Features July 31st 2011

My theme for this week is women and winged creatures (e.g. birds and butterflies). No particular reason except that after more than one image I liked contained these elements I decided to continue in the same vein. Enjoy!


Butterfly
by fotowagner


Hope
by Elvenspot


Those Watchful Eyes
by Matteo Pontonutti


Branwen
by MoonSpiral


The Owl Lady’s Midnight
by MaureenTillman


The Crow Knows
by MaureenTillman

 
Girl with Magpie
by Sybille Sterk


there was a girl ..
by Alenka Co


COLOUR IS THE BEST FRIEND OF BEAUTY
by GittiArt


Keep Dreaming
by AngiandSilas


So Close…
by Sandra Bauser Digital Art

From Rebecca Tun

Features for 27th March 2011 – Psychological Landscapes

I recently launched a challenge called ‘Psychological Landscapes’, so in continuation of that theme I’ve chosen 12 artworks which depict an imaginary scene and use symbolic elements of the scenery as metaphors for an internal state or and introspective narrative. (I’ve had two feature sessions in a row now where I’ve just featured images and no writing, so next time it’s my turn I’ll make a point of focusing on written pieces!)

Possibilities by Tara Lemana
I like the serene simplicity of this piece and its dreamlike quality, while it also gives a sense of loneliness and grandeur.
Possibilities by Tara Lemana

Cold Comfort by Graeme Hindmarsh
This surreal and minimalist piece explores “isolation and alienation in the modern world” (Graeme Hindmarsh). Despite its simplicity it contains many messages and it’s the sort of piece that you could look at for a while. Interesting and original work!
Cold Comfort by Graeme Hindmarsh

My way by Jacky
This image along with its title conveys such a dramatic sense of directionality, with its use of leading lines to the vanishing point on the horizon both in the skyscape and the landscape. It’s striking in its energy, boldness and richness.
My way by Jacky

No Name by Manolya F.
This piece conveys a powerful message and seems open to various interpretations. One commentator eloquently said “We either walk into despair or into hope. From the darkend sky there appears great light and energy that seems to recharge the water. Perhaps going into it will somehow recharge us in the process. You choose.” (RoyAllenHunt)
No Name by Manolya F.

without my wings by strawberries
strawberries says that this image was inspired by Britney Spears’ song ‘Everytime’. I think it’s a beautiful song and this is a fantastic, darkly stylish interpretation of it!
without my wings by strawberries

And when the Clock stops.. by Matteo Pontonutti
“…how will they remember me?” Like a lot of Matteo Pontonutti‘s work this has a cold feeling of enormity about it, with its use of huge barren landscapes – this time exploring the stark and overwhelming fact of mortality.
And when the Clock stops.. by Matteo Pontonutti

Echoes…. by Carol Knudsen
This image was inspired by the Pink Floyd song ‘Echoes’ which starts with the lyrics “Overhead the albatross hangs motionless upon the air / And deep beneath the rolling waves / In labyrinths of coral caves / The echo of a distant tide / Comes willowing across the sand”. I love the cool melancholy in this picture. An inspired and inspiring piece.
Echoes.... by Carol Knudsen

endless solitary by vampvamp
A beautiful and poetic image, brilliant use of white space. There is something very philosophical about it…
endless solitary by vampvamp

the perplexity of L O S T by Fiery-Fire
Inspired by Salvador Dali, this surreal piece combines natural, emotive symbolism with fantastical symbolism, combining the realistic with the impossible to create a rather perplexing and intriguing image!
the perplexity of L O S T by Fiery-Fire

Cirrus by Randy Monteith
‘Cirrus clouds are cloud characterized by thin, wisplike strands, often bunched into tufts’ (says Wikipedia). I don’t know how to interpret this picture myself, but I just love its fresh, airy, bright and breezy feel.
Cirrus by Randy Monteith

Rising against…. by nanaris
This has such a feminine, earthy appeal and tells an intriguing story which can be interpreted in many ways…
Rising against.... by nanaris

Drowning in a Sea of Tears by Sandra Bauser Digital Art
I’ve had my eye on this piece for a while, waiting for an opportunity to feature it. It’s beautifully emotive and the crisp quality of the processing is sublime…
Drowning in a Sea of Tears by Sandra Bauser Digital Art

–from Rebecca Tun

Features 20/02/2011 – Softly, gently

It’s foggy out there and all the sounds are muted, which led me to today’s theme.

Laurie’s beautiful image is all gentle and quiet. I love the colours and soft feel of it.

