Paint weathered
313 creative works found
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Mixed medium painting of an abstract with desert earth tones.
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Oil painting /
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An old wooden fishing boat sits on the shore of Burwash lake in western Yukon Territory in complete dereliction. Years of use and the brutal weather has began to chip away at the many layers of paint. Burwash, YT, Canada October 2007
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This is how rainbows are created. =3 Done with oil pastels on cardboard (normal pencil for outlines).
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This building was once home to the largest used book store in Newfoundland. They had over 100,000 books at one time many of them old and rare. The owner decided to sell everything off cheap and retire. The historic building has been empty now for a couple of years. I missed the sale . . . ..................................... / Click here to add me to your watch list. / .....................................
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mixed media on wood. 24” x 36” i keep a grey bin full of photo copies, pictures cut out from magazines, polaroids, various papers, etc. as i work, i dig through it looking for elements that will fit in, compliment, or otherwise enhance the outcome of the painting… the leaves fall to the hard soil as winter sets in / there is an echo / hunger and longing drowns / and drowns / the night grows longer / a restless mind does not sleep / a thin blue-grey welcomes the dawn / the weary returns to the cave
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watercolour, ink & tea on paper
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Beyond the paint chips / the splinters / the warn away corners / Beyond the ivy / that burrows / into deep crevasses You will find me / Waiting Exposed My sweetheart and I found this on a day trip to downtown Omaha, Nebraska. It was in a salvage yard waiting for someone to take it home. I wish that someone was me! / Kradam wrote a wonderful poem inspired by this photograph. / Read Portal to My Soul You’ll enjoy it! Canon PowerShot G6
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Chipped & peeling paint on weathered wood bench in the village / K20D Flake / Top 10 One Dominate Color JPG Cast offs challenge Sept 2009 / Featured in Alphabet Soup August 2009 / Top 10 Abstract Macro Urban Art/Peeling Paint June 2009 / Top 10 Natural Texture/Peeling Paint May 2009 / Featured in Natural Texture May 2009 / Featured in Visual Texture Apr 2009 / Top 10 Rustic/Weathered Wood challenge Apr 2009
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The street was crowded with shouts and chanting. Posters with slogans I didn’t understand moved along Main Street like thicken blood in veins too clogged with soot to notice. Faces turned to the distance and then waved aside the shoulders of police to stare into me or beyond me or through me or into cameras or maybe knowing that my two eyes saw everything as an abstract painting and they didn’t want to be abstract. The proud wrinkles shouted to be seen and be remembered for the hardship that had etched its way into flesh. No, you can not turn away, you can not cover me with cosmetics, you can not still the motion of music and feet shuffling along sidewalks that once were dirt. My dirt. Their dirt. Our dirt. The land that formed everything and out of which we grew. Before cement towers blocked the view to the sea. Before garbage covered the ashes. / The ashes. The ashes. Burning limbs from a sun that sets only once some days and twice when it feels the mood. Burning wind that torches leaves and dries the dreams of soldiers of the theater. Ashes that were baked onto the hillsides before they held mosaics of naked colors and hungry lights. Ashes that were blown from nature’s own breath and will still blow again and always even as merchants try to sell hot dogs to musicians and music sells to thin, clogged ears and ears are covered from the sound that the hands have created so that nobody realizes what is really happening. Nobody hears the clapping. / Blinded. Blinded by the brain’s efforts to see more and hear more and be more and sell more and buy more until there is no more and more has no meaning because it is less. Less. Less. / Yes the street was crowded. Yet I saw only one face. And that was enough.
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Inspired by Janis Zroback’s Door Series.
