Nikon D80 Nikkor 18-135/58mm 1/30@f/5.6 / / / ART / CIRCULAR QUAY & OPERA HOUSE AT NIGHT / SYDNEY / PANORAMAS / CLOUDS / COUNTRYSIDE / STILL LIFE / TENNIS / DOGS / MISCELLANEOUS
The Scream is basically a piece about violence against women, a subject that really sensitizes me not only for being a woman, but also for being human and for dreaming and working for a better world based on respect and equality. I didn’t want a piece that was oppressing or showed only the pain of the violence or abuse. I wanted something dynamic, that could have a “voice”, that could help people to reflect about how to change things. The symbolism of the piece is quite simple and direct. There’s a dual figure in the center. She might be the same woman in two different attitudes, if you like. The red-haired one is scared and in pain. She holds her bleeding heart and wears a mask to keep herself hidden from judgment or other losses. She might be the one who was raped in a party after drinking too much, the one who was abused for a family member but preferred to hide in order to do not cause disturbances in the family, the one who was beaten for her husband but kept silent for fear of losing her children. She might be one of the Congo women. She might be me, or you. The black-haired woman doesn’t wear a mask. She is screaming – although sometimes I think that she is in fact singing. What she releases from within herself is a bird, red as life. Is the desire for freedom from a world conquered by force, not love. She screams her right to be treated as a human being instead of a second-class citizen, as a partner instead of a subordinate. Her right to express her own ideas and have their own attitudes without being demonized for them. There are also masks at the bottom, a pile of masks without faces behind them. They once belonged to women who decided to scream instead of keep silent and anonymous. That decided to stop pretending that that’s how the world is and there’s nothing that can be done to change it. But there’s so much one can do just by having a voice… And use it to demand respect for being human is urgent.
Mixed media on Cartridge Paper. The image is an androgynous one, because lets face it feelings like this can happen to us all.
Stock pic of BG provided by Don Wright. http://www.eyefetch.com/image.aspx?ID=651251 “The childhood memories(or flashbulb pictures as they are commonly referred to) of my parents are all larger than life, looming demons of fury. Twisted angry faces, lunging at me quicker than I can get away from them, hands grabbing me, hitting me, HURTING me. Huge features…the point of view from the child who is physically much smaller than they are. I always try and remember that when I am dealing with my daughter. Get down on the floor…don’t tower over her when I’m angry. Fear is not want I want her to remember me by. / / It’s in me though…there have been moments of pure rage and fury when I have wanted to pick her up and force her to do my bidding. I walk away…I give myself a time out instead of giving her one. I found her in my arms once with that look on her face….she was scared. / I wanted to throw up. / I live everyday comparing myself to my parents. I’ve learned everything I should NEVER do from them. / If I do the opposite of what they would have done we might just be O.K. /
There are of course causes near and dear to my heart and this is one of them. This is the image that kept popping up in my head when I thought of AIDS. I was in high school in the 80’s and back then you were taught that AIDS was a homosexual disease and was barely glanced over in class. You closed your eyes to it; you did not talk about it. It was only a few short years later that it came to the forefront of our consciousness. I have personally been touched by AIDS (as we will all most likely be) through the lost of a friend and co-worker, Christopher, at the age of 36.
This was orginally made for a contest called The Emotion Project. Once again, an EXTREMELY old photo made around, 20/08/2005 hope you enjoy!
I wanted to convey a colder solitary feel with this. I was experimenting with poser and textures and actually had a different image in mind, a little happier one, but of course it turned out much darker themed than I expected. Of course all my turns out that! ;)
Studio shot using point source continuous lighting. Shame dolls by Ikea. Camera Model Name / Canon EOS 40D / Tv(Shutter Speed) / 0.5Sec. / Av(Aperture Value) / F4.0 / Metering Modes / (Metered externally) / Exposure Compensation / 0 / ISO Speed / 100 / Lens / EF17-40mm f/4L USM / Focal Length / 40.0 mm / Image size / 3888×2592 / Image Quality / RAW / Flash / Off / White Balance / Auto / AF mode / Manual (MF)
from the portraits of hope gouache pastel ink pencil and scratching
Another piece for my photography final “Fragmented Self Image”. Dealing with the idea of shame and regret, and living with it or choosing to “wash” it away. I’m too tired to write a good description (finals just ended!), but I think this is rather self-explanatory. The goo on my face is black tempera paint, the goo from my mouth is black food colouring with corn syrup. Yum! Messiest shoot ever… PS. I got an A!
Shamanic angel martyr hiding face with stigmata on the hands. Photo base illustration.
Sony Alpha 350, Tokina 19-35mm Lens, Focal Length 28mm, f4.0 @ 1/10 Sec Exp, ISO 100, Tripod, remote shutter release, ordinary household indoor lighting. RAW file converted to jpg, converted to b&w, minor adjustment of curves and levels. The LARGE view is worthwhile… FEATURED IN ‘ELITE CONTROVERSIAL ARTISTS’!
Watercolour on Paper 100cms x 70 or something x 2 as there are two of them hence the x 2 part. 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. The individual works are here, with a fair bit more text (finally figured out I was leaving out the colon on the linking process. Yay! Go go power Paul!)... The first piece is Blame Your Green Eyes / / The second… For What They Have Seen and the uncropped version Blame Your Green Eyes For What They Have Seen Uncropped OUR LITTLE DEATHS… / 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 - Paul Robertson, sometimes afraid of trees.
all tied up / in ribbons of shame / raw edges frayed with age / green eyed raven / plucks out the red / to feather a nest of rage / high in the…
featured in CORE and WMG
NSFW
At least its warm…
Her Life / Her World / Her Self this is her shame
I therefore dare not gaze inside / Fear glimpse the dreadful shame I hide
“Illusion” – A Collaboration / Photograph by: Jacqleen – California / Poem by: Leon A Walker – Florida A very special thank you to you “Jacqleen” for agreeing to work with me on this project and for providing this stunning image. You are tremendously talented Photographer! / Jacqleen
The Shame of loosing pool…2008 / Not really, but thought it was cute!
I shower naked. So naughty.
The Bob Mantis is an awful beast. It selects its victims, much like a female mantis choosing a partner. It promises a life of bliss, freedom and prosperity, then promptly chomps off the head of its new mate. The screams of the victims go unanswered by the world, which answers. “Yes, it is horrible, but that’s nature, what can you do?”
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