. The meek shall inherit the earth…I have since leaned that you can simply make someone’s life meek/powerless by not forgiving. Maybe that’s what they meant?
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Watercolor on Yupo Please forgive me, the following description is long but it is all necessary to communicate the healing process I have been through. Every time I feel like this piece is complete, another step of healing takes place that I must add. I guess it just confirms we are never finished; healing happens one step at a time and when we do not expect it. This painting is dedicated to my dad. I chose the title Overcome because my dad was overcome by chronic back pain and depression. He committed suicide 5 years ago because he could no longer cope with the physical pain and loss of his health. Six years before he ended his life, he injured his back and had a failed back surgery. He had chronic back pain most of his adult life, but this last injury left him devastated physically and emotionally and he was not able to recover. Being a farmer was all my dad ever knew and farmers are very much their own breed. They are fearless in providing for their families, and are some of the most determined and dedicated people I know. They are also the first ones there when a family member or neighbor needs help. Farmers can be also be stubborn and too independent at times. Farming is a solitary life, and the tractor or combine is your office. The hours are long and you rarely lay your head on the pillow feeling your work is finished. They show their love by working late into the night in Spring and at Harvest time. I will always remember the sound of my dad coming home in the tractor late at night in the Fall. I could smell the dryness of leaves dead on the ground, feel the cool of the night through open windows and see the tractor lights as he pulled into the driveway. I loved knowing he was home for the night. To this day I feel warm inside and a bit awed, when I see a tractor or combine in the field late at night. All you can see are the lights on the machinery, shadows on metal and corn dust circling in the air. Even when you can’t see him, you know there is a farmer out there too, and that he would rather be home with his family. As the painting developed I saw a spine and immediately thought of my dad. It did not cause me great pain but healing emotions instead. I needed to tell the story through art and in words. I started painting after his death because I couldn’t use words through speech, writing or journaling. This painting represents the death of my dad, the birth of my art and finding my voice again through art and word. / / I don’t want this painting to communicate grief and pity, I want it say; “Take care of your body. It is the only one you will ever get here on earth. Our bodies are created to accomplish what we are here on this earth to do, but sometimes we don’t take care of them. Our bodies are strong, but turn fragile when not cared for. Ask for help and wait for assistance to arrive, don’t go it alone.” This painting is for you dad – to the best of my ability, I understand. You thought you would not be missed , but you are. You always will be. I love you. More Healing: / Aug 2009 – As I revisited this description and edited it for the Healing Through Art Banner Challenge, I realized that the painting title no longer just means my dad was “Overcome.” In addition it now also represents that I have “Overcome.” Thanks be to God that “in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,[m] neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” / Romans 8:37-39 More Healing: / Sept 2009 Five Years After Suicide More Healing: / Dec 2009 Another Layer of Healing
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Featured in All Things Black. ~Sound the bugle now, play it just for me / As the seasons change, remember how I used to be / Now I can’t go on, I can’t even start / I’ve got nothing left, just an empty heart I’m a soldier, wounded so I must give up the fight / There’s nothing more for me, lead me away… / Or leave me lying here Sound the bugle now , tell them I don’t care / There’s not a road I know, that leads to anywhere / Without a light feat that I will, stumble in the dark / Lay right down, decide not to go on Then from on high, somewhere in the distance / There’s a voice that calls, remember who your are / If you lose yourself, your courage soon will follow So be strong tonight, remember who you are / Ya you’re a soldier now, fighting in a battle / To be free once more , yeah that’s worth fighting for
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This is for a RedBubble contest called HAPPY They ask for a 16:9 format, 1920×1080 pixels. Vector self-portrait. My happiness rating from 1 – 10: 5 – happy to be a mother and artist, but unhappy that I’ve gone through the toughest time in my life to get to this point, without the man I love by my side. Update 5th Sep 09: Thank you to RedBubble for the front page feature of this work! So wonderful! The larger version can be seen here
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i hate being broken by you, you said forever, you said we would conquer the world together. what happened? when did i turn black, turn transparent, fall out your picture? why am i now behind you, never in your view, out of site? was i not good enough, is that why you replaced me? well im tired, tired of trying, smiling, for you… release me of my burden please for i am tired… This new bolt of lightning you call your friend won’t last, for lightning flashes once, never to hit the same place, they are never contained, never lasting and so... / “I’m afraid sometimes / you’ll play lonely games too, / games you can’t win / because you’ll play against you” Dr Suess Featured In Young Enthusiasts
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Solitude 1 And I sit alone, wondering what it is I’ve done, that makes you want to hurt me… / / A bit of a play around with the Negative Filter, Gradients, and other stuff I can’t remember… ;-) /
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Just revamping some of my old poetry to new images now that I’ve got a few PS skills under my belt, the works a bit dark and depressing, but it’s no way a reflection of how I’m currently feeling, ‘twas just part of a process I needed to go through with my art and writing some time ago… All feels much better these days. ;-) / / Trophy Girls / / Trophy Girls 2 / / Trophy Girls 3 Happy House / / Happy House 2 / / White Trash / / Ugly Inside / / Objectified / / Fragile Handle With Care / / Freedom / / Ciao 4 now / Jennifer B / xox
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A heart was forming in the sky. / Shapeless beginnings relentless delusions / Formed from condensed notions that feel like rain / Dusted with particles called lack of attention in vein / Weathered and white, Clean and Bright Vaporous touch of mothers hand against the / Harrowing slip, where moon shines bright against / Bothersome truth. Oh truth that senses manipulations / Of the weathered vein.. Called lack of attention / Called heartless telling / Called better left to the elders who hold the stormy past Called back to life / Forming from formless / Heartless lie Linaji 2009
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