Art Piece: Trickling Away

A revisit to an old piece. Which one of you can guess which one it is?

If you like my art, you can buy prints of them here. I need some ideas for a new piece since I’m fresh out. Like and follow if you enjoyed.

Lieutenant out.

Art Piece: Silenced

This is my favorite piece to date so I made it my profile picture. This is one of the last pieces left in my gallery that I haven’t showcased yet so I really need some new ideas. I currently have a piece under construction but it’s not going to be finished anytime soon if you guys have a request, then I’d like to hear it (a request, you hear? not a commission because I don’t believe in making my art for just one person). As always, thanks for dropping by and peace out.

If you like this piece and would like to buy a print of it, I made Silenced available for sale on my DA page here.

Shoutout to Flash365: The Most Beautiful Thing I’ve Ever Seen

Check out Flash365’s blog if you like what you see!

I remember the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t remember when. I don’t remember why. I do remember where; Minneapolis, Minnesota.

There was a girl. We met in Maine. We met again two years later in Massachusetts. She moved to Minnesota in that phase after a first kiss when colors vibrate and whistle tunes.

I worked two jobs for two months. I bought a flight to Minneapolis. I told her I loved her. She took me to a rave with her friends. It was a Friday. The music was loud, so loud it made my bones ache. I sat in a corner drawing cartoons on coasters. She danced. I left for a cigarette. It was cold; late fall, maybe. The lights were on in a bar across the street.

I don’t remember crossing the road. I remember sitting at the bar. It was light there. The bartender made me a gin and tonic; fast, cheap and watered down, with a dry lime.

A musician with a rag of hair in green sunglasses played cover-tunes on a corner-platform.

A man made of cut-off sleeves of old T-shirts and unwashed beer cans stumbled around on the floor. He cried out the words to “Sweet Caroline.” He sounded like a lost child in the grocery store. All of him danced. His fingers played two guitars, his feet stepped on two different sets of phantom toes and his eyes did the waltz. He was the happiest man in the world.

Then a sound broke through the music. A sound that would make you run, alone in the woods. A woman, made entirely of week old bread and wet ash-trays leapt onto the floor. She had a mole on her left temple. She stumbled into the man. Her wild hair met his camouflage hat and fell in love. They regained their composure and fell into a bestial jig. She fell left, him right. They complimented each other like yin and yang in a blender.

I watched as they both howled out “Bap-Bap-Bah!” into the air. The man in green sunglasses upped his game. He played louder, sang harder. People in the bar began to clap. I did too, forgetting my gin and tonic. The pair on the floor swung each other around. The man dipped the woman and dropped her on her ass. She wriggled around on the ground. The man stood above her shaking his butt, lower, and lower. She spanked it. He howled. He turned and pulled her up off the ground. They both came in close, singing into each other’s invisible microphones. Then, they spread their arms wide as the last verse died, their pot bellies kissing for the first and last time.

The song ended. The bar cheered. The man and woman high-fived. The woman went back to her table of friends. The man slumped into a nearby booth.

Someone touched my arm. The girl I was there to see looked at the scene, then at me.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked.

I opened my mouth. I closed it. She grabbed me by the hand and dragged me out of the bar. I stared across the street at the concert hall. A hoard of high-heels and hair-gel are smoking outside of it.

“You go ahead. I’ll be in soon,” I told her. She shrugged and dashed off. I sat down on the curb and lit a cigarette. I took a breath and began to cry.

Source: The Most Beautiful Thing I’ve Ever Seen

Art Piece: A Spider’s Thread

choices__by_ltdemonlord-da1fw7r

 

The Spider’s Thread in this piece has a double meaning. It could symbolise the fragility of good or… it could be something else. If you want to know the story behind the spider’s thread, click here.

As always, leave a comment below and perhaps some suggestions as to new concepts y’all would like me to explore. I’m currently pulling all these art pieces from my gallery which means I’ll soon run out of art pieces to upload on here because I haven’t finished a piece since December of 2016… :/

Please don’t copy and paste for your own use without telling me. I do have a copyright on all of my art so it’s just better not to violate that.

Art Piece: Waiting

 

waiting_by_ltdemonlord-d9jl8kk
-December 9th, 2015

As a side note, I’d very much like it if some of you artsy people would recommend some ideas for new drawings for me. I’ve been hitting some serious artist’s block this past school year and soon, I’ll run out of pieces to post on here. So please help. Leave what you thought of the piece down below as well.

 

A Lonely Life

 

picnic-bench-in-snow-29941281359497toaj
When the cold and wind of life wears you down, you find a cold snow-covered bench to rest yourself.

 

 

A poem to share and analyse today by Ella Wheeler Wilcox:

Solitude

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone;
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, it is lost on the air;
The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go;
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you lose them all,—
There are none to decline your nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life’s gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure
For a large and lordly train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
Analysis:
This poem resonates with us through our shared experiences and sobers us through its masterful usage of compare and contrast. It also reveals an intrinsic part of human nature– that of denial. We hate the sad and unpleasant and seek to avoid it at all costs. Even if it a loved one that is hurting, we would rather get it over with as soon as possible to move on to happier things. While it is something good to surround ourselves with positive things, the poem exudes a much more negative attitude towards this side of human nature. It shows a side of human selfishness, the very sign of mortality itself. After all, only one with earthly needs is able to deprive others of the same needs in order to satisfy himself.
It also shows how uncaring the world is by the line:
Sing, and the hills will answer; Sigh, it is lost on the air
It is not other humans that deny suffering, but also the earth. The earth, something that should give us all that we need, is not only unmovable but also impervious to human suffering.
This poem encourages you to sit down next to the abandoned, the neglected and the dejected. Listen to them. After all, whatever else you may have in common, everyone has the human experience and you may one day be in need of someone to talk to you while you’re down.