Be Still, My Heart by © Laurie Search

Be Still, My Heart by © Laurie Search

Here’s a little something we do well to remember now and again by Rishani.

A breath by © Rishani Sittampalam

Life is but a breath … a whisper in the wind
Here today and whisked away so suddenly.

I love the simplicity and colours of Peter’s lovely shot.

...seedling… by © peter holme III

...seedling… by © peter holme III

Another gentle reminder of what is important by Hollyann.

one drop by © hollyann

one drop
dries up
all alone
but mixed with others
becomes
a puddle
a rivulet
a river
a flood

feeding gentle fishes
tending the sea weed
crystaling salt
and playing tide music

an ocean of beauty
you know
we can’t do this
on
our
own

I’ve always been a fan of Dorina’s art, and this one is special. I love the title and the way she executed this painting, full of questions and doubt and beauty.

Daisies…and doubts by © dorina costras

Daisies…and doubts by © dorina costras

And here’s another of my favourites on RB – Lisa’s poem is mysterious and magical.

mercy by © Lisa Jewell

her alabaster lip
pouted
seductively

her tangled spirit
rolled
achingly

her desire for touch
spilled
into waiting hands

her tears
washed
all the feet that walked into her heart

her heart
broke down
the truth had been lost in lies

her shadow of a vessel
slipped silently
back into the alabaster jar

A little bit more heat now from Randy. I couldn’t resist this clever image – full of fire and passion and more.

Embers by © Randy Monteith

Embers by © Randy Monteith

More passion, even if it’s of a sad kind by SimplyRed. You can’t help but be touched by these words.

Burning of the old Homefire by © SimplyRed

He walks silently through
pristine snowfall
each footstep…. beating crisply
in time with his heart

pumping heart of lonely
but chilled to the very core
the homefire burns
with thoughts of her

there will be no greeting
of warmth nor doorstep of comfort
no welcome mat
of open arms to make him smile

three winters now
since death stole her
creeping in through
night times darkness
swooped away on
wind of ill fate

vacant empty rooms
filled with memories
their love dusting tabletops
and chairs of comfort

footsteps deep and crisp
homeward bound
life now barron
as winters landscape

his breath fogs
as a single tear
tracks an icy cold chill
upon his cheek

Rebecca’s whimsical image brings new hope.

Rays of Sunlight – Morning Mist by © Rebecca Tun

Rays of Sunlight – Morning Mist by © Rebecca Tun

I couldn’t resist this poem by PJ either. For me it’s full of light.

the colors of lightening by © ShadowDancer

He asked her
“Have you ever seen lightening
before it leaves the clouds?”

She softly smiled
and shook her head in response.

(never daring to tell him
that it has 8 colors
and she sees it
every time his eyes meet hers)

There’s something sad about Ruby’s image, but it’s a gentle sadness, one that has almost given up. Touching, very.

God Help The Outcasts by © Ruby Del Angel

God Help The Outcasts by © Ruby Del Angel

Finally, Mohawk Man’s poem. It seemed a fitting match to Ruby’s image and a fitting end for these features.

the insanity of inanity by © mohawk man

Trapped
in all my freedom’s glory
not a care in the world
nor a worry
save the love of my lives

Caged
by the very uselessness that set me “free”
with too much time
to ponder
the what if’s of yesterday

Hopeless
seems tomorrow
regardless of the dreams
of a young man
with the world in his hands

Enjoy!

8th Feb 2011 features – Touched By Fire

It’s great that there’s so much excellent work in the Touched By Fire group that I was able to go through just a portion of the gallery looking for art that could specifically be interpreted as meaning “touched by fire”, AND I was spoilt for choice!

Mundoo 49 by Alenka Co
Touched by an inner glow

Effervescence by LisaMM
Touched by a searing passion

Inferno by ajgosling
Touched by lightning

DON'T LOOK BACK!! by Sherri...Charmaine Nicholas
Touched by God’s wrath

Patience, Claire. by Matteo Pontonutti
Touched by magic

Lake of golden light - swan silhouette by Penny V P
Touched by the setting sun

LOVE - Seascape by Linda Callaghan
Touched by unquencahble infatuation

Moo Two - by pauldrobertson
Posessed by a burning rage

I Am Woman, So Am I by Leni Kae
Touched by a lover – the joyful inner heat

The loss of sanity by scott black
Tortured by a relentless sorrowful energy

The Surface of the Sun by Martin Millar
Touched by the beauty of light

Sun-racer by Penny Kittel
Moved by the exhilarating heat of the moment

by Rebecca Tun
xxx

First Features of 2011 – 02/01/2011

Here are the first features of the year. It is always a joy to do the features for Touched by Fire – there is so much interesting art and writing that the difficulty is deciding what not to include.

