Challenge winners – “Monochrome, but not B&W”, December 10th 2010

“This challenge is for artwork and photographs which pretty much only involve one colour, but we are not looking for black & white or grayscale photos or drawings here.
For example…
It might be a monochrome photograph in the sense of being e.g. sepia, ambrotype, cyanotype, either originally or through a post-processing filter.
Or it could be any sort of digital image which has been given a hue, colour cast or some kind of filter so that all the colour in the images consists of different shades of one colour.
Or it might simply be that the subject matter of the photo, painting or drawing involves almost or completely one colour.
Or it colour be any digital image which has been so reduced in saturation, brilliance or contrast that each shade barely differs from grey.
I am taking the word ‘colour’ to mean not black or white. Black and white can be thought of as the darkest and lightest shade of any given colour.
Monochrome means almost the same thing as duotone!”

We have two winners for the “Monochrome, but not B&W” challenge: Berns, with A Blue Day, and Ivy Izzard, with The Web.

A Blue Day by Berns
A Blue Day

This beautiful image of Oliva Beach, Valencia, Spain is a great example of how the use of one colour can give a calm and dreamlike overall quality to an image. The subtle variation in the blues of the distant mountains receding into the mist is perfectly complemented by the sharper light and dark contrast which captures the crispness of the waves so effectively. And the simple, silhouetted figure in the middle distance gives the image a story.

The Web by Ivy Izzard
The Web

This is a lovely example of how choosing one narrow part of the colour spectrum and working with that can produce a stylish and evocative image. The masterful use of bluish greys for the soft but fine shading in this picture is part of what gives the image its mysterious feel, as the figure seems to be literally emerging from the foliage. I think this is a beautifully romantic and charming picture.

Congratulations to both our winners, who are now featured members for a while!

Advertisements

Features 8-30-10

This week I am going with a theme of the dreamworld and the subconscious mind. We often dream to vent out our fears and stresses from our waking lives. I was looking for images that were dreamy, spiritual, and surreal; and also ones dealing with our deepest fears. Writing, especially poetry, is often dreamy and full of subconscious imagery. I tried to pick writing that dealt with two of our biggest themes in dreams, death and love. Some of the writing just sounded like a dream feels.
I will start with the image that inspired the theme:
Power of dream
Power of a Dream by LisaMM

I Give You My Flower by Linaji

I am giving you my flower,
Because I feel your seed explode
The cosmos gets lonely on Saturday.

My flower has a shameless smell that may
conjure you a dream
This dream will give you strength

Where you are I have been
The soil was rich with nitrates and oxides
But come certain times of the year
That soil turns to dust

You are left to fend for yourself
And the barren garden burns your
Eyes and nose

So come over here and let me hold your
Hand, let me just understand
And give you my flower.

Linaji 2010

Dolphin
Dolphin Dreaming by Angel Gold

The Crescent Moon by JetMannHenry
Tonight

You will lay;
Alone
on the crescent moon.

Leave yourself behind.

Tonight

I will play
vigorously
in the memory of..

Love

in the memory of…

Us

in the memory of….

You

Tonight

We will stay,
masked in the shadows
dancing on mood dust
running on crevises
sleeping alone
on the surface of..
the crescent moon. ©

Seum
Seum by vampvamp

Unfolded Down-Under by Lenny Carpet Cleaner

spring is the rising of the leaves
the thinning out of Steves

jack and jill lying on a roll
fit for the uranium pit

licking up the frost off the clit of now
the hills are alive with the likes of you

beyond the outsiders, momentary gods
trip the liff of thought, vanity’s fete

of course you can stay
august is really the month of may

holy spirit! blasphemed the puritan
tan 61 degrees is just a PhD

oh, it’s a long way to the prawn shop
if you beget to sell Johann’s Seoul

dude looks like a lady
but(t) the lady is a tramp
tom thumb waits, I just can’t

a tragicomedy reversed
the cacophony of
well meant rehearsals, a-ha!

