Seen
650 creative works found
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Background / Model / Butterflies Various brushes to create mist and light If you like this piece, please check out: / / /
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Took this photo on the last day of a vacation in Tassie. Spotted this old jetty and waited until the conditions were right before venturing out pre-dawn to take this 4.5 min exposure with a 3 stop GND. Brent
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For what they have seen. Watercolours on paper. 100 cms x 70 or so. Finally finished the second component of this diptych today the first piece is Blame Your Green Eyes / / The diptych… Blame Your Green Eyes, For What They Have Seen hm – erm sometime after Christmas 2007 but not too long cuz I just ate reheated PUDDING which was FANTASTIC even though it is made with suet. Damn. Shouldn’t have thought of that. No really. Damn. Am adding the song that I wrote from whence I took the titles to the two works… and to the diptych that contains them both. I am allowed. I’m special. Like Ralph in The Simpsons. OUR LITTLE DEATHS… (The chords also rock.) you nail my guitar to the bedroom wall / you lick your lips promise me more / take my nail polish, go out to score / but I can’t, I won’t help anymore. That final appointment waiting in line / A scar on the flesh of your inner thigh, / A casual promise and a white lie / Where the old bridge splits the hot night sky CHORUS / Our little deaths / Holding your breath / I’ll always be less / Always a mess / Ill never confess / To the cuts on my flesh / Or the tears on your dress / Are all we have left You carry the heat all bloody and keen / Hot with this fever since you were 15 / Stones you’ve kept for each lie you have been / Blame your green eyes, for what they have seen We kissed on the beach last Halloween. / And now we’ll never forget the shit we have seen / The hell in the wall the gorgeous machine / The tiny mad children that we have both been The model is my beautiful, kind and talented ex and friend, Kylie. She is way cool. She has a remote control darlek. I mean. That… is cool. ooh. Ah. Hm. Um. / / I feel like I am moving through milk with a switch of wine or something more course (vodka gin nicotine steel? – the sting of some deadly chemical) threaded through it. Heavy limbs and tingles in my hands and feet. I am considering, remembering. Hard to see. / One of the unique flaws I have. (Unique? Did I just have the fucking audacity to say that?) My memory seems to work in a slightly different way to the way I understand the rest of the human world’s to. This has been made far worse and far more absolute by the ECT (for those new to this particular acronym it stands for Electro Convulsive Therapy. Shock treatment. ST. ILA. I Love Acronyms.) This in that I have realised how little difference there is between my memory as affected by the treatment and my memory unaffected. Little. None? / Say to me of an experience shared, and I will ask of you for more and more specifics, until I can build an image, or a sound, or a SENSATION of some ilk specific to that point, and then the experience in its entirety will flood back into my mind. This is little different from the way everyone else experiences things, excepting, perhaps, the degree of cues needed to spark the fire of memory, and also the extent and exactitude of my recollection. Like a flaking mirror. Like tigers in tall grass. / Like zebras stacked and wrapped in horizontally striped black and white socks. / The interest lies, perhaps, in this specific shard. I do not believe I have more of a facility. I think I have less. I think that I am in this manner more stupid than the people that I know intimately. Than those that I read about. In some sense I am dumber, I guess. / I can’t see memory, anyone’s memory, as being a continual, smooth line of experience. / You can drop a lit match into turpentine and it will sizzle out. Also into petrol and methylated spirits. The flash point is over-ridden by the impact with liquid. Zz-sh. Fire-free. / We are formed by our memory and choice, and so much, oh so much so, by the threads of what we have found to be the most powerful and beautiful. I believe that what I have seen informs others of their beliefs and the tenets of morality that instruct them is in actuality some kind of AESTHETICS. Take me down to my essence, to where I brood in my hind brain animal honesty, and you will find this. I believe that it correlates with how everyone (yes, bathe in the light and beauty of this instinct) forms the core of their beliefs. How we are formed. / BY BEAUTY. / And then from an extension of one selection after another built partially from each other and extracted and separated each time by aesthetic appreciation every instance. / There is some inseparable connection here between memory and action. We remember in some unconscious manner what we have chosen to believe, what we have found most powerful in the past, what HOLDS MORE MEANING FOR US THAN ANYTHING IN OUR EXPERIENCE – and this informs us how we should ACT. How we answer the phone what we eat who we sleep with what pets we have our reaction to the flies buzzing around our brilliant heads, how we will SPEAK and what we will say. Every choice we make. What we are thinking of as we lie dying and which fucking CEREAL we pick. / These things link hands and tell us whisper to us. Beauty and memory. Instinct and experience. Move my hands over the dirty keys and glance outside into the hot white summer light. I choose. We choose. I am informed as to how to choose. By a process I don’t and perhaps can’t understand. / The way we move and behave is extracted by the shattered lines of our memory. It is NOT a procession of smooth and comprehensible awareness. / I think this is what is dictating what I am writing. / And since I feel that I am in this way DUMBER than others, well, hm, I am left in an ocean of unconnected experience. / Bleh. Maybe I am just being a wanker and reading into everything wayyyyy too much.
