Litost |
De la miseria y otras cosas. |
(Source: lightthebackgroundfirst)
(Source: jimmy-carrs-laugh, via artificialsimplicity)
This is my final art A2 piece, responding to the theme ‘Storyteller’.
I decided to tell my own story of self harm/food problems through visual means: a self portrait/collage in which I am trying to show that I have now recovered and moved on from what was a really horrible time in my life.
I think I took a risk by including torn-out diary pages from my second relapse in 2010, as a lot of people at school (and now the internet) will see this, and after all it is a very personal thing, when I wrote this I never intended it to be read by anyone other than myself. I decided to include the pages because it is my own way of coming to terms with the fact that this is how I once felt, despite being so far from those feelings now. I think it is better for me to face up to these pages, rather than pretending these feelings never existed. The diary in which they were stored was still sat in the box by my bed, and these words were lying stagnant in the air in my room, and I decided it was time to put them to use or at least get them out of my room as they are no longer relevant of helpful to me in any way. It was very satisfying, almost therapeutic, to tear them to pieces, I felt as though I was killing those thoughts so that they could never return. I stared at them in disbelief as I stuck them down - I can’t believe it was my hand that wrote these words, they seem alien to me now.
The collage coming from my mouth - the story - might not be as aesthetically pleasing or as nicely arranged as I had hoped it would be, but for the first time ever I realised I cared more about the message and meaning in my piece than how it was visually presented or how ‘pretty’ it looked. I hoped that it wouldn’t look too contrived, but I just wanted to portray self injury through small objects and items, where before long butterflies - hope, recovery, redemption, safety - start to emerge, and then take over. I wanted it to represent how I was once so caught up in self hatred and self denial that I thought I would never recover or never even want to recover, but then after much time I did see the light and everything started to fall into place, and I got my life back. Today as I assembled the piece, I realised the last time I had opened a box of razors had been in 2010, and the fact that I have come so far made me feel proud. I included such graphic items and horrible words because they are still a part of me and my story, but I have since risen above that and since realised that I am better than that.
I don’t know if anyone will have read this long description, but if you have done and you are also struggling with self-harm or an eating disorder or know someone who is, know that there is still hope yet. For years I was so low and so hopeless and remember thinking that I would never get better so I might as well take my own life. I am so glad I didn’t. I am admitting all this now because I have transformed and now see all the beauty in life and I am truly, truly happy. When I was 13 I didn’t see how I could ever not want to hurt myself, and at the age of 17 I know that recovery is possible, and recovery is beautiful. I don’t know exactly how to go about recovering, but I do know there is always the possibility of finding a way out. You just have to find it.
“Storyteller: Recovery” by Kate Powell
La foto salió movida.
Un cronopio va a abrir la puerta de la calle, y al meter la mano en el bolsillo para sacar la llave lo que saca es una caja de fósforos, entonces este cronopio se aflige mucho y empieza a pensar que si en vez de la llave encuentra los fósforos, sería horrible que el mundo se hubiera desplazado de golpe, y a lo mejor si los fósforos están donde la llave, puede suceder que encuentre la billetera llena de fósforos, y la azucarera llena de dinero, y el piano lleno de azúcar, y la guía del teléfono llena de música, y el ropero lleno de abonados, y la cama llena de trajes, y los floreros llenos de sábanas, y los tranvías llenos de rosas, y los campos llenos de tranvías. Asi es que este cronopio se aflige horriblemente y corre a mirarse al espejo, pero como el espejo está algo ladeado lo que ve es el paraguëro del zaguán, y sus presunciones se confirman y estalla en sollozos, cae de rodillas y junta sus manecitas no sabe para qué. Los famas vecinos acuden a consolarlo, y también las esperanzas, pero pasan horas antes de que el cronopio salga de su desesperación y acepte una tasa de té, que mira y examina mucho antes de beber, no vaya a pasar algo que en vez de una taza de té sea un hormiguero o un libro de Samuel Smiles.
"Julio Cortázar, Historias de Cronopios y de Famas. (via axlcrow)
(via phoenix-ology)
Goce, objeto.
Telephone
Artwalk Opening: Friday, March 8 from 6:00-9:30pmBherd Gallery and Home Suite Home gallery (Greenwood Art Collective) have been busy tying up the phone lines and playing a game of telephone with 20+ local artists. Telephone is the visual-arts version of the telephone game: where a sentence is whispered from person to person, becoming more garbled with each repetition.
How do you play telephone with paintings? One artist creates an original work, photographs it, and sends it to the next artist who creates a piece based on the themes of the first—and so on down the line. With only the prior reference to consult, some artists remain strictly faithful to the previous piece, while others embellish and transform, altering the thread as they do. Some threads veer dramatically from their origins, while others end up uncannily similar to the first piece. In the leaf-themed thread—the first three works pictured above—certain elements wiggle their way into the canon, while others drop out along the way. The longest thread in the exhibition is eight pieces long – does it stay intact or go sideways? Get in the whisper chain to find out.
(I’ve got a piece in this show!)
The Temptation of Saint Anthony (detail), Hieronymus Bosch, 1500
(via phoenix-ology)
how she do that
- The ...
“Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere.”
This was a comic I doodled for twitter but I redrew it for tumblr, so here you go!!
Jacques Tati launching into the construction of “Tativille” for his film PLAYTIME (1967).
Ph. André Dino. © Les Films de Mon Oncle.
Third picture:...