“time for elevenses?”
the buck stops here.

steel breast
Steel Breast Light Arms by Rosa Cobos

When Nothing Is A Good Thing by Sandy Sutton

They tell me that
having nothing is
good for the soul
being nothing is different
the art of having nothing is
refreshing
replenishing
it makes you realise
who you are
when you may
count yourself
as possessions
and a figure on paper
that is an accrued
total of your fiscal wealth
the art of having nothing is
an accrued total
of you
of your
accomplishments
of your good deeds
and your bad
it is the thing
you will carry
with you when
the end is near
when in your fear
you realise
that it’s your
vision of yourself
that matters
in the end
not your possessions
not your money
not even the love you see
in the eyes of your children
or even their children
for that matter

it is the art of you
the art of life
the paintings you create
within yourself
the sculpture
you have created
out of you
for you and only
you
the image
you have of
you
is the only you
that matters

It Is You

Judgement
Judgement by Martin Muir

Stalks
It Stalks All of Us by Berns

But to die in the joy of knowing that I pursued my dream to the end or just the beautiful beginning by Blanchot

How poor a creature he must be who in his last moment cries out,
“But if only, I had followed my heart, eschewing the cold logic of my head and the creeping ice of the compartmental crypt so soon to be?”

I refuse that being.
I refuse his cowardice and the stale scent of the pillow at his side.

Rather, I celebrate my dream: realized!
I steadfastly refuse all issue of doubt:
“Do you have any idea what you are in for?”

Fools to have even asked: for my answer can only be a celebration of the equivocal. Nonetheless an unprecedented celebration it damn will be.
“Yes, I am ‘in for’ a love sublime: a love, which most will approach only in the perfection of nature’s allowance of the summer peach’s nectar.”
“No, for I am also in for an adventure the likes of which would make a proud woman of Scheherazade herself.”

Will I make it through the thousand and one nights?
“Seek thy oracle not in this stone abode.”
Will I live every night I have to the fullest?
“You’re goddamn right!”

While the life of the mind may well appear—as it so often did to me—the apogee of human achievement; it is only through the chambers of the heart that transcendence sings its siren’s song.

Long live the heart!
Mysteries, joys, pains, and all; glorify the hymn of love and of lovers!

© 08/25/09

goddess
Goddess of Light by Scott Black

Features for August 1, 2010

“The freedom of authentic masculinity is an amazing thing to see. It produces a “divine elasticity” in men. Finally they can lead with firmness, then submit with humility. They can challenge with a cutting edge, then encourage with enthusiasm. They can fight aggressively for just causes, then moments later weep over suffering.” ~Bill Hybels~

This week I was really moved by art and writing depicting masculinity. There are so many dimensions to a man and I regret that often times those layers get overlooked. They are our fathers, brothers, lovers, and friends. I feel that many cultures promote a misunderstood version of what ‘being a man’ means. It should allow for tenderness as well as toughness, knowing when to follow as well as leading, listening as well as talking. It can’t be easy to balance the yin and yang of life like that. This week was dedicated to our wonderful male artists, models, writers, and the men in our lives.

Scorpions Nest by Elox

scorpions nest by elox

Going Away by micmac

going away by micmac

Come Together. Brown Sugar Story. by AndGoszcz

come together brown sugar story by andgoszcz

comfort kills by clancy214

comfort kills by clancy214

Pebble on the Beach by Rebecca Tun

pebble on the beach by rebecca tun

A Stroll Down Memory Lane by Berns

a stroll down memory lane by berns

The Incubus is Inside the Room by Hector Encinas

the incubus is inside the room by hector encinas
poem with the image:

Don’t open your eyes,
I have mine on my palms;
palms.
Nails that bare deep, and wide.
You fall into my words,
You fall into my mouth.
You find my refuge,
The ceiling of your mouth.
The bed that is your tongue.
The landscape of your body.
That I dominate with mine.
You find your empty soul.
In mine.
The monster ate men’s children.
I do not.
I eat your core.
The rose,
The bloom,
The stone in the lake,
The diamond in the desert;
And ALL.
In whole.
Silver nitride;
My love.
She weeps.
And she gasps.
Hands clenched tight to the sheets.
Hands clenched tight to the sheets.
I find you here now,
Only; Now,
I hope you find me,
As well as “I” can……….
Drown in my ocean.
In my water.
That I drain forever;
for you.
Ill eat you up..
Ill eat you…up
Ill eat…..you….up…………
Ill…………………………………….
Eat……………you……………………………………………
………………………………………………………………………
Up.

