Possibility
334 creative works found
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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 The withdrawn analytical front, designed for most occasions.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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Imagine if this child could swap places with those on the other side of the wall. Even for a day. Imagine what he might find, what he might lose, what he might think. Imagine what he might do with his new-found privilege. Imagine. I imagine that’s what he’s imagining. The possibilities are endless.
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Sitting, waiting for the others in a church in Northern Rwanda, my eyes wandered, taking in the room. To tell the truth I was tired and bored and in need of a day off. Over the other side of the room sat this young man, alone. I’m not sure what he was doing there. Waiting for his Mother maybe? I wondered, should I take a shot? If he saw me it could be really uncomfortable. I mean I was really close and I couldn’t pretend I was photographing anyone else. Anyway I thought, ‘I’ll sneak a shot in.’ So, I raised the camera and started to muck around with the shot. And then he looked up. I cringed behind the lens and just sat there, frozen. He didn’t divert his gaze. For several seconds we stared at each other me on one side of the camera, him on the other. Finally I pressed the shutter. His expression remained exactly the same. I lowered the camera and returned his stare, this time with no mechanical device between us. It sounds corny but something travelled between us. An absolute realisation that we were right there, in the same place at the same time. He didn’t dismiss me or put me down. He stood right on the same level. It was unique.
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Took a different approach for the photoshpcreative07 competition and decided to reverse the concept. Here a lone survivor condemned to a future of infinite chaos manages to escape back into a alternate past of infinite possibility. This could be a physical escape or projected from within the travellers mind; an internal escape to fantasy, much like the ending of Brazil. Have since sold the image for use on the cover of the Griffith Review – yay.
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This shot is one of my favourites because it tells such a story. In the forground is a wallet being held by one of my colleagues Bart. He is buying the basket being held by the Rwandan woman in the middle of the shot. All eyes are on the transaction. This represents life and death in Africa as much as any other portrait. It is positive, but you can also feel the tension, the need, the hope. All proceeds to charity. I might even buy this myself. – Dog photography – Africa photography / - Beach photography - Black & white photography – Dog photography – Africa photography / - Beach photography - Monotone photography
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This shot is taken in the north of Rwanda near the DR Congo border. It showcases the absurd beauty of this broken land. Known as the land of one thousand hills Rwanda is bursting at the seams. This shots is part of the ‘world’s most expensive card’ promotion initiated by John Robb. It has raised close to $700 AUD so far.
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I tried to capture the essence of the quote…
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Imagine if this child could swap places with us? / Even for a day. / Imagine what he might find, what he might lose, what he might think. / Imagine what he might do with his new-found privilege. / Imagine. / I imagine that’s what he’s imagining. / The possibilities are endless. Also available as a Christmas card – Full size. /
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Surrealism. Come and explore the endless possibilities in the land of Bryce.
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I was in northern Rwanda in April 2007 as a volunteer with an aid group and we had stopped to talk with people at a local church. The town was Rhuengeri, it sits close to the border with the Democratic Republic of Congo and has the unfortunate reputation as having been home to a number of those who perpetrated the horrific genocide of 1994. / The atmosphere in Rwanda is one of pervading ‘brokeness.’ Millions of orphans live side by side with those who tortured and massacred their families 14 few, short years ago. Millions more suffer the newer enemy – HIV Aids and countless others wander ghost like in a state it seems of perpetual shock, haunted by the past and overwhelmed by the concept of a future. / This was April. The official month of mourning. When people publicly face what privately never leaves them. / I was sitting on a step tired and desperate for fresh air when I looked into the crowd that inevitably gathered wherever we were. / This woman, is by my guess perhaps 30 and she is as are most, dirt poor. / I was absolutely transfixed by her and her child. / She seemed to me to sum up so much of what I saw. / Love and desperation and yes, compassion. / Her breast is bone dry and cracked and yet she tries to feed her baby. Perhaps it is the hope inherent in the action which feeds her. / At the same time, she looks totally preoccupied by her struggle for survival. / What is she thinking as she gazes into the middle ground? / My thought is, ‘where is the next meal.’ Where will she get it from? How will she share it? And upon finishing it, where will she find the next one? / I was overwhelmed by seeing the reality of those who live literally from hour to hour, day after exhausting day. / It confronted me then. / It continues to confront me now. / – Dog photography – Africa photography / - Beach photography - Black & white photography – Dog photography – Africa photography / - Beach photography - Monotone photography
