Surprise
1315 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 The withdrawn analytical front, designed for most occasions.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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Flavour attack or should i say colour attack. / Vegies are good for you!
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In Yatina, a tiny town just south of Jamestown – a post office, a couple of houses and this, once imposing two storey establishment. Further investigation has revealed that the town once had two churches, a school (1879-1952) and lots of sport!
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This is an original acrylic painting of the bright pink bloom of a hedgehog cactus. I had a cactus like this at one time and it would bloom vibrantly once each summer. .
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what a character, so quick on his feet, that onion-boy!
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Sunset comes to the Central Shortgrass Prairie in Southeastern Colorado near Comanche National Grassland.
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Many people find a fascination with youth, beauty and the advancement of old age. As we all know looks fade and with age, there is another source / of beauty despite the wrinkles and apparent signs of aging that we all must face in what has been referred to as “the croning years.” In Western culture, there is so much emphasis on external beauty that women and men feel compelled to find surgical solutions, creams, botox, liposuction and any method possible to slow down the aging process and retain the appearance of youth. For hundreds of years we in the West have been taught to deny ourselves. “Mind over Matter” is a time-honored maxim that has merit in treating illness, but the danger is that true body wisdom or the messages we receive about our bodies must be ignored or denied. Every magazine gives us methods of ridding ourselves of undesirable pounds and the newest trends and fads for reversing the aging process. One woman born in the Netherlands and moved to the United States expressed her pain about her anorexic daughter who did not feel accepted or physically attractive unless she was frightfully thin. Her mom asked, what happened to the idea of “aging gracefully?” She felt that her elderly mother was more beautiful with age and the wrinkles on her aging face showed a wisdom and inner beauty that was absent in youth. Observing her daughter’s fierce compulsion to stop the clock and pursue anything that would mask the aging process was very painful to her mother, an immigrant to the United States who had enjoyed values that helped her deal with aging and the passage of time. She told me that the term “immigrant grief” described her inability to teach her daughter who was in her mid thirties that she was more beautiful now than ever before. Many women and men can not face aging and the general result is that the body and its functions have been relegated to the shadow side of life;regarded as dark and possibly evil. As Jung points out, “The body is a most doubtful friend because it produces things we do not like;there are too many things about the body which cannot be mentioned. The body is very often the personification of the shadow of the ego. Sometimes it forms the skeleton in the cupboard, and everybody naturally wants to get rid of such a thing.” We need our animal selves, our bone, muscle, and instinct-laden physicality to survive on this planet. One wonders why we as a culture have become so anti-body, as our very flesh were a disease against which we must wage war. Jung hoped that “we can reconcile ourselves to the mysterious truth that the spirit is the living body seen from within, and the body is the outer manifestation of the living spirit.” / For centuries many terrible cures attempted to cleanse the collective psyche or the ancient goddess worship that honored the female body as the matrix in which there were no divisions. There are many books that celebrate the return of the Goddess, to cherish the power of the feminine and to accept all the disowned parts of the psyche that lead us to illness and become pathological enough that we are forced to notice. When disowned aspects of ourselves are repressed, fear is projected onto the body in such forms as siren, enchantress, witch, hag and devouring mother. When we face our greatest fears, we also see the glimmering hope of of a new creative life. / When we accept that as we age our bodies are mortal, we can embrace our terrors and our failures and the hope for the celebrations to come, when what we have incubated emerges from the underworld. Legend and myth tell us again and again that transformation is possible. The maiden becomes the queen. The dragon becomes prince or princess. The fool becomes wise. The naive attitudes of youth change and develop. Slowly we become ourselves, free to be the keepers of memory and wisdom. We learn when to be silent and when to speak, what can be shared and what is secret. We learn to honor our bodies even as they begin to fail. We come to a visceral understanding of the cycles of change and our part in them. Ulrich Schaffer writes in his book of poems, Surprised By Light; “Again and again the miracle takes place / in the amazing transformation / in which the air turns into leaves / and the earth becomes roots, / in which the sun fills the seed to bursting / then lets it break open and sprouts, / New life breaks through / in the transformation of death. We are sustained by the surprise of the miracle, / by the change of the seasons, / and I am a link in this miraculous chain, / In me the unchangeable also changes, / and I know that I would break / the rhythm of creation / if I did not change / I would be dead to life / even as I continued to live. I am not yearning for great miracles, / but for the daily change, / the almost imperceptivle rebirth, / the insignificant miracle of growth, / which is greater than all others. “ It is a sad fact that as we approach old age, the deterioration or our bodies / seem loathsome. In fright, we run off into frantic activity, becoming too busy to think or feel as we sink deeper and deeper into a paralyzing depression. / Only rarely do we have the wisdom to honor our changes and allow their development. Most of us, unguided and untaught, flee in fear from the life that precedes our old age and death. Today in the Western world the human life span is increasing, and as it does, the need grows for a deeper wisdom that can help older persons honor rather than deny the physical and psychological relinquishing that precedes a late blooming. We are explorers of a stage of life that is different than it was for previous generations. The years of coming to age are now a new challenge and like most challenges bring the stresses of relinquishing familiar ways. Going through the changes of this time can be as exciting and as difficult as any outer journey. Those of us now coming to age are pathfinders, hopefully marking a way for others to follow.
