This time with feeling
Looking back on past posts it strikes me as quite paradoxical (if not simply hypocritical on my own part) to uphold such a strong distaste for the modern ‘emo’ fanatic whilst I sat her for god knows how long singing the same abominable tune. My god self loathing and pity are unbecoming to a human form, and leave little enough to be admired. To that end I wish to clean the slate and start anew, in hopes of posting and reflecting on more then just my own ‘dark and twisted soul ravished by want’.
And to those who still suffer from the delusion that your life isn’t worth living because mommy won’t drive you to Hot Topic to by that new set of black gloves that match your inner soul I would like to add simply this…Shut the hell up, no one cares, you haven’t given them a reason too.
To those who have yet to be terrorized into stupidity by my own incessant chatter, I would very much like to introduce myself. I am the Poet of Pictures, and with the terrifying prospect of reality looming so eminently on my horizon (i.e life, work, housing, medical bills, income, research, dishwashing and so forth) I decided to do a little pre spring cleaning on my livejournal and restore it as a proper artistic display case. After all art is, by its very definition a perpetual intellectual conversations stimulated manipulated by two or more individuals through the utilization of the five senses. Good art…well that requires a bit more time, an open mind, and a fairly good wine to explain property, but that remains a bit beside the point.
Getting back to the matter at hand, I wish to use this journal as a bit of a springboard for ideas. I’m looking for feedback, constructive or otherwise, on my works be it to or against your taste. My hope is to be able to post everything from the preliminary sketches to the final paintings in order to get outside feedback every step of the way. In addition I am ever in search of inspiration, be it from an artistic source or just an impulsive notion.
I am, above all, looking for real artists’, that is individuals of an artistic temperament. Mind you I do not excommunicate artists who can not hold a brush or a chisel, nor do I openly embrace those who can paint pretty little water color daisies with bunnies and fluffy hearts for a craft store. Art is born of both of intellect and instinct, technique is merely a tool for expression.
To new starts and new thoughts my friends,
The Poet of Pictures
And to those who still suffer from the delusion that your life isn’t worth living because mommy won’t drive you to Hot Topic to by that new set of black gloves that match your inner soul I would like to add simply this…Shut the hell up, no one cares, you haven’t given them a reason too.
To those who have yet to be terrorized into stupidity by my own incessant chatter, I would very much like to introduce myself. I am the Poet of Pictures, and with the terrifying prospect of reality looming so eminently on my horizon (i.e life, work, housing, medical bills, income, research, dishwashing and so forth) I decided to do a little pre spring cleaning on my livejournal and restore it as a proper artistic display case. After all art is, by its very definition a perpetual intellectual conversations stimulated manipulated by two or more individuals through the utilization of the five senses. Good art…well that requires a bit more time, an open mind, and a fairly good wine to explain property, but that remains a bit beside the point.
Getting back to the matter at hand, I wish to use this journal as a bit of a springboard for ideas. I’m looking for feedback, constructive or otherwise, on my works be it to or against your taste. My hope is to be able to post everything from the preliminary sketches to the final paintings in order to get outside feedback every step of the way. In addition I am ever in search of inspiration, be it from an artistic source or just an impulsive notion.
I am, above all, looking for real artists’, that is individuals of an artistic temperament. Mind you I do not excommunicate artists who can not hold a brush or a chisel, nor do I openly embrace those who can paint pretty little water color daisies with bunnies and fluffy hearts for a craft store. Art is born of both of intellect and instinct, technique is merely a tool for expression.
To new starts and new thoughts my friends,
The Poet of Pictures