I am starting this journey off with a little house, an unusual house in a setting that seems to to draw you in.

SHELL HOUSE by © KEIT

SHELL HOUSE by © KEIT

And since the house looked like something from a fairytale it naturally lead me to this fantastic poem…

No Fairytale Ending by © kat86

What happens when you spend your whole life
Thinking you’re the ugly duckling who turns into a swan
Then you realise there is no fairy tale ending
and the hope you had is gone.

What happens when prince charming finds your slipper
But your foot is just too big
The frog you kissed goes missing
and your pumpkin turns out wrong.

Just because you dont love your reflection
Doesn’t mean the clouds will always rule
Look beyond the magic carpet, the jokers not always a fool
Don’t play the damsel, the world has enough distress

Heroes save your heart, you’ll have to do the rest.

In the neverending story of this thing that we call life
Your time is just beginning, don’t end it with a knife.
Just put on your overalls, wipe off the cinder ash
Finish your chores, steal from the chocolate stash.

Get your dress ready, dance with your bestfriend
Be home by midnight
A curfew is not the end.

There’s something special about this image. You’re not sure if she’s fleeing or running towards something. I like a bit of mystery.

...come Closer…...... by © CORA D. MITCHELL

...come Closer…...... by © CORA D. MITCHELL

Assuming that she was running towards something, I wondered if it might be the new year and all the things that might be on their way.

hello new day by © hollyann

the start
of the new three six five
lucky to be alive
and hovering on this new
extension
the light looks clean
and showing me out
of the tunnel

i am moving towards
the next horizon
and when things
feel an uncomfortable
fit
i twist and turn
until the landscape
bends
making amends
for the new seeds
and the new branches
poking through
the dirt

we are on this journey
together
your hand in mine
after all this time
we take the road
together
the road
less travelled by
mostly gravel
but leading to
the open sea

with sails unfurled
and winds caught up
we move across the
white capped waves
with telescope to eye
looking for first sight
of land

But life’s not always gentle and there might be some dark days ahead…

Dark Days by © Rebecca Tun

Dark Days by © Rebecca Tun

BUT there is always hope…

Adrift by © AnniG

Tonight I cast my sins, fears, tumultuous thoughts
upon the vast inky waters of this bottomless ocean
sending them to drift along the turbulent raging tides
to wash up upon your pristine sundrenched shore
buried on a coastal beach of bleached salty sand
to shrivel under the sweltering gaze of unrelenting
sun

perhaps you will hear the primal wails in sheer agony
perhaps you will pick and weigh them in your palm
perhaps you will rescue, cleanse, hold them close
perhaps you will breathe new life in purification
perhaps, you may even learn to live with them
perhaps you could learn to love this part of
me

maybe the new year will bring release
maybe it will come in time to let go
maybe I will finally be set free to
be

I loved this image for the focus on what’s important and the hope it makes me feel.

H-K264 by © hsien-ku

H-K264 by © hsien-ku

And the next poem seems to encapsulate all that I felt when I looked at the picture.

Circumnavigation by © Kristin Reynolds

It was dark when the light came
like a memory
like a firefly
like a nerve—

like the last of the fallen angels;
like the most beautiful thought
tossed off a bridge
in the quiet
and absolute still

of stars making waves below.

I find myself in this madness,
shaded and sharp
as a moment of glory;

curved
like the palm
of the moon;

two steps behind
never-ending.

I can’t say I was surprised
when the whistle blew
my hair back
like wheat in a gale—

or when the gods
poured down like
slow golden rain

from the crown
to the sea
to the wind;

to life growing seeds for angels

to will
to union
to root—

gifts of the being alone;

or when dawn
washed through
like infinite hands

anointing
my shroud
with the currency
of a perfectly fluted memory

with which
to see
in the dark

an arc
of bodiless
gold.

This next image impressed me with its composition as well as the feelings it evoked.

Wings of Desire IV – II When No One Comes by © Darren Vannoy

Wings of Desire IV – II When No One Comes by © Darren Vannoy

The next fabulous poem makes the perfect companion with its thoughtful whimsy.