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Clinton, NJ – Nov 2007
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Acrylic painting
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Once in a young lifetime one should be allowed to have as much sweetness as one can possibly want and hold
by Natalia CampbellQuote by Judith Olney. Featured on Still Life and Food Photography Group /
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This calender consists of a series of ongoing portraits created through the process of stepping out of my own way and allowing collected imagery symbols mixed media and intuition to BECOME! Once upon a time…... I planned my art by doing a sketch or having an idea….at least a place to start. And once upon a time I realized there was more that needed expressing than my underused brain could imagine….and I have a GOOD imagination. This intuitive way of working was a necessary step in my own evolution as artist and being….to relinquish control….to learn to listen to my inner guide or higher self. I came to find during this exercise that ‘what I was asked to put on canvas’ seemed to make no sense at all …...just strange little pieces from nowhere…or so I thought yet as I was living my life I realized that it made no sense either. I concluded that this no sense or nonsense I was creating through my judgment actually reflects the innate sense we come from and all have,,,,THE BIG SENSE….....a sense beyond …....and so I trust this way of working more than I trust my way of working! LOL Enjoy IN JOY in whatever sense you can.
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Beautiful creature, wings lit by the Sun / Dancing life’s journey as if we were one Joyous soul with gossamer wings opened / Like minds’ receiving visions of hopin’... Endless possibilities await from Spirit above / Our souls shall renew through the magic of LOVE… tkrosevear 12/31/08 On the Wings of Love
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photographic manipulation / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-— / part two Infinite possibilità / —-—-—-—-—-—-—--
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imagine the possibilities. / Imagine the future. / Will it still hold the beauties of earth? / Lets cherish them while we have the chance. / Turn off your T.V. and go outside. / Spring has begun.
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“For me it’s a great visual metaphor to represent the journey from the “seen” – the mundane and bland – to the “unseen” that beckons when walking through the door – the dream, the hope, the extraordinary. If you don’t open up your mind and be prepared to take the journey through the door, you will never escape the trappings of the present…” / By monocotylidono / Thank you my friend for putting into words what i wanted this piece to mean! Featured on The homepage / Background used found on deviantart
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When all seemed / to go / nowhere, / a door just opens. Your heart beats / faster with / renewed hope. You enter that / door and, / oh my, / what a surprise! Another dead end. But what was that? / Oh no, the door shut / closed behind you. / You’re trapped. Oh, well! / All is not lost. / The sun is still / shining somewhere. Outside. And hey, / perhaps it’s not / all that bad: / at least, you are / all with your / precious Self. Nobody can / and / nobody will… All of a sudden / you realize / Forgiveness / is another / name for / Love. 14 July 2009 / —-—-—— Dead-end with unexpected possibility was featured in Freedom In Words and ART on 14 July 2009 —-—-——-
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abstract landscape series / view larger
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Part of our greeting card line Living Out Loud ! As greeting cards and prints in stores that carry Tree-Free. This image is also part of our “Living Out Loud” calendar: / © Angi Sullins & Silas Toball For inspiration visit the Message from the Muse Blog! For our gallery of inspirational and mytho-poetic art visit Duirwaigh Studios Duirwaigh Studios: / There you can find prints, greeting cards, calendars, books and more that will make perfect gifts. Plus our inspirational film “A Knock at the Door” and more…
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Cave Life was telling; / This is where she sees her shadow. / Deep tones of dark she never knew existed / breaking free seemed impossible / until they held each others hand. / . / All Havoc broke loose and so did her life / She Saw Patterns, Colors and light / And then she knew her light needed her shadow / to exist. Stock Photo: Stockvault.net
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Just don’t be surprised if it is you who bleeds, for blood is blood / . Nikon D90 – 18-200mm
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