Sin
4 members found (show all)
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Sinéad Costello
United Kingdom
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The Tales of S...
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Vy-Shane Sin Fat
877 creative works found
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Hailing from Cheng Du, Capital City of Hell, Pride has been alive in the universe since the birth of the first human race. Pride also enjoys a thick Habana cigar. Medium: Indian ink and gray wash.
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Taken as a 10 shot merge (from me runnig the stairs) at a trainstation (Mjolby – Sweden) waiting for a transfer. Xmas holidays 2008 Canon EOS 400D / Sigma 17-70 / F2.8-4.5 / ISO 100 / f/11 / multiple exp’s / 17mm CS4 for vignetting & levels More works can be found over at DeviantART / and / rdblanche.com
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P/S Retouched by Ange in collaboration with Ingrid Sjodahl. Digital photograph shot by Greg Parsons in collaboration with Ingrid Sjodahl, 2007. Models: Liz, Greg Parsons. I retouched face, hair & recreated arched eyebrows for further definition; left eye was ‘opened’ up to match right eye (in the original shot she appears half asleep). Ingrid added b/w desaturated tone, painted lips, corset bodice lace & sheet in red tone. Original shot below.
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Hailing from Cheng Du, Capital City of Hell, Pride has been alive in the universe since the birth of the first human race. Pride also enjoys a thick Habana cigar. Medium: Indian ink and gray wash and Photoshop CS2.
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Wash away my sins…and help me forget, for it hurts too much without you… My first attempt at photomanipulation using stock. The background is all mine though. Gotta love Michigan summer storms! Well Ok fine! Michigan summer storm clouds, since the lightening is painted :) My entry in the LLD5 competition. Credits / Model / Foilage Brushes For more products featuring this image visit Karri’s Store This piece was featured in The Graphic Room-Graphic and Digital Art group and A Photographer’s Craft. THANK YOU!!
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an earhart chappel photo. ORIGINAL SIN. / “THE APPLE” / / TEMPT / APPLE / RED / AND DELICIOUS. /
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One can find Hell amongst the living of everyday life, / no need to fear the afterlife. / Retribution transcends even in the one’s without faith. Acrylic paint on canvas.
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an earhart chappel photo. / earhart photographed. / chappel on costume design,hair,makeup and props. / model for pride is kb. PRIDE / CARRIES / A VERY HEAVY WEIGHT.. / AND IT IS ONE OF THE SEVEN DEADLY! / DOES SHE SEE HER SELF ABOVE ALL OTHERS?
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Greed is excessive or uncontrolled desire for or pursuit of money, wealth, food, or other possessions, especially when this denies the same goods to others. It is generally considered a vice, and is one of the seven deadly sins
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See No Evil Stock: Model: EViL-KiTTie-stock / Texture: amptone-stock, deadcalm-stock and nighty-stock The rest was brushwork
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Bitumen and Oils on canvas 90×60cm / I gave this to my girlfriend. Sinn is her name. She is an angel. I wrote on it a distortion of a biblical quote, scratched into the paint the sharp chewed end of a paintbrush - / “Take this as a seal upon thy heart, / as a seal upon thy arm / for love is strong as death.” This is the new part about why, that I wrote today: Somehow… / In the last few weeks… / A New medication. And in the bizarre atypicalities of my neurochemistry, I have begun to rise from this hell. As I have from others. As I will fall and fight free to make and make and love and love… as I will forever fall and fight, till I fight no more. / For the first time in 12 long months – In slow moments of a year composed of weeping with terror at each excruciating sliver of time… this year that has etched and aged its crawling minutes on my face ageless always until this; past its due. / New meds. / And. They are working. I will heal. / I have a different kind… a new understanding of hope; / This, unlike its sisters in their cruel pollution of horror and knowledge… / Hope and terror are diametrically antipodean twins. They die without each other. Antithetic. And symbiotic. And now, well… My hope is as clear as the carbon lattice perfection of a diamond edge. that was the NICE PART that is NEW / VERY VERY VERY NEW this is the REST. It is less nice and was written barely two weeks ago. I completely understand if none read this much. I can paint again! I am offering free hugs and ironic weird comments from an odd angle for EVERYONE too! CHRONIC PAIN AND PAUL… Chronic Pain and me. Why I ain’t been painting all that much (actually I have, just badly. No. Really.) I don’t know if the pain will end. In truth it terrifies me. I am not one easily frightened. / It has already cost me a year. Even when everything else, all the madness for so many years, were not enough to start aging my face. This has. It is too strong, too much. Without painkillers, there is nothing else. No thought. It clouds my mind so completely that I had blamed myself