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This tree root is on the northern periphery of our property. We’ve lived here for over 35 years, and it’s been here all that time, in exactly the same state you see it here. I marvel at its perfect heart shape and think it’s a little note from God to remind me of his undying love. I borrowed the title from the refrain of a hymn written by Father John Foley, S.J. / Here are the lyrics of that hymn: Dwelling Place / by John Foley, SJ I fall on my knees to the Father of Jesus / The Lord who has shown us, the glory of God. May He in His love give us strength for our living / The strength of His Spirit, the glory of God. May Christ find a dwelling place of faith in our hearts / May our lives be rooted in love, rooted in love. May grace and peace be yours in God our Father / And in His son. May Christ find a dwelling place of faith in our hearts / May our lives be rooted in love, rooted in love.
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100% Unedited. Taken with my FujiFilm FinePix S5100. ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * / In Memory of my sister, Kyelcie Dawn Yates , 100% of all proceeds from the sale of this piece, and all of my art on RedBubble, will be donated to my charity of choice – The Dream Factory. / * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ Special thanks to my friend, Clinton, who donated his face to the art of photography one early Sunday morning. I’ve been attempting to take a photograph like this for some time now and FINALLY got it! Everything about this photograph was planned out and placed accordingly, even the glass – to show that the streaking was a real capture and not some product of any photo editing. I thought that it would take several attempts to accomplish this effect, but the subject followed my instructions very well and I got it on the first try! ONE OF THE TOP TEN IMAGES in the / Facial Expressions of Halloween challenge ONE OF THE TOP TEN IMAGES in the / Movement challenge ONE OF THE TOP TEN IMAGES in the / Major Motion Blur challenge / If you like this image, you might also enjoy… Sad Foot Blue Smoke Trail Lunar Lights —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-— / Please visit my GALLERY PAGE Thanks for looking! / —-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—
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views:920 / favs: 14 My origami calendar I used to love collecting these plastic eggs (they can be handy as back massagers!) I folded this bird while RB was “enjoying a brief hiatus” today (July 3, 2008), from a 15×15mm piece of paper that I colored with a gold pen; didn’t want to get too small otherwise I would need a smaller egg. I stuck the tail to the inside of the egg shell with double sided tape. Here’s to a moment of excitement when opening a little present! For a better understandind of scale: / Taken with an Olympus FE-220 This work has been featured in: / Stillness Speaks / Weekly Theme Challenges / Young Enthusiasts / Also available at Zazzle / / / / Works by Category / / Origami / Drawings,Paintings and Graphics / Abstract Photography / Guessing Games Flowers, Trees and Plants / Water and Waterscapes / Scenery/Skyscapes / Light, Shadow, and Reflections / Still Life Living Creatures / Human Portrait Japanfluence / Canada / Europe / / / / More sample origami: Fly / / / Born from the Hand / Born from Fingers / / / Born from the Pinky / / / / 3cm Family Swim / / / 3cm Family Swim / / / Arctic Playground / / / / Sailing Along The Lifeline / / / Life is a Journey / / / / Born from the Cell / / / Origami Surgery / / / / Love Birds / / / Hummingbird / / / / ‘Serenity’, the Firefly spacecraft (My own design) / / / The Search for Water / / / Nessie’s Lair / / / / Origummy / / / Red String of Fate / / / / Bloomed from Fingers / / / The Blooming, the Withering, and the Everlasting / / / Spring Beginnings / / / Little White Peacock in a Field of Color / / / Thumbelina’s Flower / / / Lily / / / / Remembrance / / / Every Little Peace / / / Penguin in a Snowstorm / / / Monkey Mischief / / / / Monkey Bars / / / Bigfoot meets BIG foot / / / Money Pond / / / / A Little Spell / / / A Little Thanksgiving / / / / Heartbeat / / / Tough Shell, Delicate Soul / / /
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Model – Bianca Older work, early 2007 I thiiiiink… eh. / Nikon F2A + Portra 160vc veeery expired, took a lot of work to bring it back to life! Copyright 2008 Harmony Nicholas
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A young boy, at a fishing village in Koh Samui, reacts with a wonderful smile to the camera pointing at him.
