Redbubble Artist – Cerphotography

Hopefully everybody has read what the Touched By Fire group is all about on redbubble by now.  PJ wrote an awesome description of the group and what its purpose is in the first paragraph in the description that I need to share with you:

“This group is open to all genres with a focus on art that very distinctly touches peoples soul and shows a creative and unique voice that inspires and urges us to look at our world in new and exciting ways.”

My favorite part of that is, “very distinctly touches people’s soul.”  When I go through the moderation of the group I try to keep that in mind.  Not that I wouldn’t accept anything if it actually didn’t reach my soul, but I like to think of how it might touch the artists soul.  And what affect that might have on people.

Just a few days ago I came across a certain picture in my activity feed.  If any of you happen to dig through my favorites or see my work, you’ll notice I have a passion for whimsical women, crazy pictures, and romantic mumbo jumbo.  Occasionally though something really stands out and actually does take hold and grab my soul and that I fall in love with.  And that’s this:

I instantly favorited it.  And then I dug through the rest of the artists work.  And of course I was shocked by the complexity, emotion, thought, and mood of all the images.  Technically, I’m no genius with picture quality, tones, and blah blah blah.  I don’t care.  I don’t judge peoples pictures at all.  And I’m certainly not a critic.  I know what I love.

Once I made it through Cara’s (cerphotography) work, I jumped back to her profile page and was stunned to learn that she was only 18 and still in high school.  I’ve stumbled across a few young artists here that are so filled with talent that it makes me sick, in a good way of course.  And every one I’ve told the same thing.  Cara – I wish I had a quarter of the talent you have at that age.  Ok, well now, I’ve told all of them.

Please, be sure to check out Cara’s work.  She has two pictures featured this week:

She also has a handful of written works that you all may enjoy as well.  My personal favorite of her written work:

A Voice For The Innocent

I am a memory untold and me living is too bold
They say a mother naturally loves
But here the doctor puts on his gloves
It was for her own good, I am told

Perhaps if she saw me smiling at her
Perhaps she would changer her mind
Perhaps if she knew how much I would love her
Perhaps she would change her mind

But my voice is confined, not even defined
My love is declined by all of mankind
This my death wish she will not unbind

With me her life will be made uncomfortable
She never even thought of buying a cradle
She never considered that when I smile I might have her dimples

The doctor says I will not feel.
He tells this to my mother in hopes that her tears he may conceal.
But I feel.

I am scared, no mother to hold me.
I am sad, no mother to love me.
When all becomes dreary
And she feels so guilty
I ask for her love but she keeps me lonely.

My heart undeveloped breaks before it is made whole
I will never be able to look upon the face of my mother

Without a memory to keep me
Nobody fights for my justice
This indifference seems cureless

Because though I existed within the depth of my mother
Who was my fortress overtaken in battle.
She thinks she’s done nothing wrong

She opens the doors of the fortress
For death to seep through
And she thinks she is blameless
As I’m being killed
She allows this
Not loving me enough to keep me safe.
She is told this murder is harmless

She tells them to murder me so never will she have to behold me
To her I mean nothing, I’m just the nuisance in her belly
She beholds as if a leach who in this world deserves no entry.

And perhaps she is right
Perhaps it is my life that doesn’t matter
And though I never looked upon her I already love her
And though she has done this I forgive her

But should I forgive her?
And is this right?

To kill me which is innocence
To keep her life

The doctor sticks the tube into the cervix
and sucks away my life.
I’m the victim that was not reckoned as ever being alive.


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