Ghost spirit
547 creative works found
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Perfect for Halloween / Suburban Scenes by Mike Savad / Postage, Cards, Framed Prints, Keychains, Shirts, Stickers, Magnets, Shoes, and more.Plus everything is customizable and can be bought in bulk. Mike’s Americana / Gifts for the Barber, Dentist, Doctor, Writer, Fireman, Mailman, and hobbies including sewing. Houses, Trains, Cars, Motorcycles, and more. Suburban Scenes II / Featuring puzzles, watches, clocks, clothes and so much more. Squidoo Lenses / Advanced HDR methods.
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The Old General Hospital… / / It was built in 1897 and was home to Newfoundlands first operating room. The hospital has been closed and condemed for many many years now. Rumor has it that many dark and hideous things were done behind its doors, things that are better left forgotten… Only memories are left now that can haunt its dark and terrifying hallways. / / Cinderellas wicked step sisters would be in their glory having her scrub these floors. / / Canon Rebel / / Visit my website On The Rock Photography. / / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—- / More in my “Darkerside of Life Series”... / / / / / /
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Taken In Kasmier in the Mogul Gardens.. Love’s procession is moving; / Beauty is waving her banner; / Youth is sounding the trumpet of joy; / Disturb not my contrition, my blamer. / Let me walk, for the path is rich / With roses and mint, and the air / Is scented with cleanliness. Kahilil Gibran
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I wanted a image, that I think of alot about. This Poem was written by Vanesse Cathleen who is here on redbubble, i thought it suited this image. The Party Is Over You have been traveling down a one way street. / That will only take you to your personal defeat. It all starts out having fun with your friends / but it doesn’t take long until the parting ends. Your life gets hard, your funds get low, / depression begins to creep in slow. You have warn yourself out, your body is tired. / Your brain is warped yet, you keep getting wired. Your party has lasted a little too long. / No one will listen to your sad twisted song. Now you are traveling a little to fast / and it’s about time to make this all part / of your past. You are near the end / What will you do? Drive on… Drive off… / It’s Up To You!!! By: Vanesse Cathleen All The Materials Contained May Not Be Reproduced, Copied, Edited, Published, Transmitted Or Uploaded In Any Way Without My Permission. My Images Do Not Belong To The Public Domain. / © Shane Walker: using this image for any purpose and in any way, without prior permission, may lead to legal action.
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Something wicked this way comes…............... . / Shot taken on a lonely country road in NZ / . / ©2008 Globalphotos All rights reserved. / All photographs, text and images by Globalphotos are the exclusive property of Globalphotos – protected under Australian and international copyright laws. / These images may not be reproduced, copied or manipulated without written permission. / No use for Public Domain. / Use of any image for another photographic concept or illustration is a violation of copyright.
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Dual tone watercolour. / Poundworld, 90lb paper
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experiment with extended shutter speed. / Challenge with Tim Kruskamp on the topic of ‘ghosts’
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I Died many Times Before… First time I remember, I was still a toddler / sitting in the morning sun, on the concrete floor. / My grandparents’ courtyard in Salamiyeh. / I watched, fascinated, as the massive snake / made its way from the roof / down the wall in front of me. / I held a long stick in my hand, tapped / the giant head as it slithered closer. Second time, a year or so older, also in Salamiyeh. / It struck on a starry summer night. / I was playing barefooted on the patio. / Mother came running to my screams. / Sobbing, I told her a big butterfly bit my foot. / I pointed to where it ran off, watched / as she grabbed a straw broom, killed / the venomous desert scorpion with repeated blows. / I vividly recall her rushing around with one shoe on, / the other missing, laying me in a stroller, / running down darkened streets to the emergency clinic. I also died at age five, along with my mother and sister. / It happened on the two-lane Hama-Homs highway. / Mother unintentionally turned the steering wheel / as she twisted her body to chide us / for backseat bickering. No guardrails. / Nothing but protruding rocks all the way / down the steep drop-off. My first summer in college, I died in New York City. / Muggy night, uptown Manhattan, a block away from Broadway / in front of the big Cathedral. I had my arms up, / as the man who had just asked for a light / pressed the tip of his knife into my ribs. Years later, on a misty morning on Texas Highway 87, / I fell asleep at the wheel. / I had worked through the night in Victoria, / and was looking ahead to my bed in San Antonio. / My Chevy Blazer slowly drifted left / into the path of the oncoming truck. Those worlds / continue without me. / My tombstones there / mark ends of times I knew. In this one, grandmother Um Sami suddenly appeared. / Rounded boulder hoisted high. Arms fully extended. / How she lifted it? How she took dead aim, and launched it / smashing the serpent’s head? / I do not know. I was still conscious. / I do remember clearly / the terrified look on my mother’s face. / How her voice trembled as she pleaded / with the nurse to be careful. She was afraid / the syringe’s needle was going to puncture through / my tiny toe. Mother slammed the brakes as she forcefully corrected. / Car came to a screaming, precarious halt / in a cloud of swirling dust. / We stayed parked at the side of the road for a long time. / Her hands shaking, she gave us grapes, / while she collected her frazzled self. / She swore never to drive again. / Never did. “Let the creep go”, the second robber, / who had just cleaned my pockets with swift efficiency, / told the one holding my life at the tip of his knife. / They took pity on me when I told them / there was nothing in my wallet. / They slipped it back. Walked off. / It took my rage weeks to subside. I could see the whites of the wide-open eyes / of the truck driver, as I twitched awake! / He was already moving to his left / to avoid hitting me. But my reflex was to jerk the wheel / to my right to get back into my lane. / I also stomped the brakes. / We came within a hair of a head-on collision, / as he swerved back into his lane. / That was when time switched / to slow motion… / Me sitting still. / Blazer skidding sideways / on the wet grass / along the shoulder. / Dull-black asphalt road passing / in front of me. / No sound. / Finally, / everything / coming to absolute / rest. In this one an invisible hand / still cradles / my bones. © Assef Al-Jundi
