Wraith
2 members found
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Dean Wraith
South Africa
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Wraith
Australia
51 creative works found
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Inspired by a visit to a deserted Irish famine village. Here for tee /
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One of the joys of having a model for a partner was that she was so responsive to work like this. A little digital tweaking, but mainly just good lighting and a flurry of voiles. Fuji film, as usual. THE BOTTOM OF THE ATLANTIC Life is so quiet, you see, on the abyssal plain. / There, in a drench of dark and suffocating cold, / With feelers like feeble spines – or wooded dendrites, like the / Spires of rotted ships, / A population of sea cucumbers (more numerous, it is said, than / People on the earth above) digests, dredges, gropes the vegetable / Matter of the deep. Perhaps they fornicate, furtive on a lightless stage. / I think they must - / Feeling stealthily towards each other, snatching each chemical embrace / A few degrees above impenetrable and appalling chill. / Self-effacingly, grittily, voicelessly, their uncoloured suckling mouths reach, as if to clasp on crusted paps. Nearby, infatuated by a source of nourishment, toothless black hagfish squirm and rasp upon the fallen cadaver of a leviathan. Here and there, silent upon silted earth, a fish (asphyxiated on an unexpected lake of brine) turns turtle and succumbs, retching, without protest. Above these graves scud living forms that manufacture light – if only in minute proportion – so as to camouflage themselves from the rest, who might observe them from below. They are, I don’t doubt, as demure as archivists. How well I know you, creatures of the deep. You’re the ghosts of human hope, the chimeras of those who tried and failed. You are the shed skins of talent, whose preordination it must be to plumb a depth whose brink I dare scarcely glimpse. Let me count your names. You wait where all us of must fall: you, necessary scavengers of yearning: you, reverent degenerates: you, specimen-bottle luminaries, worshipful in venerable routine, siphoning ancient dirt because, as well you know, life depends on it. I want to pity you. I am afraid to. I’ll curse you to outlast me, knowing that you will. And in perdition, blameless, dwell. Stephen Jackson (August 2003)
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Digital abstract. / / / DATE OF CREATION : 2007.10.7th / / / © 2007 Nodakami
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My interest in dreams and things of the night produced many dark images… this apparition is drawn with paint and ink on paper… the hastily rendered texture adds to the ghostliness of the face. This painting looks extremely creepy in a dimly lit room.
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When someone mentions a ghost, most of us think of cemeteries, haunted houses, and human-sized transparent figures draped in sheets. / Likewise, the word “faerie” is usually linked with cute little figures with wings, magick, bright colours and merry mischief. However, mention a Banshee, and people squirm. / The Banshee, like a ghost, can represent death to many people, but that is not her actual role in folklore, or in our lives. The Banshee from the Irish bean sí, or bean sidhe (“woman of the síde” or “woman of the fairy mounds”) is a female spirit in Irish mythology, usually seen as an omen of death and a messenger from the Otherworld. / According to legend, one Banshee guards each Milesian Irish family; these are the families whose names start with O’ or Mac, though those prefixes have often been dropped, particularly by American families. / Nonetheless, there is a Banshee for each branch of these families, and the family Banshee can follow the descendants to America, Australia, or wherever the Irish family travels or emigrates. / Her moarnful cry can be heard anywhere. / The Banshee protects the family as best she can, perhaps as a forerunner of the “Guardian Angel” in Christian traditions. However, the time we are most aware of her is before a tragedy that she cannot prevent. Meaning, that traditionally, the Banshee appears shortly before a death in “her” family. Despite her grim reputation, seeing or hearing a Banshee is not what actually causes the death. / The Banshee herself is traditionally a very kind woman, as poet and historian W. B. Yeats commented, “You will with the banshee chat, and will find her good at heart.” / Perhaps her appearance and wailing before a death are efforts to protect her family from a death or other tragedy that she foresees. Here I have depicted her in her guise as the young woman she once was, tho her eyes are red from centuries of weeping and she still cries black tears. / Behind her perched majestically on the clifftop, the ruined medieval Castle of Dunluce sits still, once home to the great irish families. / Forever loyal she guards the ruins, weeping at the loss of the great families. / / “There were originally five towers; there are now only two remaining: “Macuilin’s Tower” on the east side, which contains the remains of a staircase, and a smaller tower seawards called Mave Roe’s Tower; so called after Mave Roe, supposed by some to have been a relative of the MacQuillins, and by others, their banshee, or fairy spirit, whose wail, they say, is still heard above the winter’s storm, and who keeps the apartment scrupulously clean, expecting the return of the former owners.” – From Sketches of Olden Days in Northern Ireland by Rev. Hugh Forde some interesting reading- / Banshees / Irish faeries / celtic magick / wikipedia – banshee / Legend of the Banshee / Dunluce Castle / thankyou for taking the time to view my art and (hopefully) comment… / please have a look at my other artwork… / hope you enjoy! :) /
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Conte Crayon Drawing colored and digitally enhanced with Illustrator and Corel Painter. /
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Done in watercolor edited in photoshop 1 In the series
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Thanks to Marcus Ranum for his wonderful model.
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Poor girl! What exactly had she lost? Whatever it was had obsessed her to the extent that in the end she was reduced to almost wraith like appearance and was weak and crawling, naked, by the time it was finally found. By purposely placing her back at the extreme edge of the board I leave an area where healing forces can flow into her; thus replenishing her strength and vigour. ( I use this technique a lot, as my figures are living to me, and I want them to survive: It annoys the hell out of picture framers ). I painted the underpainting very wet, and then added the finished drawing of the figure using an almost dry brush, giving a charcoal-like effect. The painting is one of my favourites, and I was quite sorry to see it go. Thanks for looking and attempting to understand.
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Model is the amazing El Wraith. Part of an experiment in contrasting latex fetish wear with urban environments.
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When all is lost / People / Infrared / Seascapes / New Zealand / Frogs / Lensbaby / Industrial / Spam / Panorama / Landscapes
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Created Using Bryce 6.1 / Rendered @ 7500×5625 300 dpi
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As a rule, I’m much better with titles, but I’m afraid this is the best I could do. / Apophysis.
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Copyright of Poisonlolly media is paper. And I only use pen for the whole creation. Except for the eyes, I use colored pencil to do her make up :)) This illustration was made in 2008. It was inspired by vampires and wraith. Featured in THE TORCH Sept 12, 2009
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Shot at my favorite set of rocks on the beach in the North bay at Kaikoura, New Zealand, you are gonna see a lot more of this area, just brilliant to work here. This is one of 4 images taken here, the others have fuller wave patterns and fit very much with the style of my other work, but this is the one I like, i like the wispy shallow wave, slightly ghostly, almost dancing with the rocks. Shot on a Nikon D700 with 17-35mm Nikkor Lens, ND 8 soft Grad, tripod with weighted bags.
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FROM LONG AGO~DAYS GONE PAST / SHE MOVES SO VERY STEATH AND FAST YOU BARELY CATCH HER WHISPY PASS / AS HER LOVER SHE LONGS TO CATCH PHOTOSHOP CS3 / SPECIAL THANX TO DEVIANTART.COM STOCK: / PQ_White_Gown_1_by_PirateQueen_Stock / stock_by_dutchystock
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Charcoal pencils on paper
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