Emotional expression
244 creative works found
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Nothing too serious, Siena has just ordered her Salt n Pepper squid and the order is taking longer than expected…. We do live in the lucky country if that’s all she’s got to cry about…
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Chinese & Amsterdam Storeys
by Maxwell Edward“Good afternoon Gentlemen. Our delicious Chinese restaurant serves some of the greatest Chinese delicacies. Can I take your orders?” J…
“Good afternoon Gentlemen. Our delicious Chinese restaurant serves some of the greatest Chinese delicacies. Can I take your orders?” Jermaine takes charge as usual. “I imagine you can sir. Well my friend will have special fried rice and I will have special sweet n sour chicken. Could you make sure it’s especially sweet n sour though? Thanks sir.” People love to eat Chinese. More often the meals though…for the appetisers may prove too fattening over time. Neville and Jermaine have definitely had their share of fattening up over time. Neville is said to eat more Chinese than most Chinese and as for Jermaine, he probably eats more of most things than most people. “Jerry, don’t you think it’s strange how he mentioned they serve some of the greatest Chinese delicacies?” Jermaine who finds nothing short of highly unusual strange, makes a joke from anything less of great importance. “_Why_? What did you expect in a Chinese Restaurant, Indian food?” Neville who hears these jokes more often than not (but still not in appreciation of them) seems to always be misunderstood. “No, I mean, we’re not Chinese. I can’t see anyone in here that is Chinese…In fact I would say that the only Chinese this restaurant ever sees is on the plates. So, they could get away with telling us that this restaurant actually serves the greatest Chinese delicacies. Why would they not?” Jermaine’s opinion always went back to philosophy. “Some wise advice I have for you Nev. Never question the Chinese.” Something about the way the duo talked, it was utter enjoyment. The puns continuously employed emphasised it. A certain kind of pleasure whenever they accompanied one another was unleashed. “Oh Jerry, you got to hear about what happened to my cousin. _You’ll never believe it_…So Ben was in Amsterdam for some time, on holiday or something. Well on the last week he jumped off the top of a three-storey apartment balcony.” Jermaine who believes most things reasonable, but also hesitates in jumping to conclusions always feels obliged to question the situation. “Why the hell would anyone do something like that?” Neville started blushing. He was never as outgoing as Jermaine, even being questioned made him feel slightly insecure. “Well Jerry, you know my cousin Benjamin. No one questions him.” A certain kind of tension was building somewhere between Nevilles growing timidity and Jermaine’s pursuing nerves. “I think anyone thinking about jumping off the third storey of an apartment should be prepared to answer a lot of questions.” There was an uncomfortable short-lived silence between the duos. Neville thought of it as his responsibility to protect his cousin’s reputation, yet his loyalty had previously shown to lead to misdemeanours. Neville decided to break his loyalty for what his reason was telling him was sensibility. “Yeah Jermaine, agreed. Benjamin sure must be a moron hey. Oh, which reminds me, did I tell you he is going to become a lawyer?” The Chinese waiter had brought back the dishes. This is possibly the fastest time a waiter had brought out dishes (which were supposed to be quality cuisines). Then again, Jermaine and his friends always had their doubts about Chinese restaurants. Over their many meals they had discussed many things ranging from the health issues to the political and economic consequences of the different restaurant franchises. The Chinese waiter did not talk this time. He had a chilling frown cast upon his face. Perhaps he had heard their talking? Perhaps it was just the all-round atmosphere of working in such a demanding service. Jermaine and Neville dug into their meals, each