Lettering
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2803 creative works found
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- better shot. Pastels on Paper. / 120×90 cms pastels… not sold the original as of april 2007. not SHOWN IT either. 120×90cms I have chronic bipolar disorder… it sucks, mostly. I don’t seem to be able to stop being too hot or too cold. I should probably get a house with air conditioning (I will just spray the conditioner I have in my bathroom up n down and all around and see if that helps.) I USED to have air conditioning at my house – I wrote on the controls in purple felt tip pen “for permed or colour treated air.” / OK well I have done all the remarkably simple tasks necessary for this morning and for me they were mammoth undertakings requiring much sweat and most of all, courage. Just have to ignore all the fear and go DO IT ALL ANYWAY. / Hm…I love the names of paints. Not the ones that they come up with for you to paint your house with. I have always thought I would be good at that though – / For your lounge “winter ferret” and for your kitchen, “happy exploding sunflower” and in your dining room, “fragrant maroon mice” with a split level in “hungry hungry hippo.” / Or not. / Real paints have names like crimson alizarin, burnt umber, spectrum yellow, French ultramarine, titanium white and cobalt blue. Somehow more real they elicit possibility like a blank white canvas or a snow-white untouched high cotton yield watercolour sheet. Like a beach without footprints or a wide green field of soft grass. At the same time they threaten to overwhelm me with their original unsullied beauty. / So, anyhoo, I sit here, naked in the cold because I choose to be, because I don’t care. I do believe, I do, that we are brilliant and unique, random, an act of somewhere silent, sliding through the world on the diamond flaws that everyone tries so hard to believe. Arbitrary, indiscriminately created, hacked open and carved from the world. / I have been remiss but that does not indicate that I have not been paying attention. / The distress abates by degrees, and by degree it returns and haunts and hurts. This is how it has always been. / I have even been up of late, yes directly up not even dysphoric. Can feel my fingers and toes tingle all day for no reason in slow waves of pleasure, hold them before my face, bend at the hip to pick lavender and put it in my pocket. Stretch strong and beautiful in the morning sun. / Just the tantalizing threads of it in my blood making me bite my cheeks and begin, once more, to push the worlds of my mind onto paper, to hold their drifting and stinging forms. / And it surges and falls like the sea, beats like wind against glass in my head. It has been a few days since I felt the irrational pleasure throb through my limbs. But ah, yes ah YES I know it will be back and soon and I will whisper to it and brush its feathers and ask it to stay stay stay. / I have been being very careful. I have not worked to the extent that I know I can, that I am pushed to and pressured in the back of my mind. I have even held back from the truth of my desires and have been making works that are gentle and lyrical. Before the storm. I have rational rationale that I must follow before I get all carried away and covered in paint inside and out. I do feel in a kind of limbo. I don’t know if this is happiness or not. I am lonely and dissatisfaction nests in my mind. Of course, of course. But limbo is better than purgatory and purgatory is better than hell. Often I feel… vague and unreal. / I stare so keenly at the moments days weeks without knowing that I am actually mad – this time, it does not possess the defining edge of reality that the very distortion and pain brings. How odd. Ridiculous. / ABSURD. And while I have this stillness, this ineptitude for subsistence there is always the star monster, world eater, inside me. It is inside us all, somewhere, elsewhere, else-when, telling us, calling to us in the night… / Don’t ever stop asking don’t ever ever stop reaching the answer to the question what is the meaning of life is the question what is the meaning of life. Breathe the sweet breath of madness tie your mind to itself in switches and arcs of pleasure and lights and pain, in stutters and twitches and flights and bursts of colour in your vision. / We are all so bound to lucidity. To rationalism. Ah hell. And to it we eventually return. / I wish I was my cat (the cat is dead, long live the cat!) “I am a brother to dragons / I am a companion to owls. / My skin is black upon me. / And my bones are burned with heat.” Ah my friends, my loving mad friends. I do so hope we all survive. / Spin through the random sky… faithless, of course. Faith in what? Paul
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I bought these old letters at an antique mart in Buenos Aires, Argentina back in February 2006. I set a few of them up against this old box that I have to create this image. I hope it inspires someone to NOT send an e-mail and pick up a pen to write a handwritten letter or postcard. I feel I am one of the few who still loves sending mail via the regular postal channels. Sold 1 matted print to a writer in Pittsburg, PA.