for its very existence and more than that, for the core of its aetiology. / It is not my fault. / There is a scene in the film ‘Good will hunting,’ where the genius Robin Williams and the younger genius Matt Damon are in Mr William’s office. He says “It’s not your fault.” / Over and over. Will Hunting looks annoyed, then enraged, disbelieving. Eventually he collapses into tears and into the wise and knowing arms of Robin William’s character. His psychologist, believe it or not. Matt Damon and Robin Williams nailed that scene, and also in the same manner drove a steel spike into the heart of self-blame. / Will Hunting knew in his mind that there could be no blame laid at his feet for being beaten as a child. But he could never, even with all his own genius, convince his heart that this was true. / I blamed my SELF. I deluded myself that I deserved the brutal extremity of this pain. So, much like Mr Damon’s character, I lied to myself and subsequently suffered, and fucked up my life. Humbly. In this matter, I admit it. I am a fucking hypocrite. I understand self-loathing, spent so much of my life wasted in its claws and I find it difficult to take in others. I have spent endless hours with broken men and women trying to show them how wrong they are in the passion of their hatred for themselves. I have burned a year of my existence doing precisely that, in agony. I dated a kind woman, and she had some powerful painkillers that she had left from back surgery. I was at this point able to admit to myself that 1/ I was in FUCKING PAIN MOST OF THE TIME. and b/ it was not my fault at all. It allowed me the time to see without doubt that the pain I was and am experiencing has nothing to do with anything that I have done. In the mean time the pain has worsened. In the last few weeks this has increased by multiples. / What I believe is happening is not truly a belief, but only a – suspicion? A guess, mildly educated. / The madness has been contained. The damage to my thalamus has, to anthropomorphise a neutral biological process, found another outlet for its grief and rage. Instead of changing my moods and causing me hallucinations… it is causing me illusory pain. It IS an illusion only in the sense that my skin is not in reality alight and burning. But don’t you see, you must see, please look hard enough… it is much worse this way is worse this means more because I CAN’T I can NEVER put the fucking FIRE OUT! / The worst of this situation is that the pain is more disabling than the madness was. It will not kill me, though sometimes I wish for this and would see it as a tender caress of mercy. It won’t, and the madness would have. So I am alive. / But I cannot work. If I am in physical pain I cannot… it is impossible for me to paint. For the last year I have forced myself to whilst I have been in pain. I have produced more slowly than ever for manifold reasons, the chief of which being that I can’t see. Somehow I produce ugly lines and uglier colours. I have spent almost all of this time painting over the beauty that I had created whilst without pain… In those few hours that I cradle to my heart and hold so sweet (one form of True bliss is the cessation of pain.) In a state of some kind of grace I can barely imagine right now. / Therefore. Yes. Draw the conclusion like pus from a wound. But draw it I must: that I cannot even draw. / The dreams that I had that were not dreams at all but logical conclusions… of fame and fame and fame and fame. They have proven to be, for now, false indeed. It is breaking me. Breaking me. / For right now, once again, I am an invalid. I have… little. For all that I have fought. It is… hard to hold on. I have a good woman who looks after me. This means more than I can describe. I have her, and that is a wondrous thing. A miracle that I should meet someone unselfish after allowing into my life so many who have taken from me and taken and taken. / I do not know how to effect change. I have little time to plan wherein my thoughts are not torn from me by brutal physiological assault; by agony. I am giving up my space here in the city and moving to share with my father once more. / The pain, unedited by the dilution of prescription medication, is colossal. It is taking my life from me. It steals my breath from me. I wake and – it is there. Stunning, so fucking violent and I can’t breathe, I cannot. I have fled from hope in rational terror as from a betrayer, traitor, monster. / Sometimes, many times. Yes. There is no breath to scream. The last weeks… / Somehow… / In the last few weeks… / A New medication. And somehow in the bizarre atypicalities of my neurochemistry, I have begun to rise from this hell. As I have from others. As I will fall and fight free to make and make and love and love… as I will forever fall and fight, till I fight no more. / For the first time in 12 long months – In slow moments of a year composed of weeping with terror at each excruciating sliver of time… this year that has etched and aged its crawling minutes on my face ageless always until this; past its due. / New meds. / And. They are working. I will heal. / I have a different kind… a new understanding of hope; / This, unlike its sisters in their cruel pollution of horror and knowledge… / Hope and terror are diametrically antipodean twins. They die without each other. Antithetic. And symbiotic. And now, well… My hope is as clear as the carbon lattice perfection of a diamond edge.