choosing their pick of chop sticks and spoon respectively although ironically not in quite a disorderly manner. It was only lucky that Neville chose a spoon for the fried rice to prevent any more mess (if more mess were possible). “So Nev, back to the story; now that you tell me Mr. Benjamin wants to be a lawyer…that makes much more sense; their all lying bastards. This is one big story to you in order to gain your sympathy or something. It can’t really be explained, except that he is behind it all…” “Not true. I saw his bandages and cuts and sores; everything. That can’t really be faked.” “I’m sure for a lawyer, anything can be faked. Any kind of falsehood can be created and unleashed by those guys!” “No seriously. Okay here’s the story, he said he went to a party. He got pretty drunk knowing it was his last week. Who knows maybe he even did…goddamn man it’s Amsterdam! I don’t have to mention the possibilities, their limitless! Anything could have happened. Well anyway, he woke up and that is when the nurse told him what had been reported to her.” “You know what this sounds like? Chinese whispers. She said this; he said that, you say this…” Sceptical Jermaine could never let any possibility go. “Okay whatever, whatever.” Neville had enough. This sort-of-debate had turned into a sort-of-argument. It was time for him to try and change the mannerism of things “Hey Jerry, this kind of talking is probably not good for eating, let’s just eat okay. I mean just the other day I saw the scars and bleeding…well you know.” Eating continued. Polite (enough) slurping of Chinese tea and rice among other things died down the sound of thought. Than Jermaine continued speaking, but not where they left off. “Hey Nev, I’ll be back in a minute. Just have to convenience myself!” Neville sat there. Five minutes boring his intellect- no one to talk to! Jermaine returned. Back to his meal; back to messy eating and the hope of more polite interesting talk. Before Neville had seen it, Jermaine had finished the rest of his special sweet n sour. “Hey Neville, are you still feeling hungry at all?” Before Neville had a chance to reply Jermaine had beckoned the waiter over and ordered “Special Chinese fortune cookies”. The cookies came in no time at all again. It made it seem like there was surely something efficiently magical about this restaurant. “Hey Nev, can you tell me about this story a bit more. So would you get this, I actually heard about a story similar to his; actually two stories, exactly like his…they both sort of were like these crazy stories where these things happened to guys in…well Chinese restaurants actually!” Neville was only half listening, except the information was still unconsciously processing into his mind. He opened his fortune cookie. “No I do not believe it! Coincidences of such do not occur! Madness unleashed!” Neville started shaking intensely, trembling, his usual steady figure rumbling in what looked like fear; his skin pale and pupils dilating and goose bumps on his skin forming. Than he shoved his hands over his head and continued his fearful actions half-hidden by the table. Jermaine grabbed the little slice of Chinese paper, it must be not so fortunate whatever the fortune be he thought! “You will suffer falling three-storeys tonight. Do not question the Chinese” They both sat there; Jermaine seemingly doing and thinking nothing except watching the actions of Neville. Neville with his behaviour turning more and more intense and shocking as seconds progressed and turned into minutes. “Neville!” Neville took no notice, for a moment, to only a moment later reply, “What? Don’t you fucking get this? Can’t you see what’s happening?” Jermaine looked at his watch. Five minutes. Long enough…longer would be dangerous perhaps. “My good friend Neville. I have a confession. I put that note in your cracker…it’s to teach you a lesson really. But it’s also quite a cracker now too to think of it! You should have seen the look on your face! And my friend, I’ll tell you the moral of the story…Question anything with suspicion, even the Chinese, otherwise who knows what will be unleashed!”
