Trauma
44 creative works found
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Teddy in hospital
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3×5 foot acrylic on canvas. Both figurative and abstract, this painting illustrates a personal journey. While it represents a personal journey, it might represent that of another person as well. The “end of dreams” commemorates a specific phase of life following a serious trauma, when “associations” (music, visual, taste) became inaccessible for a length of time. My colour sense is derived from my time living in North Africa. Symbols are international, or universal and refer to dreams, or thoughts, or feelings. The “root” like symbol is meant to represent consciousness. The figurative aspect is open to many interpretations, some of which I am unable to process. I have my suspicions, maybe the viewer has their own.
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Conception
by loloweI wonder how many of us ever really remember our birth? / How many of us actually remember the feeling / Of our world becoming smaller, ...
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Have you ever experienced, whenever you pick something up of your child and you put it in the washingmachine? Or you make the bed, or something that you do for your child that reminds you when you were a child and your mother did exactly the same for you? / In most cases no doubt it brings back very fond memories of your own relationship that you’ve had with your own mother or even father if you like? / In my own personal case, it hurts everytime I do things for my little girl and knowing what a deep love I have for her and she for me, that it wasn’t in my own mother to feel this way about me or her own children. / That is why I’ve created the little negative feel wich is not in any way a reflection to Sophia’s own life, but the memory of my own childhood and the things I see through my own relationship with this precious little girl and how much I want to protect her from ever growing up with the memories that I have been left with as an inheritance from my own childhood? / Hence, the gift of love!
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polaroid
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Train Ride to Naples (Edited)
by kseriphynHeat and a high shrill pained her ears. “Ugh!” She tried to scream and felt her voice taken away from her.
I thought I lost this story when my pc crashed. Thank god I had it stored on my wordpress site. It killed me for so long thinking it was gone. A short story inspired by Rikkipaul’s image The Sleeping Man No12. / It was a long afternoon and Amelia had a feeling it was going to drag on longer. She slouched in her chair and pressed her bored face to the window. Trees and houses blurred across her vision; the view became the same picture.
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This child is around 8. She had just been rescued from being a sex slave to one of the militias in D.R. Congo. She was clearly traumitised and I had to photograph her in near darkness. I have hesitated all this time putting the shot up as I believe it so accurately captures her pain, I feel uncomfortable. But the story needs to be told. The pain needs to be seen, sadly. Please pray for the Rwandas, Somalias, Congos and sadly now Kenyas of this world. As long as the barbarity is repeated so will the images be. It’s not for sale. But you can still give to HEAL Africa. healafrica.org There are tickets available for a lunch where Lyn Lusi the head of HEAL Afrcia will be talking. So far no takers.
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Black ice.
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My first Paper
by linajiI am not going to bore you with all my papers this semester but it is interesting how yesterdays connections with my fellow female bubble…
I am not going to bore you with all my papers this semester but it is interesting how yesterdays connections with my fellow female bubblelites encouraged me to pick this passage from the book ‘Into The Wild’ where I was to comment on a paragraph and write one in response… Here it is and thanks for your inspiration every day.!! xoxoxox Into The Wild Page 70 It is true that many creative people fail to make mature personal relationships, and some are extremely isolated. It is also true that, in some instances, trauma, in the shape of early separation or bereavement, has steered the potentially creative person toward developing aspects of his personality, which can find fulfillment in comparative isolation. But this does not mean that solitary, creative pursuits are themselves pathological…. / Avoidance behavior is a response designed to protect the infant from behavioral disorganization. If we transfer this concept to adult life, we can see that an avoidant infant might very well develop into a person whose principal need was to find some kind of meaning and order in life which was not entirely, or even chiefly, dependent upon interpersonal relationships. / Anthony Storr, / Solitude: A Return To Self Response: / I have become active as an individual, creatively, in the latter part of my life. Meaning I am choosing activities and projects that envelope the whole of me; the intellectual as well as the spiritual self. Before pursuing these creative outlets, I can see where my tendencies toward isolation and the inability to make ‘mature personal relationships’ were puzzling for me as well as others. Now, looking back on my life, I can see what Anthony Storr refers to as ‘trauma in the shape of early separation or bereavement’ causing ‘Avoidance behavior’. However the good news is this kind of contrast that life introduced me to early on has indeed allowed me to want to find as he says ‘meaning and order in life which was not entirely, or even chiefly, dependent upon interpersonal relationships.’ I feel the creative self has perhaps an uncomfortable ingredient that does not allow for complacency early on, this ‘ingredient’ is so subtle in the making we sometimes do not come around to it ‘s full intention in this life. Sometimes we ignore our longings toward our higher sense of being and miss the boat altogether. For me, I am here at the last minuet of acceptance in school because I could no longer avoid its call to me. And frankly, I believe this is what keeps me inspired, passionate and young!