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My entry for Seven Deadly Sins challenge / Other Yanmos t-shirts / /
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If you would like to purchase any of my art in a larger format, please contact me. Other works by Earthairfire:
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I used four different photos and additional elements to compose this piece which was inspired by the Tori Amos song Original Sinsuality.
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Created 2 years ago for a series on the 7 Deadly Sins! If you are a fan of my work / I need your votes! / Please visit my journal Many thanks Toastedghost / X
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mixed media on wash&draw paper A3 .. inspired by conversation with DAMcD and some Roy Skogvold’s works / .. visual contemplation on the nature of ‘sin’ as being an integral part of our human make up … symbolism of gold /silver colour to accentuate the preciousness ( preciousness of the perceived value we often attach to our sinful preoccupations as well as preciousness intended for our bodies) ... bright colors for a loving design … blots and drips to symbolize the tainting of the otherwise perfect relationship between the Creator and the Creature …... / ... there is a traditional categorization of sins … these days perhaps rather outdated by realization that sin as such does not really hold some exact categories …. nevertheless I am upholding – very loosely – these categories for the sake of series of images on this theme …. armed with my sons ‘atlas of human anatomy’ .... looking more closely and lovingly onto “the clay” we are all made up of …..
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This piece inspired my own writing of Sovereignty Sovereignty Hey YOU in the middle of your life / Like a dripping faucet / I am irritated that you won’t turn off the / Works Full of cumbersome toothless lies / You are saturated! / Sin / What a word! / Let he who is without a stones throw / From paradise / Lend a hand here! Your Tommy drum drum / Beating ho hum ho hum / Beating and bleating the songs / Yet to come / Undone heroes / Spies sent to zero / Frozen think tanks / Sovereignty marries Mountebank / Oh what a Union / Jack Park Avenue parades / Your life’s works * charades* Pay off the piper so you can begin again / Meaningless waste that your fingertips wont / Taste / You grab and I think maybe that’s the only way / To make it / Grab it / Suck it / Fuck it! Your old and your children run blind around the world / You dream of monopolizing the air we breathe / And the water that feeds everything / Everything! You dream of such implosions / Come down to erosions (never lasts) / Impossible life styles / That you think will fatten your coffers / But they bleed your soul / Your tender soul / Struck down in mindful seclusion / (your closed off from love) / Bats in your belfry are delusions / Of fluttering here and there / For mindless senseless snares / For the blood of others / For the test of time / Now what? / We lay waiting / For the next time around / Do you believe in the speed of sound? / Do you believe in your own mother’s belly? / Succulent with your simple birth / Died knowing your worth-less / The less of the more / The mother begat the whore But I wanna know one thing? / When we do this again, / Next time round / You wanna play the angel? Linaji 2009
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mixed media on wash&draw paper A3 / .. inspired by conversation with DAMcD and some Roy Skogvold’s works / .. visual contemplation on the nature of ‘sin’ as being an integral part of our human make up … symbolism of bronze/gold/silver colour to accentuate the preciousness ( preciousness of the perceived value we often attach to our sinful preoccupations as well as preciousness intended for our bodies) ... bright colors for a loving design … blots and drips to symbolize the tainting of the otherwise perfect relationship between the Creator and the Creature …... / ... there is a traditional categorization of sins … these days perhaps rather outdated by realization that sin as such does not really hold some exact categories …. nevertheless I am upholding – very loosely – these categories for the sake of series of images on this theme …. armed with my sons ‘atlas of human anatomy’ .... looking more closely and lovingly onto “the clay” we are all made up of …..
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Following on from Pride is ‘Envy the Sin’ in the Sin series. Medium: Indian ink and gray wash.
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For the A T-Shirt 7 Sins Competition. / 4th Place.
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