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As Is / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-— / / ................................................................................ / Taken at the Cleveland Metroparks Zoo / ................................................................................................... / Click to View By Category: / - Waterfall Photos / - Selective Coloring / - Infrared Photos / - Black and White Photos / - Animal Photos / ............................................................................................................... /
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André’s creation: eclectic pleasures
by Maxwell EdwardBlack and white keys, saxophone, guitar, everywhere. The music has much more magnificence than can be tried to be explained through words…
Black and white keys, saxophone, guitar, everywhere. The music has much more magnificence than can be tried to be explained through words. This jazzy rendezvous has always been André’s favourite ear-food. He just loves the way its beauty, splendour, radiance is ‘unleashed’. André stares at the canvas for over a dozen times. Here he is staring at the blank space which is future marvel…or was it to be past marvel? Had he missed his chance, missed the boat which would have sailed to sentimental stardom? He refuses to collaborate more than a sentence for any one idea. Any idea that deserves a sentence must deserve no doubt. Any canvas is only worth the greatest ideas. Two André’s exist; though only one at any one time. The withdrawn analytical front, designed for most occasions. On rare occasions the other character may appear, the intensive, massively determined André who acts on impulses. Impulsive André must be begged out. A Pandora’s Box of surprises, his job will at least never cease to astonish. “Dearest André, Through years have you befriended my son Louis, so therefore I am offering an opportunity to benefit both of our interests (with intent towards your gain). Litton inc., my company has stepped up towards mainstream success. We require visual arts for our newly bought edifice. I understand you have been painting for the eight years since high school. To your discretion I would like to require a painting; just one will suffice. I would like something vibrant and colourful, yet deep and meaningful; Contemporise to your own vision. Much thanks, Dr. Raymond Fonck.” The commissioned paper lies stuck on the wall. André has read it. Now it is time for the future. It has been too long sitting around (or rather bouncing around); too get too much productivity from anything. Someone once said to him that anything is good experience. True perhaps, although he prefers productivity, especially in a time of intensity such as this; three days left until confrontation. His vigilant eyes stroll around the room, searching for advice. He is not bored, nor has he painters block, for such a term does not exist and will not ever for him. His eyes strike the clock. The clock glares 5:48 pm back. What a disgusting fierce look it has. Not 5:45, nor 6:00 and only one uncomfortable minute in-between. For at this time these uncomforting three digits add to the frustration in the actual time. “Aw!” André suddenly realizes the importance of the time. It is the one factor which never seems to be on his side but actually encourages his total progress. It is an epiphany like that of a mother to the newborn. André decides to let his hands take / control. They are the secret key, (sometimes the gatekeepers of unleashing impulsive André) His dominant left one picks up the brush (over time it has made up for its fault of statistically losing him seven years). His right hand decides to lose cognition. It dips itself into a little puddle of Sangria oil paint muck. Than it flies onto the near-centre of the canvas, smeared diagonally. His left hand takes initiative once again, waving lines of smudge to and fro. Right hand brings more paint to its destination. Myrtle, Indigo, Olive, Magnolia…and no, not that…Yes, yes, even black! (Well seal brown to be precise). All of these contextually beautiful colours unleashed! There are no thoughts in André’s mind now. This is impulsive André now; organised thought is of little importance! That colour is important here. This colour is unimportant there. A few lines of any colour are important right here or there, but perhaps a darker colour is better. More negative space up and down the edges. Shape is forming. Lines are bolding. Complete non-representational form is diminishing. Visualizations; the visualized images in mind are being…unloaded bit by bit. It is coming about. What is it though? No one knows. If anybody could guess it definitely would not be André. André knows he has the power to bring out the reality in it though. In a seemingly paradox situation he must not connect to reality at the moment though. Now, after these hours of painting, André is in the painting. He would not know it has been hours besides the constant glare of the illuminating digital clock staring from across the room; it unconsciously processes its recognition into André. The phone screams out, ‘br-ring, br-ring!’ Like the other external matter it creeps into André, until finally its screams become too annoying to ignore. It’s too late now…impulsive André has vanished; his conventional counterpart has replaced him. The phone persists though. André decides to take it (typical for his returned mannerism). He dives across the room horizontally attacking the corner where that nuisance phone lies. ‘Aw, aw, aw, aw!’ A tube of paint has squirt from underneath his stomach. Agonising that his material friend can be so painful at times (like any of his life long friends). He picks up the phone; only the tone. He has missed whatever, whoever it was. Once again, missing the boat… Now thought and all that comes with it has returned. Why now out of all times possible? There is only sadness, misery, all this escalated from these small miniscule misfortunes; all has turned to turmoil! What can one do, when feeling like crawling into a hole? His secret minor disorders such as his claustrophobia would prevent him from crawling into that hole, even if he had one. At the moment everything feels like one big hole. Not surprisingly André’s eyes begin doing the only thing they know to do in times of unrest; wander. It is impossible to ignore what is there; it has been there all along, yet has never been seen. It is beautiful! It is splendour! It is radiance!! It is interrupted by another scream of ‘br-ring br-ring’. André picks up the damn phone. Without contemplation he whispers, “Sir, madam, I’m very terribly busy, could you perhaps call back sometime?” A deep sophisticated voice replies, “Raymond Fonck, André. Listen, I need to know about the progress of the painting. How is it going; ready to sell on Friday?” Many emotions garner at the speed of light inside André allows these emotions to clash inside of him. The painting; it is beautiful, splendour, radiance! How could he give it away now, after an indescribable series of emotional contributions? It is something that has not been attempted before; yet it is new but the expression of old. It is everything, at the moment, hopefully containing more interpretive inoculations for the future. It is a subject, of just some time, yet it contains a collaboration of detail separated from time. It is…once again interrupted by screams, this time of another sort; the infuriating talking of man. “André. Are you there?” Feelings of great rebellion sweep André off his feet. He knows how he will revolutionize his life, because after all; this painting has revolutionized his thought already. “Mister Fonck. I am so sorry. Some things have come over me…a type of sickness…although I am sure you are not aware of this mad syndrome I am suffering due to it. Well to the point, I must say I will not be supplying you with your wanted artwork. Thank you for your understanding. Hopefully we can collaborate something in future.” André hangs the phone up without replies, without a stated understanding from the mister Fonck. Without even the knowledge of acceptance or approval from the mister Fonck…it does not matter. All that matters is this new painting, this contemporised vision. It is everything. Most importantly of all, it is…unleashed!
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Model/MUA/Concept/Styling etc. – Atrophy Gloria Swanson is alive and well and living in Melbourne, it seems. Canon 40D + 50mm 1.4 + overcast daylight = Silver Screen Fun. Copyright 2008 Harmony Nicholas
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participate in the challenge of “proud member of Children-The power of raw emotion” group
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Mixed medium illustration. Photograph of the closed off opening posture of a gesturing anonymous woman with Asian motifs.
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Madison, my adorable 4 month old baby girl… so full of life and personality already. There is never a dull moment! To view my work by category, please click on the pictures below… Flowers / Landscapes / Seascapes / Black & White / Sepia / Portraits / Baby .
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It’s wet in Brisbane… loving cozy days and nights I reckon this’d make a nice…. “missing you” card. Abstracts and Artsy Architecture Landscapes and Nature Street Tasmania
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Self Portrait 2008 / Pashmina silk scarf from Thailand. Series / Part II Slow Breathe
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Model – MiserysMalice Don’t feed the models ;) Copyright 2008 Harmony Nicholas
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“It’s all fun and games until someone loses an I” / Then it gets simply hilarious… I think I’ll make a T-shirt motive out of it too. Plus several with individual “expressions”. Let me know if you would prefer a version without the subs – giving freedom of interpretation by oneself, perhaps. It is a pretty large composite of 6 photos – even though I reduced the size to 5200×5200 just to be able to work on that on my piece of junk…
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Model/MUA – Atrophy / Dress by Howard Showers I heart pools. I never had one, which might explain why I like throwing clothed models in them for the sake of art. Copyright 2008 Harmony Nicholas
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This is the Father of the singer in my band, Under Pressure. The band was invited to the singer’s family reunion and I took this shot of her Father while he was playing on their front porch. This was my favorite shot from that day. “Stop Pickin’ On Me” has been featured in the Country Bumpkin group twice, the Happy Haven group , the B&W – Character – People Shots group and Portraits in Natural Light group. This image came in 2nd in a “Capture The Moment” photo competition among over 400 entries. “Stop Pickin’ On Me” is available in all print formats offered by Red Bubble / / Buying “Stop Pickin’ On Me” as a gift? Why Not get the matching card? / / / / Check out more of my art from these categories: / Holiday Cards / Abstracts / Sketches / Birds / Seascapes/Landscapes/Sunsets / _____________ /
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Another one of that lovely Janina for ya. :-) Thanks for stopping by! / Andreas Stridsberg © www.mystic-pic.com
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3 years old kissing Mom’s belly
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Some experimentation with a photo of myself. I really like my lips in this shot.