WHEN WE SLEEP by © Kirrill D’Kainn

When midnight points to the moon
With the voice of wolfs
And when all winds motion bloom

The night … she replies

In the realm of fragrant foliage
Smooth are the sounds of shadows

Flights of silver owls feeding
In fashion of rose-mooned pearls
And the scent of carrion

A little true twisted crescent
The humour of this quintessence
Shift in daydreams of desire … and

The night … she replies

With melodies
That gather the spirits of rain … and
Pain of lightning struck twice

Strange and dying winds
Where desolation
Runs in rivers of cold gray sleep

End

However I wanted to end these first features of the year on a hopeful note and this image seemed to show me all the little tendrils of hope for the year just started.

Meditation of Green by © linaji

Meditation of Green by © linaji

May we indeed “step gracefully” through the coming year.

Doors of Life…. by © SimplyRed

Stained with life’s destiny
solidly standing
but gently framed
the doors of time
always slightly ajar
are closing fast

cautiously peering outwards
a gentle nudge of passage
the door creaks softly
hinges hung with peril…..
on threadbare scent of cedar

hold tight to my forever key
unlocking…
each knot of wood…
forged in place

my right of passage
peering along time aging corridors
onwards to the rapid hands of time
forever taunting….
slow the hands on the clock

please set them free
I want to stay in the real life
so many more memories
I want to take with me

realisations of harshness
tightening hinges
too young to surrender,
more things to remember
wishes sliding through key holes
close not my solid cedar door
instead …..
knock gently
and wipe your feet
softly ….
as we step gracefully
through life

I hope your enjoy the features and have a very happy New Year.

Features 19th December 2010

This weekend has been all about snow, at least here in the UK. Every surface is coated in a generous, perfecting layer of soft but brilliant whiteness, and the air is light and sharp and unforgiving. For a photographer it presents lots of new challenges, not least of which is trying to persuade people to model for you outside! Anyway the features for this week are all about white, calm and cold. I’ve put images and pieces of writing together in pairs that I think reflect each other.

Landscape in Blueby Caroline Lembke
Landscape in Blue

the cold by hollyann
why is it
that the sky
so pristine blue
looks cleaner with cold

so clean
so bright
so silent night
all is calm
all is right

why is it
that i feel
anticipation
in the midst
of the season
of death
the dying
of the year
maybe the dying
of old unnecessary
fears

the cold
slows
our blood
slows our
movements
makes us stay in
makes us face
what little we have
left

so clean
so bright
so silent night
all is calm
all is right

the cold
makes us generate
warmth

Aphrodite by Donna Ingham
Aphrodite by Donna Ingham

Icicles by Sybille Sterk
It’s quiet
No words just shards
Dripping from my lips
Like icicles
Falling down
Making a pretty sound
But no sense
That springs to mind
Just drip-drop-dripping
Onto the page
Forming strange shapes
Like frost flowers
Painted by a mad elf
Words that sometimes
Come gently
Just drip-drop-dripping
Onto the page
Making patterns
Clearing the mind
Now they are frozen
Just cold and hard
Spiky shapes
Unwieldy and resisting
Just drip-drop-dripping
From my frozen mind
Holding no relief
Giving no sustenance
Just drip-drop-dripping
Like icicles
Falling down
Just drip-drop-dripping
Making a pretty sound
But no sense.

____________
© Sybille Sterk

The story of frozen dreams by dorina costras
The story of frozen dreams by dorina costras

Child with skin made of stars by Kristin Reynolds
We are not lost—one
within the other,
our lines are their own,
hung
from side by side stars, riding
a sky made of earth
whispered
with ancestor’s feet.

We are love,
cradled
within love’s womb

shining from the inside out.

© Kristin Reynolds 12 1 2010

sanctuary by David M collab with autumnwind
sanctuary by autumnwind

the stone of you by robin ellen lucas
i fell asleep
with you
holding you tight
eyes closing
with a smile
your mystical roots
fears no more.

in the morning
you were still there
my hands in stillness
enclosing you
you whispered a secret…
you slept with
my magic

r.e.l. 4/27/10

Sierra by Zuzana D Photography
Sierra by Zuzana D Photography

Cumulus (The Gathering) by James Watson
You are the vapor
And I am the condenser
Come gather to me

Silence #3 by gnolan
Silence #3 by gnolan

To Hear Love by Rhenastarr
To hear love
Be Still
Listen with your heart
Sometimes it is but a whisper

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!

Features for November 14, 2010

There are two ways of spreading light – to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it. ~Edith Wharton.