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This little grey squirrel was photographed in my garden in Buckinghamshire, England, a frequent visitor to raid the bird tables.
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As the climate continues to warm, the glaciers are melting, uncovering things that have been buried beneath the ice for eons…
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Image for Calendar …made a few changes to it so i could use it in the calendar
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Acrylic and digital mixed media. /
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2009. B/W film, as is. A man, who had been searching garbage bins along a street in a commercial center, approached another man who was trying to find something of value in a bin. The first man took a clean bran-new cigarette from his pocket and gave it to the other man. The neat white cigarette almost shone in the darkness. The second man, looking at it, “Where did you find it?” He asked with surprise. “Someone gave it to me.” The man said. He left quickly, probably heading to another bin. The proceeds from this item will be donated to Farestart.
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Featured in Rural Around The Globe April 11, 2009. Best Viewed Full Size! Happy Easter Everyone!!!!! Image taken at the Brighton Azalea Gardens in Montgomery County, Maryland, on May 3, 2008 with the Nikon D40x and the 18-135mm Nikon lens. Hand held. Processed with a single jpeg image in Photomatix with an eval of 2, then put into Photoshop for a light Orton. The bunny was added from a shot I took in my front yard in June of ‘08.
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surprise surprise!
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My cat Boo not believing my stories… ;)
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Featured in The Sisterhood – August 2009 / Featured in A Beautiful Blur – August 2009 / Featured in High Key – August 2009 / Featured in Canon vs Nikon – September 2009 / Featured in Photoshop & Topaz Filters – October 2009 / – thanks so much to those groups and their hosts!! My daughter Mila (2) and I were messing around with my camera while she took her bath. Actually, I was kind of experimenting with ISO 1600 and Topaz, seeing as they claim that if you buy their Topaz DeNoise filter you can save yourself thousands because you won’t need a better camera or lens, you can just take noisy pictures and run them throught the DeNoise filter. I’ve been longing for a Canon 5D MkII, but have settled for the DeNoise filter in the meantime… definitely not the same, but also definitely much cheaper!! ( : Anyway, I quite like the effect, although I’m not sure that you can really claim that cheap camera + topaz = expensive camera… Camera Model Canon EOS 400D DIGITAL / Tv( Shutter Speed ) 1/80 / Av( Aperture Value ) 2.8 / Metering Mode Evaluative Metering / ISO Speed 1600 / Lens EF100mm f/2.8 Macro USM / Focal Length 100.0 mm / Photoshop CS2, Topaz DeNoise
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that’s what too much coffee does to you…
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everyone has to try out a high-key self portrait sometime… / jordan busson. 25 october 2009. add elucidate on: /
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We both were. Captured in RMNP. One of the only deer I came across without tags in its ears. Image shot with a Canon 50D at 320mm focal len (100-400mm L), f/5.6 ec-33, 1/25, ISO 100. Featured ‘American Southwest’ – Dec. 09 / Featured ‘Eye Contact’ – Dec. 09
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