L.C.D. by raymondoantonio

The pursuit of excellence
Has been replaced by the
Promotion and acceptance of mediocrity.
Now we have a world of:

Junk food, junk bonds, crap culture.
Media empires creating mediocre,
Mass produced crap masquerading as art!
Product designed to appeal to the
Lowest common denominator.
Penetration of demographics
To maximise profits.

No heart, no soul, no passion.
Throw away life-styles, gimmicks, hype
And bullshit fashion!
Smacked out, fucked up attitudes.
Psuedo-neo, post modern, new age platitudes!
Tabloid journo porno,
Masturbation T.V.
A world of arse-licking mediocrity!!

Mr. Sylvester by Trenchtownrock

Fire breathing dragon in his eyes
myths revealed with each sip of
white rum swimming with milk
burning stories told from his lips
ancient stories
from the Jamaican mountains
his secrets given life
walking into daylight
without insecurities
they will hide when he is sober
he was the drunk of the avenue
liver playing death’s tune
begging to be rescued
but they slit open his wrist
and poured his lover down in him
watching her undress his heart
letting him smell her good parts
the parts that made him walk away
from his cross
she had convenient sex
whenever he needed it
they sold their integrity
they laughed
their avenue clown
no crimes committed
overproof emptied
the sun rest
he stumbled with the moon’s sympathy
leading him home
I could hear the corner baptist church
preparing the halls for his arrival
the undertaker writing his plot.

Monsoon Daze by Hector Encinas

Rain falls;
A story; somewhere fades.
Blue moon shines,
On the desert’s, wet plains.

Monsoons have come to wash the dirt away;

You lay by the wooden veranda;
I smoke my cigarette; you drink your tea.

The silence is a barren landscape in the mind.

Confined;
To these untailored hours,
Its broken time where we remained;
It set our teeth to chatter.

Lightning strikes the distance, at the feet of a dark blue horizon.
The first light we’ve seen in the mounting stretch of storm.
Thunder roars; the deserts cry has spoken its word.

Monsoons have come;
To wash the dirt away.

me, myself, and i by mohawk man

7-23-10 @noon-ish

the inner turmoil, the constant fights
sometimes “myself” and “i”
won’t let “me” sleep at night
for decades it seems i’ve tried to quell
the demons inside
that created the hell
that was my life ‘till not long ago
but slowly i’m winning
i think i can smell
the fear of a thousand ages lost
and i feel i can finally
bear the cost
of restitution to an almost lost soul
that wants it’s penance
before it opens the hole
where it keeps me locked with an evil grin
and kicks me and laughs
when i try to get in
to collect myself and maybe move on
to the life ahead
where those demons are gone

Even Kings: Suprise of My Life by Blanchot

Brain tumor, he said
Fucking crazy, I’m 20, king of my world
Senior year starts in two weeks, solemn promise self to graduate in four
Mistake, I insisted
Sorry, tumor: is there anyone I can call for you, he asked
Call my mother
I’ll be home later
I’m okay
Immediate operation they argued
Hell NO
Christmas Break: my body, my choice
Will be wrapped around carotid artery by then: death would be upon you
Goddamn all of you and the Dog who made these rebellious cells
Also, premature breakdown of body, especially joints
500 times more HGH in your system: bad!
Probably ought to mention shortened lifespan
(Didn’t tell me I’d want it shortened!)
Right! King of the world, proven indestructible
Nonetheless,
Surgery: Wednesday, August 13
First day of senior year in a week
I’ll be there damn it
Watch and see! (However stupidly redundant such a thing is to say.)
Ten days, and hell on earth later, back at school
Never would have believed it, said surgeon
Don’t doubt a king, said I
So it was, I began my senior year a week and a half late
No longer quite the king I thought myself to be
© 7/30/10

touched by fire – may 16, 2010 features

It’s that time of the month again… at least for me, a time to share this week’s features, handpicked by yours-truly (Duff). Enjoy,

I ran to the woods (t-shirt, hoodie & stickers) by vampvamp

I ran to the woods

Firemoon by BiographyofRed8

At night
The mice run away
With the tin-colour lights
And are we are back in our room
Twilight stars and comets
Scattered over the ceiling