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IMPORTANT MESSAGE: If there is a specific celebrity/funny message/personal saying you wish to have on these “dear Santa” t-shirts, just comment on here with the request or message me. I will be happy to make it.
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Dear Bill, I can’t begin to tell you how pleased I was to hear that all the harassment finally paid off, and you’ve decided to drag your sorry arse over here! I realise that the prospect of spending months at sea isn’t a pleasant one, but believe me you will forget any hardship you ever had to endure the very second you set foot in this glorious land of goodness and beauty. As I write, the sky above me is suffused with warmth and every colour imaginable and my mind looks eagerly forward to a restful sleep and another day’s sport. Think of it Bill, it’ll be just like the old days..you and I side by side, brothers in arms once again, only this time, there’ll be no bugger firing back at us. Speaking of sport old friend, I’m reminded by The Dear One to inform you that her young cousin Madeline has also written, telling of her intention to take to the water and sample life here at the camp. It appears (would you believe?), that she is expected to arrive shortly after your good self, so may I suggest you pack your finest attire along with your ammo and with any luck, in amongst the quarry, you may just find that you bagged yourself a particularly beautiful specimen! Yours with deep respect and great affection Archie
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A battered and broken typewriter lays in pieces on a floor in an abandoned mental asylum. I wonder how many of the inmates used this to write a letter home to loved ones?
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In the smallest acts, shall love be found / Watch me / Send me a Bubblemail Landscapes Water & Seascapes Black and White People and Portraits Architecture Urban images Europe
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Featured on homepage 22.03.09 / / / ! / / / / / / / / / /
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Yum Letter
by messa“Twin” design for “Love Letter’ t-shirt. :)
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By popular demand, in print form! Markers & pen in my sketchbook. I used Photoshop to balance out my typography. / Buy the t-shirt! / This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 2.5 Australia License
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BEST VIEWED LARGE. / www.danadipasquale.com / Close-up view / A door inside an abandoned train car
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. i watched / as you stole my night and day dreamed / while you danced with silence between here and there / same sky and same ocean go ride and find your magic / i’ll drown in this rain / in this corner and when the rain stops / if it ever stops / i’ll grow towards our sky / and fly away . o1.25.2oo9 / photo with nikon d90 / while driving in the rain .
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Photo of a street scene in 40’s Paris. I created this composite from a b&w photo of my mom – 1917-1996
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The wind blew the doors in / And came in unbidden / A cry heard itself / then was still, discovering itself
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I love you I really do.
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Thanks for viewing.
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449 views…an eternal flame, a gift of love & affection..A Love Letter’.. Nat ...a first experimental creation inspired by the song ‘Love letters straight from your heart’... ..
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Thank you for viewing.
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Thank you for viewing.
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LUST
by artistmindSeries: Jane Doe / title: LUST / ink, acrylic, pencil on paper 8×11”
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Many thanks for viewing.
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When I learned the song Au Claire de la Lune I was 9 years old and in my mind I saw this image very clearly. I guess I didn’t want the candle to be dead and I suppose I mixed up the candle and the death and the letter writing and the moonlight and love and princesses and all the other things little 9 year old girls think about into one colorful image. I’m really happy to be able to “see it for real” now. Corel Painter Essentials 4. / /
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Canon 350D / F/5 / 1/60seg / ISO-100 This is my first attempt at selective colouring…it has taken me forever to learn! / My little kitty trying for a double word score. Featured in Paws and Claws 30th November 2009
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