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ORIGINAL FOR SALE $899 plus P&H This is the oil painting done from the photograph I took of the same name. Rhyll, Phillip Island, Victoria. I loved the photo so much I just had to paint it and so I used a large canvas (1m x 800) and just went for it! It was a very cathartic process and yielded a great result! Stormy Weather: Etta James
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White sands and snowflakes floated about the rust-colored fog as Mr. Kimberly traveled with freckled feet across loose boards and headed toward a thin blank spot on the horizon. Kimberly reached with sweating, shaking hands for a flagpole that wasn’t really there. / “I was meant to be king,” He shouted at slivers of shadow and clouds of unknown closed eyes that studded a brick wall. He fell. And in falling, his dreams became reality. As soon as he stopped trying to breath he was able to feel the curtains of doom raise like a theater’s opening night. / As his body molded onto weathered wood moorings, he felt for a hand to grasp with his own hand, with his own heart, with his own brain that fizzled like frying eggs on a platter. He reach farther and farther. It felt empty. Yet he knew intuitively that there was something there. Something strong inside the void. And then he felt it. The emptiness that was as full as a lover’s arms, as full as a mother’s eyes, as full as a friend’s laughter. / Kimberly held on. Tight. Not for dear life. For it was too late for that. He held on to eternity. And it held him back. Dark Shoreline is acrylic, India ink and gesso on paper / 15”x22”
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Visitor Upon the Winds See this Visitor Upon the Winds? / His mission is clear to him: / Pummel and raze and eviscerate. See this Visitor Upon the Winds? / His arm shatters mountains, / His breath twists oceans. See this Visitor Upon the Winds? / His mission is destruction. / Ferocity is his life. See this Visitor Upon the Winds? / He doesn’t see you. / Or care. We’re under a Severe Thunderstorm Warning right now…not the worst thing, and it looks like things should be OK. But I’ve been in a tornado (just a small one) and I’ve witnessed a boat founder in a waterspout. This image is dedicated to all the people who have fallen victim to the incredible destruction caused by these Visitors Upon the Winds. This image is an edited fractal that I painted. It’s the first time I’ve tried to do a painting of a figure on a fractal (although I’ve added lots of brushstrokes to add shapes and colors to fractals). I’m waaaaaaaay out of my comfort-zone with this one, so I hope someone likes it! / / / / /
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Where will I go ? What shall I do ? / All questions for the future…. Straight from my Canon A630. Featured in Newfangled nonedited photography. Written by Erhan : The place you belong to is / The place you feel your home, / The place where you feel the peace / Inside of your heart, / Your mind with “no minds”… / THe door leads you to / The place where you belong to / THe place; / Inside of your heart.. October10, 2009 / Erhan OZBIYIK
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Abstract macro photography rust and paint on metal. Severe Weather Warning Card Severe Weather Warning Matted Print Severe Weather Warning Laminated Print Severe Weather Warning Mounted Print Severe Weather Warning Canvas Print Severe Weather Warning Framed Print Features: Severe Weather Warning was featured in / All Abstract Art / The Fine Art Of Peeling Paint / The Art Of Intrigue /
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I found these colours so beautiful on another great door I came across. Straight from my Canon A630. Featured in The World As We See It , or as we missed it.
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Abstract macro photography paint on metal. / A windy day in October was featured on the RB Home Page November 9/09 A windy day in October – Greeting Card A windy day in October – Matted Print A windy day in October – Laminated Print A windy day in October – Mounted Print A windy day in October – Canvas Print A windy day in October – Framed Print Features: A windy day in October was featured in Abstract Macro Urban Art / A windy day in October was featured on the RB Home Page November 9/09 RedBubble
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Featured in JPG Cast-Offs Oct 09 A macro image of a green dump bin which has been knocked by a heavy vehicle
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EDT…it’s the edge of winter…snow, wet, dark, light, night, day…a time when S.A.D is pre-eminent…it takes time to adjust, and some wait in limbo for EDT in March, but some embrace the changes…I don’t like the dark that sets in so early, so I have daylight bulbs in all my lamps…six weeks from now it’s the solstice and we start looking forward to lighter days Thomas Hood expresses it beautifully for us Watercolour on Sennelier Not Paper CLICK HERE TO SEE THE ENTIRE WINTER COLLECTION No sun-no moon! / No morn-no noon! / No dawn-no dusk-no proper time of day- / No sky-no earthly view— / No distance looking blue .. No road-no street- / No “t’other side the way”- / No end to any Row- / No indications where the Crescents go .. No top to any steeple- / No recognitions of familiar people- / No courtesies for showing ‘em— / No knowing ‘em! No mail-no post- / No news from any foreign coast- / No park-no ring-no afternoon gentility- / No company—no nobility .. No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, / No comfortable feel in any member— / No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, / No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds, / November!...Thomas Hood / Effet De Neige
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“Spellbound” is part of the Winter and Portrait Collection…the painting captures the feeling of submitting ones own will to the tyrannical demands of the storm….my portrayal is one of a goddess of winter…with the red berries in her hair, she embodies its stillness, its sense of silence, darkness, and bitter cold..the falling snow is a “poem of the air,” wrote Longfellow, where the “troubled sky reveals the grief it feels.” / Winter is a time to concentrate on renewing and affirming human relationships. Watercolour on Arches Not Paper… VIEW THE ENTIRE WINTER COLLECTION HERE The night is darkening round me, / The wild winds coldly blow; / But a tyrant spell has bound me / And I cannot, cannot go. The giant trees are bending / Their bare boughs weighed with snow. / And the storm is fast descending, / And yet I cannot go. Clouds beyond clouds above me, / Wastes beyond wastes below; / But nothing dear can move me; / I will not, cannot go...E. Bronte / Forever Autumn VIEW THE ENTIRE PORTRAIT COLLECTION HERE
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Acrylic on canvas board. I used to travel on circuit throughout the central North Island of New Zealand, and the stretch of country from Rotorua through to Whakatane always fascinated me. Many times I managed to squeeze in a few minutes to sketch or take a photo. I never saw it looking like this – but that’s what’s called artist’s licence, isn’t it!
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