Sorrow
1 member found
1379 creative works found
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photography: jo o’brien / model: jessica tremp
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“st. valentine’s massacre” designed by indie artist Eric Murphy of sadmachine.com Copyright 1996-2007.
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referenced off a photo by one of my favourite photographers – / http://memelsteak.deviantart.com/
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Fractal made in Apophysis Yet, O stricken heart, remember, O remember / How of human days he lived the better part. / April came to bloom and never dim December / Breathed its killing chills upon the head or heart. / Doomed to know not winter, only spring, a being / Trod the flowery April blithely for a while, / Took his fill of music, joy of thought and seeing, / Came and stayed and went, nor ever ceased to smile. Came and stayed and went, and now when all is finished, / You alone have crossed the melancholy stream, / Yours the pang, but his, O his, the undiminished / Undecaying gladness, undeparted dream. All that life contains of torture, toil, and treason, / Shame, dishonor, death, to him were but a name. / Here, a boy, he dwelt through all the singing season / And ere the day of sorrow departed as he came. Robert Louis Stevenson. In Memoriam F.A.S.
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Dedicated in loving memory of Mitch LeFever. (May 10,1973-January 17,2008) / Rest in peace my dear….I love you. xoxoxo
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100% digital free. 4×5 b&w film + darkroom. * / burn
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“That which the dream shows is the shadow of such wisdom as exists in man, even if during his waking state he may know nothing about it…. We do not know it because we are fooling away our time with outward and perishing things, and are asleep in regard to that which is real within ourself.” / ~Paracelsus / —-—-—-—-—— / photo taken at tedford power plant / more photos online at www.abandonedamerica.org
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A brief candle; both ends burning / An endless mile; a bus wheel turning / A friend to share the lonesome times / A handshake and a sip of wine / So say it loud and let it ring / We are all a part of everything / The future, present and the past / Fly on proud bird / You’re free at last. - written by Charlie Daniels, en route to the funeral for his friend, Ronnie Van Zant of the band, Lynyrd Skynyrd. / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-- / all rights reserved. photo taken at teton state hospital. / more of my work is available at www.abandonedamerica.org
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something was wrong with him. every time he looked in the / mirror he became more certain of it. every passing day / widened a chasm, a certain kind of emptiness within him. it / was something he could see in his eyes, a hollowness where / some fundamental building block of humanity was supposed to / be but was not. he could still talk and smile, and seemed to / function well around people, but he knew it must be because / they hadn’t sensed yet that he had a labyrinth of knowledge in / which he had somehow become lost. in his dreams he was / always wandering in the forlorn husks of things that had once / been magnificent but now only echoed his seething discontent / at his own imperfection. the way that he had entered was / sealed and these places in which he had once sought refuge / from the capriciousness of the world were now his prison. each / corridor he tried to exit by only led to more empty rooms, / more places where people had once been but no longer were. / even when he was externally surrounded by others the world / had become a wasteland; the very dimensions had shifted so / that all welcoming things before him were shadows and smoke. / the vaulted ceilings of his most precious hopes were slowly / crumbling and the machinery that drove his will to continue / had ground to a halt. though it was hard to define the outline of it, there was a / certain kind of emptiness about his features. he wondered why / no one else noticed. / —-—-—-——- / picture taken at portside power plant. all rights reserved. / more of my work is available at abandonedamerica.org
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photo taken in the communicable disease hospital at isle de las gaviotas / perhaps one of the most difficult locations to access that there is :) / more of my work is on my website, www.abandonedamerica.org
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broken pieces / colour fading / heavy stem / heavy laden / / double burden / bending lower / seeds have fallen / moving slower / / but we are one / you and I / in life we lived / and death we die / / to the earth / we make our nest / our summer journey / laid to rest / / 2 headed dandelion my son brought to me from the yard / / Double Feature & Featured in: Sold! / sold: matted print / / Laminated Print / / / / Framed Print / / / *Large print available upon request /
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Emotive piece of art drawn in Graphite Pencil…L K Southward- Iconic Art UK Nominated for ‘Pay it Forward’ by Andy Mueller IPA “I have so many favorite works of art on the bubble that it is tough to narrow it down to just one. But every time I see this one, I know it is the one piece that triggers the most emotion out of me. So, I’d love to submit my Pay It Forward to a wonderful British Artist L K Southward and her graphite pencil drawing called “This is your son”. Every time I see this drawing, I have tears welling up in my eyes. It is such a strong piece of work, and she clearly is a very talented artist.” Featured in the group THE EEG on 9th May 2009 Featured in the War – lest we forget group for the 141st Memorial Day (1868-2009) Featured in the Pencil Drawing group on 13th September 2009 Original drawing sold on 29th April 2009
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This for you Terez , my lovely daughter , she died when she was nearly 15 …… Thank you my friends your comments and support mean a lot to me. I had this pain bottled up in me so so long… but I knew and hoped with time passing things will change and turn out good… I was right, things started to unfold last week and I could just see and feel it. Working with this wonderful model just inspired me and brought all those feelings up from my heart, bones and my most inner part. I loved every minutes of it and it gave me a wonderful peace of mind Original oil painting on canvas, 100cmX100cm Thank you dear Anna-Marie for this beautiful song here: ANGEL TEARS / / by ANAISNAIS Gentle drops of Angel tears / Once more she drifts to sleep / Anaesthetised and full of hope / Of faith, of love, so deep A dark, dark mass looms in her form / A cancer cold and stark / They try to cut it all away / She’ll wake with mornings Lark They do the tests – they come to us / “There’s more” – is what they say / She begs us – not to make a fuss / She’s tired, asks us to pray She wakes in small hours and holds us tight / She says it’s time to leave / Be happy for her for she’ll be alright / Small tears stain her virgin cheeks Somewhere in the dark cold hours / She drew her final breath / Her brave yet quiet and Godly thoughts / Resound this Angels death I think of things she would have done / Watch as other children play / I work to help others as if she’d won / Life’s battle on that day I know she looks upon those souls / She’d smile and talk so calm / And in their fears she’ll comfort them / In loving Angel’s arms Our little daughter oh so young / Yet old in pain wise years / Reminds me daily of all kids past and / Gentle drops of Angel Tears http://www.redbubble.com/people/anaisnais
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photo taken at rosevale institution if you get a chance, my new book is available, please take a look at: / www.blurb.com/bookstore/detail/494773 you can read about it there, but it has a lot of high quality prints of my work. and as always, please visit my site abandonedamerica.org if you’d like to see more of my work. thanks and i hope you have a great holiday.