Cuando la luna entra e ilumina el altillo (when the moon shines in and lights up the attic)

Y tu Gabriel (and you Gabriel)
Have walked the creaky floorboards
For we keep finding
Your pure white feathers
Dropped all over the floor
In cracks
And in the spaces between
The floorboards
Where we push our eyes
Through like characters
In a cartoon

I will bring down
A star kiss
For your eye-brows
For You have the most perfect geometry
Even if I am a thief
Of words
And feel the sting
Of the barb of a bumble-bee’s kill

You who is fire –within- fire burning
The orange-yellow-crisp-energy-beams
Falling in –streaks
in -patterns over my skin

As I write this
The noises of stupidity bark
Like a roosters call

And I am afraid
Of the moment
Where I let go of your hand
Like mothers fear
The first day of school.

Titiritera by dmcart

Incubus by Lisa Jewell

paralysed by a polished mantle trophy
a summoned demon crushes my joints
feeding off my amber marrow

his brimstone tipped tongue
laces scorching saliva swirls
onto my less than pure flesh

the will of Hedone
grants a silent screaming nocturnal spell
smothering my wretched loneliness

Hannah. by Willow Wyles

Mr. Testosterone by HollyGoLightly

What i thought was love,
was just a phase,
love isn’t something,
you can just erase,

though with you,
it went away quick,
finding the prestige,
behind a bad trick.

I felt like I’d fallen,
and hit the ground hard,
but now i feel I’m left,
completely unscarred.

When you were there,
i felt so very alone,
it isn’t my fault,
you’re Mr.Testosterone.

your macho side,
was always your worst,
so incredibly fake,
a terribly perverse.

You can’t show emotion,
something you’ll find you need,
so i wanted so badly,
to just see you bleed.

I know I let go,
so easily and hassle free,
but from the depths of my heart,
I’m so not sorry.

“…this heady quick world of kick-shot hearts” by Rebecca Tun

Heart Knowing by lianne

The heart has an eternal language of its own.
Though I must silence my mind to hear it,
it thinks better than my head and remembers too;
this perfect center of my self-knowing,
is an ever faithful guardian of my truth.
The heart listens, hears a voice in the silence,
attending its ear to a word no other hears.
Attending its sight to a vision no other sees,
at the farthest edge of my hermetic solitude,
the darkest shadows of the moonless nights,
my trusting heart is lighted from within
with the incandescent flame of love.
My heart knows what my logical mind
cannot begin to even contemplate,
recognizes the sublime where my eyes
see too often a world both stark and cold
or the desolate dry expanse of the desert.
Only the graceful heart can truly know
another shining soul with loving intimacy.
T’was my heart that knew you first,
a love my head could not have known,
and my heart that felt your inner beauty
pass through my very being like sunrise
through stained glass windows facing dawn.
My heart it was that named you Beloved,
Anam Cara, soul companion of my life,
my heart that takes its comfort, its very purpose
from the hopeful dreams of exquisite longing
for your heart, your body opening to mine.
This heart I offer you, my love, this mystical portal
through which we might together enter heaven’s gate;
is my simple gift of joyful, true “heart knowing”
after a graced and lifelong apprenticeship of love.

© Lianne Schneider May 2010

Roboxer by frederic levy-hadida

I cannot remove my tie by Cock a Doodle Doo

Wary of the Ides of March
Detached from my collar
Blue and starched
Fat cats stitch in time
Designer underwear
Mine is folded, clean.

Politicians, preachers changing hats
Checkered under watchful nose
Of open roads that must be closed.
Out of date yellow coats
Dusted then, handed over.
Followin’ suits can’t hide the fat
Guide dog tailors hang right back
Weeds climbing through the window still.

While I do pity any given refugee
With whom I lie
All my children swiftly black face me
Then turn away, busy dying

I cannot remove my tie.

Harbinger by Berns

blind spot by greeneyedlady

i wasn’t stupid
i wasn’t gullible
it wasn’t even my fault
she was just in my blind spot
that’s all
and i couldn’t see her coming
no shame in that
i wasn’t stupid
nor were you
you knew too well
how to manipulate me
and keep me in the dark
you blindsided me
so i wouldn’t see it coming
and you wouldn’t see me going
for love itself is blind
and so was i