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homelessnss despair trauma lonely retreat shelter guidance guardians
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Inspired by the childhood predator of one of my dearest friends… May those that harm children forever burn in hell’s hottest flames… Only we can make the lives of children safe… by protecting them them from those that prey on the young… When a child is sexually abused… it destroys your very soul… Trust me… I know. May God damn each and every person that steals the innocence from our most precious gifts… our children… May they pay the heaviest penalty of all… Condemnation to hell.
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Have You Ever
by CrowmanicHave you ever been in life, in such a place where being bottled … / attacked and throttled was just a part of everyday struggle … a wa…
Dramatic existence and crippling violence is endemic amongst far too many communities within Aboriginal society. Usually kept out of sight and off the radar of awareness of the ‘mainstream’. In my view, and to some extent, it is the manifestation of a disease of the soul., and often comes under the terms ‘domestic’ or family violence. The ‘spirit’ behind this epidemic is known by many names; cruelty, revenge, misguided pay-back, alcohol abuse, rejection, pain, rape, frustration, anger, racism, drugs, insecurity, poverty and fear, just to name a few. It is the expression of a dis-eased spirit (the “Mamu” or “evil” (bad-fella) that operates in the vacuum that has been created by dispossession, disillusionment and trauma, coupled with the erosion of a secure and sound identity. It spreads in times of intense distress, trauma, and uncertainty. Wanton violence is systemic disease that spreads like a cancerous and corrosive virus, and appears to thrive where there is little love for one’s ‘self’ and hence little to no regard nor respect for others. / This epidemic is not unique to Aboriginals in Australia. It is just more amplified, more readily identified, because of the disproportionate high numbers of victims from within a small percentage of the Australian population.
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A young soul at the cross roads of youth and adulthood.
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polaroid
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TALKING TO MYSELF IN THE DARK
by JaneAParis...on my gravestone, don’t write rest in peace
Feeling like you are nothing and your life is out of control…
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WAITING
by JaneAParisShe cried inside and out. She tried to reach him, but she was restrained…
This is about loss and another chance…
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SURREAL REALITY DESK
by JaneAParisBut no one really cares, to them she is always naked, clothed or not clothed…
Just another day at work…in political hell.
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The scenes we left behind remain
by anaisnaisEmbedded in tormented mind , / blood clogged fields, / dangling limbs – contorted. / Whistling ammunition, / gun fire resounds.
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Forever My Heart
by stephfineI don’t have to defend anyone, I know who I am. / I know what I do for your life and for mine.
Dedicated to my heart… it has endured / a lot of pain, a lot of trauma but it / continues too beat for me even though / at times I feel like its broken and wanting / to give up… together we pull through knowing / we will be stronger in the end.
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How wrong she was
by ArlettaHow wrong she was, not to fall apart, not to fade away, not to die wretchedly / On she went, unmindful of chattering twits or twittering …
Actually, I started writing this out of annoyance in regards going to court and being accused of being the predominant cause of lack of communication between me and my Ex – as if .. well, I can’t tell you what might have really been the cause of it, because that would be being less than nice and get me in trouble. All I can do is to change the subject and tell you to watch American Psycho, Sleeping with the Enemy, and .. .err. .whatever that Jennifer Lopez movie is. Then jam them all together in your mind and ask yourself : Would I have trouble communicating with that conglomerate man? However, this is not about court, my Ex, or those movies. This is about before that, grade school nastiness that, for some of us, never stops.
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