Giving love to our hosts/bloggers. A lot of hard work goes into Touched By Fire, both the group and the blog. Like you, each of our co-hosts have lives outside of the bubble… families, jobs, and responsibilities. Yet, they always find time to devote to our blog and group, sharing gratitude, encouragement, and support with all of us without hesitation. I can’t express how much our little group of volunteers continue to encourage and wow me with their generosity and friendship to keep this blog buzzing along.

These wonderful people are also artists in their own right. In fact, it was their role and quality as artists that made me ask each of them to join TBF. I love the variety of styles, media, and ‘flavor’ that everyone brings to the table, and to see how that affects their choices in features and blog posts.

Touched by Fire, the blog, is nearing it’s 1 year anniversary. I wanted to take a moment this week to celebrate our co-hosts as artists and allow them to get some basking in the limelight they, without complaint, bestow upon all of you. I have chosen to showcase different pieces on the blog than on the features page, simply because I wanted to give their work more exposure than is allotted by the features page. Duffboy, MagpieMagic, Moonspiral, Rebecca Tun, lroof, and Linaji – I wholeheartedly celebrate each of you as amazing artists, incredible co-hosts and bloggers, and especially dear friends.

Duffboy
Duff was one of my first co-hosts and he has stuck by me through thick and thin. He really helped me give this blog a great running leap and was always entertaining us with terrific posts, tidbits, and helpful information. I first came across Duff as a writer. His ability to evoke sharp-shooting emotions within just a few lines really grabbed me. He’s a man of many talents, including photography and film-making.  Here are a few pieces of Duffboy:


Echo
I’m your alternate ending
the button you
should’ve pushed
21 flavors in a single
cup.

I’m the passerby
who dialed 911
mystery man, scape goat
a bomb.

I’m the right words
to say when you need
to seduce, snake charmer,
whenever you must perform
spread legs forgery.

I’m the echo, the real deal
a surface just cleaned.

MagpieMagic
Sybille, otherwise known as MagpieMagic, is a photo manipulator of the otherworldly kind. I have been following her work since I first joined the bubble. Explore beyond her redbubble portfolio and you will find she is a creative in every sense of the world; her own blogs and websites display an array of beautiful things, jewelry, crocheting, writing, knick knacks, handbags, to name a few. She has also helped keep the blog a buzz with her features and giving spirit. Please enjoy a little bit of MagpieMagic:

The Secret Keeper
He stood in the dark wood, doubtfully looking at the moon through the trees. He shivered in the cold air. Before he had time to consider his choices and give in to his fears she stood before him.

Her hair was long and shimmered blue in the light of the moon. Ribbons were tied in it, each with a key at the end of it.

“You are the Secret Keeper?” he asks her.

She nods.

He pulls a blue silk ribbon and a key out of his pocket and shows them to her.

“Any questions before we proceed?” she says with a low, soft voice.

He thinks for a moment, “Will my secret be safe with you? A lot of lives depend on it.”

“Of course”, she replies with certainty, “I am the Secret Keeper.”

He pointedly looks at the discoloured and scarred flesh of her shoulder. “Are you sure? Even under torture?”

She smiles and a soft green glow appears in her eyes, “Yes, I am sure. Even under torture, maybe especially under torture. This”, she looks at her shoulder, “happened a long time ago, when I was a new keeper and didn’t know my power yet. Do you want to change your mind?”

He shakes his head. “What happens now?”

She holds her hand out and after a moment of confusion, he gives her the ribbon and the key.

With another of her little smiles she leans forward. He whispers the secret into her ear, breathing in the scent of her, earth, smoke and a flowers whilst he does so. It makes him feel light headed. He finishes the telling and takes a step back, watching her as she ties the ribbon into her hair and attaches the key to its end.

“That’s it?” he wants to know.

“Yes, that’s it, no more is required. Your secret will be safe with me.”

“What happens if I ever need the secret back?” he queries.

“I’ll find you.”

“How will you find me? I could be anywhere.”

She laughs, and with a mocking tone in her voice she replies, “The same way I found you today. I will know if and when you need me. There is a connection between us now anyway”, she said.

“But how will you know which secret it is?” he asks curiously.

“I am the Secret Keeper and in my presence each secret will always know it’s owner” ,she explains and pulls on one of the ribbons. A key shimmers in the moonlight. He recognises the swirls and curls at the top of the key as the one he has given her.

Her dignity and serenity surprise him. She seems very young for such a responsibility.

“Is it difficult carrying all these secrets?” he wonders.