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In modern English, the term ghost ship has come to stand for at least one of three separate definitions, all of which involving unexplained circumstances. Historically, the term has been used to refer to reported sightings of apparitions over water that have appeared in the form of maritime sailing ships, often after having previously been known to have sunk, or to derelict vessels found floating with no crew. In fiction, ghost ships have often been vessels crewed by some manner of spectral beings. Full Moons are traditionally associated with temporal insomnia, insanity and various magical phenomena such as lycanthropy. Psychologists, however, have found that there is no strong evidence for effects on human behavior around the time of a full moon. They find that studies are generally not consistent, with some showing a positive effect and others showing a negative effect (hence the terms lunacy and lunatic) Many neopagans hold a monthly ritual called an Esbat at each full moon, while some people practicing traditional Chinese religions prepare their ritual offerings to their ancestors and deities on every full and new moon
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Mindscape is a mental or psychological scene or area of the imagination. The word is most suitable to the filed of psychology. Mindscape has two words combined in such a way that the meaning goes beyond it – Mind and Escape… It can be translated as a Mind that wants to escape or a Mind that is in route of escaping. This adventure can be in the sense of reality or in spiritual world. / Depression sufferers escape from facts, hallucinates escape from reality, psychotics and neurotics escape from many other forms of life. We usually state that they are people who require help so that they can live an ordinary life. But who is to decide what is normal and what is abnormal? If ones can see the other side of horizon, according to them they deem the facts strongly that they hold about life, oneself and reality. They believe they are the right ones who are amongst wrong people. Are you one of them? I tend to assume we all are, one way or another. Online Galleries: / Surrealism art prints / Fantasy digital art wallpapers / Modern artists surreal pictures / 2d3d graphic design software / 3ds models max software
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For the next month (from May 27th onwards) I’m asking people not to leave a comment on my work here. Rather, if you would like to support the work that I do please either leave a comment or upload an image here I can live without comments but homophobia needs your voices Many thanks / Robert Museum Station tunnel, Sydney. There is a moving mural here which looks like smoke or water behind perspex. Stunning backdrop.
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My Website Background Image, Artwork & Model: Me Model Image by the Very Talented Barssel
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Best viewed large A Sydney tunnel, underground street, passages within passages – this one is flanked with moving ‘water’ or ‘bue smoke’ murals. All created in camera.
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This is the inside of Stokesay Castle full of feeling and 700 years old …. Stokesay Castle / Craven Arms / Shropshire / England UK English Heritage Copyright 2009 Richie Dean Software Photoshop Canon 5D 20mm lens / f/ 1.8 , 1/16th sec, ISO 400
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Wayofthewarrior / Was Kind enough to Provide the White Tiger. Thank you Tony! Model stock by mjranum. Of course you all know Miss Rowen = )
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Sakura
by Ivy IzzardJust as Kuronushi was about to cut down the cherry tree, the tree’s spirit appeared before him as an enchanting courtesan named Kurozome. Painted with Photoshop, based on The Spirit of the Komachi Cherry Tree by Tsukioka Yoshitoshi, from the Thirty-six Ghosts series. Other references: Petals by texelgirl / Cherry blossom by enchantedgal Face is Taichi Saotome
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A collaboration between Ademac and Textureofthesin and Tracey Mac Photographer: The warmly regarded and very talented Ademac Art direction and inspiration: Tracey Mac Textures: TOTS Model and processing: TOTS
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Several months ago I was commissioned to do another cover for Conscious Living magazine here in Australia. The theme was to focus on “wild” and in particular….HORSES! / My first thoughts turned to a good friend and talented photographer here on Redbubble – Gene Praag who regularly captures amazing images of the wild horses in his home state of Utah. / And so I asked this fellow bubbler would he be able to help me with REAL wild horse images to work with, as opposed to me taking shots of local domestic horses and pretending they were “wild”. / From this collaboration I generated several pieces of art, and had loads of fun, and I have to say, both Gene and I were surprised at the magazine’s final choice of one of the less artistic images for their cover this issue….. (and yes, before anyone comments, I reckon Equus is spelled differently…lol) so I decided to share with you, one of the other images created from our joint efforts. SO thank you most sincerely to Gene for his generosity and kindness and for being so helpful in this project…... if you haven’t already done so, please take a moment to check out his amazing portfolio of images featuring the wild horses of the USA captured in their natural habitat, and being …... wild and free….. along with many other beautiful landscapes and subjects….. Thanks so very much Geno! You are a legend!
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Many thanks for viewing.
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Many thanks for viewing.
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I had to take my son to the health visitor clinic today for his year old check up. After we were through there (receiving a glowing report that all is very well with his development) I decided to walk by the graveyard in front of the old C/E church in the village. I had, of course, brought my camera. And this is what I got for my little sojourn.
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Listen … / With faint dry sound, / Like steps of passing ghosts, / The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break free from the trees / And fall. / - Adelaide Crapsey, 1878-1914, November Night Was featured in # 1 ARTISTS OF REDBUBBLE and also featured in The Grunge Art Gallery. October 2009.
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