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A tiny, tidy room. I am speaking in memories, illusions and pleasantries. The air conditioner is not running and the sun shines through a white window over white wicker furniture and artificial floral arrangements and a tile floor that is not lovely at all, not chic at all, but is always clean. / I am leaving, / scooting around the edge, / feeling my way in the dark, / suddenly unable to breath. / I feel proud of myself for avoiding the obvious. Proud for not bringing it to anyone’s attention. Proud for not mentioning that I was suffocating. Proud that I didn’t let my feelings show. Proud that I was what someone else wanted me to be and not who I am. Proud that I had kept / the secret. / I open the door to get into the car, sniff the air, look down. I must have stepped in elephant poop. / I don’t feel proud at all. This painting is acrylic on canvas. 52”x52” 2008
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Or journey of the lost soul…I guess every day is a failure. I fail to live up to my own life. But I will die trying! I’m ready to make a leap of consciousness. The old struggles are no longer interesting. They do not engage my mind. My energy passes through them-they are mirages. I once sought big monuments of proof that I existed-no more. For me going deeper is better. Deeper insight is all that I seek…and a beautiful cup to drink from.
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Lisa C. Weber ©2008 (Created with Bryce 6.1) Visit My Complete Bubble for all My 3D Artwork. Thanks for dropping by and enjoy!
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that’s a very nice girl.
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Oil Painting on Canvas with mixed media, such as bronze paint, leaves pressed and painted on, gold paint and outliners. Rich colours such as the ones i have used on this painting create deep deep emotions, wether there happy or sad, most often people refer colours such as bright orange, yellow, pink to be happy colours, and associate blues and greys to be sad colours, but in fact the richer and the more contrasy colours are, there the ones that create the deeper moods. I did a survey about this with 100 people, showing them normal happy colours and sad colours (as mentioned above) and then images with this colouring and 99% all agreed this sort of colourings to a image created much more intense emotions wether they were happy or sad.
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SilentCries making progress.. Thank you~
by frozenfaHi All!! it’s rather unexpected.. but my other gallery here, SilentCries has been slowly ma…
Hi All!! it’s rather unexpected.. but my other gallery here, SilentCries has been slowly making progress.. There have been features which i didn’t realise until today when i decide to click on the feeds.. oops.. eheh.. Am very very thankful for the following features.. / / “Dear Pillow…” was featured in the group Shanime: Inspired by Anime’ 19 days ago / and featured in the group the love of The Love of Eerie and Enchanting Artwork 13 days ago… and… My latest tee there, Hold Me… / / was featured in the group Shanime: Inspired by Anime’ about today. And the print version, was featured in Burst > Anime and Manga! today too!! =D / Thank you so very much to all the group admins!! The print version of Dear Pillow also managed to receive a TBA over at Zazzle on the 20th Nov 08 / there haven’t been any sales yet, but i’m really thankful and appreciative enough of all the lovely lovely responses am getting for my designs/writings there.. Karin had been especially kind to comment on so many of my pieces over at my zazzle’s SilentCries gallery thank you so so much for all of them, Karin.. they’re very encouraging and am very thankful for them all.. am really happy to see the responses am getting for my latest work there, Hold Me… am glad that my style there is accepted and even more touched to read the comments there, that my work is expressive enough.. urm.. can’t type much more, for some weird reason my right arm decides to burn and hurt like a ahem ahem.. it’s very painful like it’s being twisted.. think i must have strained it somehow.. doesn’t help that i slept on the floor last night.. argh!! signing off… / ~fa PS: lil fraz was also featured in thick black outlines 17 days ago as a Happy Birthday!! card /
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