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On Brighton beach is a free boating museum, which was more just a collection of old bits and peices that didn’t work anymore. This one took my fancy and is now in my Red Bubble portfolio.
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Very controversial but , very cool. The ying to my yang!
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MAGNIFICENT THREE MINUTE SUNRISE SOUTH INDIAN RIVER DRIVE FT PIERCE FLORIDA MY CAMERA WAS MY CANON EOS ELAN 2E LENSE WAS CANON 18 TO 55 MM FILM WAS 400 ASA FUJICOLOR SUPERIA X-TRA LENSE SETTINGS F16 AT 50 TH OF A SECOND.
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Shot from Loughrigg fell overlooking Loughrigg Tarn in the English lake district national park . / Shot with a Nikon D70s and Nikon 18-70mm lens /
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A beautiful Florida Sunset taken in Ft Pierce Fla. A very unusual thing happened about 20 minutes after this photo was taken. A friend of mine called me on the phone and asked if I happened to get a photo of the amazing sun set? Of course how could I have not. Well he said my father just died at that same time and it was like a sign to me and I would appreciate you making a dozen large photos for my family. The next day I had them made brought them over to his home the whole famiy was all seated all around the large room, he introduced me and said I had something to show them. I pulled one of the large photos out and held it up every ones mouth dropped when he said his dad died as this sun set and it was he left into the clouds. The weared part to me was something told me that evening to take that photo and I don`t know why, as I left the black car for the funeral pulled up they all got in. Need less to say I was spiritually moved. One photo capture I will never forget.
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I captured this brillant sunrise on the Indian River Ft Pierce Florida
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my thoughts sometimes… as seen in dreams… three / acrylic on canvas / 24”x36” .
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Experimental Methods / MCN:CE879-756E3-044A8 Read You have the right on Active Art Words Ideas People
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There’s always a time in someone’s life, where they can be sure they’ve seen better days, and just can’t remember them. Unfortunately, it’s this guys turn. Soon, the sun will shine again.
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I’ve always been a fan of Superman, the powerful simplicity of his story (from Alan Moore’s Whatever Happened to The Man of Tomorrow? : “A perfect man who fell from the sky and did only good”) is only matched by the iconic immortality of his design. This is my variation on the S-shield, using the Arabic letter س “Seen”, which corresponds to the S. This is version two of the design; tried to make it look a bit more 3d and added a white border. Original design: ’’Seen’’ Shield
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Featured in the group Mountains and Mountain Light January 8, 2008. / . / Taken on September 6, 2008 … a glorious early morning in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, Echo Lake, Franconia Gorge, with the Nikon D40x and the 18-135mm lens.
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Taken at the M & T Bank Rainforest Falls, Buffalo Zoo, NY on 12/29/2008. A Canon 50D camera.
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Hmm .. This is more than likely my response to infomercials. As Seen On Tv: Morfland / Slylock-Stock / fetishfaerie-stock / EViL-KiTTie-stock / antihumanstock / Amaries-stock / Geek-stock / LuckyNumberE
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Watercolor on Fabriano 140 lb cold-press paper. Original size 11×14. / Portrait of an elderly woman who had seen more than her share of life.
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A reflection of me (as close to a self portrait as I want to come), in the eyes of a horse.
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I know this is rusted and paint looks sorta smeared but the to me that makes it what it is..a classic, and I like the Hudson emblem. Nikon D90 / 18-200mm VR Lens
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