Everything
937 creative works found
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The chestnut grove on One Tree Hill / Canon 40D with 18-250mm Tamron lens. No filters. Bit of contrast applied, that’s about it!
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Woman and wing. Photograph. Pigment ink print on acrylic and Inkaid treated Kinwashi Japanese paper. Print has natural deckled edges (not shown). The dark female figure is veiled in soft focus and and reflective gold.
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Thinks about moving to someplace else where everything is different enough to be fun again.
by Natalia CampbellUS$7.49–US$171.00
~quote by Storypeople. Featured on The Woman Photographer group in May 2009 / Featured on Red Bubble Home Page in May 2009 / Featured on Depth of Field group in June 2009 /
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I walked out of my house a few weeks back and saw a blade of grass that has seemingly burst through the tarmac. / . / I thought about it all that day. And by the evening I was in the most joyous mood. / . / Whether climate change is man’s fault or not, whether this evolution is as natural as can be or a total fuck up. All is still well. In 10 years, 10,000 years or whenever we’ll probably die out anyway. The planet will probably heat up or cool down, and they’ll be X thousand/million years of desert/ice age. Then maybe the temperature may stabilise, and in a pond somewhere a small bubble will rise to the surface, and so it goes on, another species will grow from the bedlam, maybe with bigger ears or forty seven hands. And nothing will be left of all the shit we made. nature will have destroyed it, and if this species evolves enough to have such a thing as an archeologist, they won’t know anything about us because all they’ll find are strange metal boxes, as our entire lives are on a hard drive these days. / . / We’re just another Dinosaur. / . / And this made me happy. I’m a big picture kind of guy. And yes I regularly stare into the oceans at night in silence. / . / This will probably offend anyone who thinks there’s a big cheese upstairs controlling everything, but if they can show me where in the bible it mentions Dinosaurs, I’ll apologise. / . / N.B. This has nothing to do with dead stags, and I’m ready for an attack…. / . / /
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Today I ventured again into the blue forest in the early-morning mist, so full of unforseeable dangers and adventures. It proved to be another lucky day – all monsters had taken a day off!, and so I came home with a load of worthwhile pictures, happy that I had managed again to get up and out so early. To say the truth, I had to give myself a good push first, but when I looked out of the window and saw the mist, the blue world outside lured me irresistably to get on my bike again. Near Hilversum, 9th April 2009, 7,35 am / Nikon D80, Nikkor 18-200 mm at 36 mm / F 13, 1/60, ISO 800
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Captured just past Anstey Station in Brunswick. / A composition of two images taken moments apart and during the course of post production chose to go with a selective color and monotone finish. / Merry Christmas and may you all have a safe and prosperous New Year! Peace and bear hugs! :D / / Hearts At War is coming! January ‘08 / / / / Art Folders… / / Entire Portfolio / Born From This Earth – Series / Hearts At War / Vehicular works / Architecture / Travel / B&W Photography / Transitional Industrial Utopian Series / Abstract / Models and Fashion Photography
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Completed in 2004, age 17 This is a slightly cropped version of the original, due to the limits of my camera. My original signature got cropped out so I had to insert a new one in photoshop; in the original it is not actually located there. Original size: (40” x 30”) The two subjects are posed in similar positions, each having a dark, circular central focus., Both images have lines above and surrounding the centres, which draw attention towards the centres. The vertical composition help strenghten the feeling of height given by the vertical lines. Both subjects are organic, however one, the eye, has straight lines and geometrical shapes, while the rose has curvy lines and organic shapes. In the eye, the centre is literally dark, while in the flower the darkness is created by shadows. Medium: Acrylic paint See my other dyptych: / Works by Category / Featured/Popular / Origami/Ori-plastic / Drawings,Paintings and Graphics / Flowers, Trees and Plants / Water and Waterscapes / Scenery / Light, Shadow, and Reflections / Living Creatures / Human Portrait / Japanfluence / Canada / Still Life More Paintings: / / / / / / / Sample Black and White Art Works: / / / / Sample Flower Art: / / / / For more images please visit the category links at the top.
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Near Woods in Sherbrooke
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Straight out of the mouth of a fabulous 3yo – Miss G :) Featured on Red Bubble Home Page / Featured on Still Life and Food Photography Group / Featured on Food for Thought Group /
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“As we melt let’s make no noise / Oh the profanation of our love / To tell the world our passing joys! / And we, besides, care less to miss / Our eyes and lips and hands.” (But honey, I’m not who you think I am!) mewithoutYou – Everything was Beautiful and Nothing Hurt Stock from Odessa11stock
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FIRST TIME PUBLISHED / When I looked outside my restaurant in Broome I saw two cowboyheads sitting on the tables outside and I had a strong urge to make some photo’s. I spook to the two men they where from Fitzroy Crossing. They where watching a crowd of Indeginous Aboriginal men and women ‘hanging’ outside in the Plaza. They where waiting for the local liquorshop to open, In Fitzroy is now a ‘ban’ on alcohol, they told me, so Fitzroy Crossing is now a ‘dry’ Community Miss. / Broome, Western Australia. / Today I received an email stating; CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR IMAGE ‘TYPAN’ is one of 55 images from the PEOPLE & PLANET International Photo Competition. to be published in the 2009 People&Planet; Social Justice & Enviroment Diary, which will be published this month in Australia (2009). / We thought that your image was incredible, and it won from a pool of OVER 1000 images from 316 photographers from around the World! / All funds raised by the People&Planet diary go to Australia’s small non profit organisations which are working to promote social-justice and environmental substainability around the world. /
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www.danadipasquale.com How I Remember You / / Let Me Hold You… / / ...While You Fall Apart /
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Taken at 4pm today 31/5/07 from my side deck. Only slight contrast applied, no colour added at all
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For Poppykitten’s comp – CAT=EVERYTHING ELSE This was taken on holiday in Croyde Bay, North Devon a great UK surfing beach. The wind was blowing up the beach and had blown sand away from the stones leaving them like this, lit by the afternoon sun. / . / © photogenique (dave peddie): using this image for any purpose and in any way, without prior permission, may lead to legal action. / . / Do check out Pete Langman’s great portfolio /
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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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A draganized Baba Desi taken in Belgrave 2007
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Taken in ‘Roman woods’, Cambridge. NOT ‘as is’!
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As I look upon every experience that I’ve ever had, and everyone who has ever played any role in my life, as having been sent to me for my benefit…I am truly grateful that in this Universe, which was created by a divine, organizing intelligence, there are simply no accidents, while I learn to appreciate everything and everyone…like you ;) Appreciate I appreciate all here on RB that make each day special and worth being alive for – I love you!!!
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This is a wild crow that I handfeed on my back deck. Every year she has babies with her partner. Last year they had 3 and were quite worn out when they finally left home. At the moment they are feeding their new babies but they won’t bring them to me for another couple of weeks. The babies come to trust me very quickly. I have an affinity with birds.
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Love Is Everything was sketched in pencil and colored digitally on tea stained paper. This print is lovely and unique! This is available as cards and prints. Thanks so much for viewing my work! xo shelli
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