“Sometimes”, she agrees and then, almost inaudible, “they whisper to me, late at night”, and in a normal voice she continues, “you are full of questions, aren’t you? Remember, curiosity killed the cat.”

He grins, “It’s what I do, ask questions. How did you become a keeper of secrets, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“If I told you that”, she laughs at the look on his face, “you’d have to take over. Are you ready for that?”

He shakes his head and raises his hands, “No, thank you. My job is difficult enough.” He takes a step back to make his point.

“Our business is finished then. Unless you have more questions?” she asks him with a mocking smile.

He shakes his head again. “No, no, we’re done.”

She smiles, “So be it then.”

“Take care of yourself”, he tells her.

For the first time surprise shows on her face. “I will take care of your secret, don’t worry.”

“I am sure you will, but that’s not what I meant. Take care of yourself. I wouldn’t like to see you hurt.”

“Thank you”, she smiles, but this time the smile lights up her face and he finally sees that she is beautiful, scarred shoulder notwithstanding. His fear leaves him and he smiles back at her. He is tempted to ask her something else just to keep her here with him a little longer.

“One last question?” he asks giving in to temptation.

She nods, amused by his curiosity.

“What happens if I die? What happens to the secret I mean?”

“The ribbon and key will crumble to dust and the secret will die with you.”

“Good. That’s very good.”

“Goodbye, be safe”, she says and when he looks up she is gone. There is a tinkling sound as of metal clinking against metal, but then that fades, too.

He stares for a moment at the place where she stood before him, then turns around and finds the path back to the city, his heart a lot lighter than it had been earlier.

___________
© Sybille Sterk

Moonspiral
Tammy Mae is a deep and loving artist that I have adored for some time. Her stunning paintings, women and goddesses with deeply expressive eyes and emotions, typically represent deep-level subconscious or spiritual conveyances. Her work blows me away every time. Enjoy a little glimpse of her stunning work:


Rebecca Tun
Rebecca’s photography won me over from first glance. Just one look at her portfolio and there is no doubt she will go far in the photography world. She is also a model and you may find her in some of her own, and others, work. Her work always focuses on the emotion of her subject along with storytelling. Please enjoy a few pieces of her work:


lroof
I came across Lauren through the homepage layout forum on redbubble. I loved her keen eye for great work, and especially for her ability to put together a collection of pieces that look great together. She is a budding photographer with a youthful, whimsical style that I adore. She’s one of the new kids on the block and came on board specifically to help me out with some of the things I stopped having time for, and of course I love her for it! Please enjoy a few of her fabulous photos:


Linaji
Seriously, is there someone on redbubble that doesn’t know Linaji? Photography, digital painting, storytelling, poetry, and not to be overlooked, her enthusiastic support to everyone else’s work. It’s no secret that Lina is a dear friend of mine, but truth is when I first started TBF I asked her to join me, but with commitments to many other groups she declined my invitation…. for a year. However, I’m a persistent little squirrel so I kept squeaking away at her until she finally had room in her life to be a part of us. Lina is seriously one of the very first persons that I ‘followed’ on the bubble. I found her because of her writing but also appreciated her visual art as well. I love the way Lina’s written word gets a hold of my insides and squeezes them until I gasp.. and the way she is constantly forging new paths in her photography and digital painting. Enjoy a few wonderful pieces of Linaji:

Your Pearls
We were waiting together
The lines of communication were all out
Wired up to find the sound of hearts like our own
Grey matter silver lined clouds
Amassing in the south
Waiting it seemed to rain on our parade.

However, we then looked toward each other
Our peaceful conversation seemed endless
And In our connection
There grew a peerless strength
Within each of us as we remembered
the world was our oyster.
It was then I began to feed you the pearls you were wearing
You took each one with a sensual understanding I cannot
quite describe except to say
I was in awe
My hands touched your skin like raw silk
Smiling you said you liked the itch of remembering with hands like mine
You liked the connection
As did I
And soon we forgot
How painful growing up can be.

Linaji 2009

Love each one of you,
PJ Djennel, aka ShadowDancer

Rebecca Tun – our newest blogger and co-host

I’m so utterly excited to announce an addition to the TBF family. Please welcome Rebecca Tun, who is a terrific up-and-coming model, photographer, and artist. Her styles can range considerably, from whimsical to period costumes, nudes, insightful, and introspective.

You may visit her own website here or her Redbubble Gallery here.

Please enjoy a little glimpse of Rebecca’s work:




Model Work:

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