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it’s easy to only focus on the sadness inherent in an old derelict building like teton. / when you know the misery in the history of a asylum, and you see / only the ruins of what it once was, you sometimes become blinded / by the macabre and morose, by thwarted hopes and unchecked corruption. / if this is all you see – in an abandoned building, in your own life, in the world around you / it’s easy to feel that perhaps it would be best to erase it all, to hide everything away / so deep that it can’t encroach upon your fleeting comforts and contentment. / but, in this place where such terrible, tragic things occurred / there is something else that resides there – sometimes in the brilliant green ivy / that works its way into cracks and crevasses the way lovers’ fingers entwine, / sometimes in the softness of the wind, or the stillness of untouched afternoon sunlight – or / the way gravity welcomes the falling rafters back to the earth and time / absolves its past in the oblivion of unmolested sleep. teton had such beauty – in / the sincerely charitable ambitions that built it, in the graceful forms of its architect’s true design, / in the naive hope of the many who genuinely believed it could bring a cure for the ill, / and in those confined who stole friendships and dignity from the greedy hands of / disgrace and neglect. if you can’t see these things, you’ll never understand why i do what i do. / photographs capture slivers of time. they preserve a point of view, a moment / that would otherwise be forever lost. if you seek truth through them, / maybe you can illuminate the soul of a thing, and maybe show someone else / the proud glory and splendor of the forgotten and forsaken. / the triumphs and frailties of human endeavor may now be heard only in echoes, / but i guarantee you if you are quiet and you listen / you will hear not screams of agony and anguish, but the sweet serenity of final release. / if you approach the past with humility and reverence in your heart you’ll realize that / immortality is not something anyone can ever capture – but if you are very lucky, / through a photograph perhaps you may capture a glimpse, / a fleeting moment of something that, in its own abstract and inexplicable way, / proves beyond a doubt that nothing ever dies. / —-—-—-—-—-—-- photo taken at teton state hospital / more of my work is on www.abandonedamerica.org / please check out my new book, filled with photos and text – the link is on my site’s main page!
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Credits: / _http://faestock.deviantart.com / http://lindowyn-stock.deviantart.com / http://little-stock.deviantart.com / and my own — COPYRIGHT © NOTICE !— / / All my artworks are copyrighted © Amy Iulya 2007-2008 .You may not use,copy,edit my works under my written permission ! / If u have any question send me an email.
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ⓒAimee Stewart, Foxfires – please see my CC Terms of Use before considering using this image for any personal or commercial use http://foxfires.deviantart.com/journal/15905899/ / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—- “Cast your eyes on the ocean / Cast your soul to the sea / When the dark night seems endless / Please remember me…” Loreena McKennitt Many thanks to the following stock artists: Model: :icontrinket-stock: Original stock photo here: http://www.deviantart.com/deviation/18143297/ / Mask: http://www.sxc.hu/photo/304218 / textures: :iconresurgere: created by :icondholms: / Hair Brushes: :icondarkresources: http://darkresources.deviantart.com/art/Hair-Brushes-32651632
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canon 20D dslr / editing in CS3
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Watercolor and pencil on illustration board, / 10×8 / 2009 Model: Adhara Batul One of the Greek myths I adore the most, for its incredible strength, poetry and significance, is the myth of Persephone. In Greek mythology, Persephone was the goddess of the underworld and of the Spring growth. Daughter of Demeter, goddess of the harvest, she was abducted by Hades and taken to the land of the dead. By a determination of the Fates, she was forced to stay for two seasons each year after eating pomegranates seeds, thus becoming consort of Hades and queen of the underworld. This time I opted by depicting her sorrow and solitude after having the seeds, although there’s quite an air of resignation with her destiny.
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