Prisoner of Art

Stays up late at night,

to hear the whispers of the dark

and kiss it good night.

 

Writes poems until

eyes burn and back starts to ache.

Keep the Muse alive.

 

Drinks too much coffee

to let the fingers explore

new worlds in the arts.

 

If I shall die young

then I will have created

many beautiful things.

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// never stop writing.  never stop creating.  push yourself to new limits.  let the world see your heart.  //



The Butterfly Circus

Dreams

by Langston Hughes

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

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I normally don't post videos but this time I couldn't resist.  This beautiful and heart-touching short film is called "The Butterfly Circus" and is directed by Joshua Weigel featuring the amazingly talented actor Eduardo Verastegui and the equally inspiring Nick Vujicic. 

'The Butterfly Circus is the story of a renowned circus troupe traveling through the devastated American landscape at the height of the Great Depression, lifting the spirits of audiences along the way. During their travels they discover a man without limbs in a carnival sideshow, but after an intriguing encounter with the showman, he becomes driven to hope against everything he has ever believed.'  -IMDb summary

Please watch it and share it with your family and friends.  We need more films with messages like this in our world.



underwater

creature of gravity,

break your feet off the ground;

sever the vines that hold you down.

 

~~~

 

swallowed.

time stands still in the cold hollow

of the creature that fills you with its breath.

 

~~~

 

an alien world.

the whispers of its translucent skin

envelope you in a luscious, cold embrace.

 

~~~

 

you breathe through your pores,

one with the liquid wrappings that gently bind you,

suspended in a trap of time and moonlight.

 

~~~

 

what is left of your roots

rise up in orbs of human air,

unable to live submerged in the liquid of this dream world.

 

~~~

 

voices press against your ears.

the shapeless being that has swallowed you

is trying to whisper the secrets of its universe to you.

 

~~~

 

angel of another world,

watch the dust of a dying reality dissolve.

let the water renew your soul.

********************************************************************************************************

As requested by Mary-Catherine <3

// the heavenly music that inspired this poem //



A Study of Moriarty // Art Dump

"Every fairytale needs a good old-fashioned villain" - Jim Moriarty, Consulting Criminal

 

Here are a few facts for you. 

1)  I love Sherlock because it's a brilliant, aesthetic, and addicting show full of the most amazing acting and plot-twists. 

2)  I also love Moriarty because he's the most evil and terrifying villain I've ever seen on a screen. 

3)  Steven Moffat.  I'm going to find you.  And I'm going to make your murder look like an accident. 

I won't go into depth about Moriarty's character, because it's like a black hole of sadistic insanity you get sucked into.  Just like the fandom. 

All you need to know, is that James Moriarty is one of the most fascinating and evil characters ever invented and is an arrogant, psychopathic, and brilliant genius. 

So what do I do when I find a character that I'm just so in love with, so deeply fascinated with their character that it's very hard not to throttle every other human who says derogatory things about said character?


I draw a picture.  That's what people DO.

Here is le picture.  I call it "A Study of Moriarty" because you know...A Study in Pink?  Get it?  I'm hilarious shut up.

I actually kept track of the progress this time so here is the step by step progress thing.


Step 1.  Find a reference image.

This is always the hardest part because I can never decide on an image.  It's a process of "I LOVE THEM ALL but which one SPEAKS to me the most."  I decided this one looked the most "evil" so there we go.  (Don't get me wrong though, I still want to draw all the rest)

 

Step 2.  Scribble out an outline.

I hate this part.  It usually involves long pep talks and me mentally preparing myself to take the plunge.  Because this is the part that will decide whether or not the entire picture will turn out and within a few seconds of that pencil being in contact with paper, tell me if it's a Drawing Day or a Not Drawing Day.  And it always turns out to be cringey no matter how much I try on the outline. 

look how cringey this is.  the cringe.

Step 3.  Recklessly start shading.

I have the patience of a small armadillo sitting on a cactus so no, I am not going to wait to check it the outline needs to be revised I JUST JUMP RIGHT IN WITH MAH BLENDER.

slightly less cringey and more evil but still

Step 4.  .....More shading.


This lasts forevaaaaahhhhhhhh.  Because this is the phase where I notice all the places my outline failed me and the proportions are all over the place.  And then my eraser comes out.  And I erase what I just shaded.  And this happens like 68 more times and my patience is usually snapped at some point.

the glare is coming along nicely

Step 5.  Realize proportions are still not right and panic.


..........................................
I hate this part so much it makes me have so much self-loathing and doubt and I basically start planning another career in law or medicine because THE ARTS HATE ME LOOK AT THIS MONSTROSITY. 

it was here that I realized with a sinking heart that his mouth was too small

Step 6.  Give up on the face and just start the suit.


This is where I throw in the towel, scream "IT'S GOOD ENOUGH", and just start shading the lovely creases of Moriarty's Westwood suit.

it's hard to draw with that face leering up at you

Step 7 (Step the Last).  Cry over the finished (?) product.


I always end a picture when my patience finally snaps and I have no desire to fix anything else I just want it to be DONE. 

kalghslghsHSLDKGHSskdhg

Aaaand that's the step-by-step progress of "A Study of Moriarty", everyone! 


Then I have to run around and show my parentals my new picture and spend an hour looking for good camera angles and places with good lighting and props for the photoshoot and which Instagram filters to use and....it's a lengthy progress. 

Well, that's the art dump for this decade.  Enjoy. 


Now have some heart-wrenching Twenty One Pilots concert renditions because feels:

Bye bye darlings.



The Maze Ghost

I am a ghost, transparent and silenced,

The bitter tracings of what's left of my soul,

The peeled away mist to reveal my heart--

A raw, pumping, trembling piece of meat--

I am nothing more than my mind

Dancing across the melting sun

As my laugh drowns my ears and chokes me.

No longer trying to be someone I'm not,

Just turn my eyeballs inward to light up

The dark that devours the maze of my head.

Running and tripping to find a safe refuge

Before the light goes out and the monsters find me.

I want to change, but I do not know how so I

Run and ignore the storm destroying my shell.

I am invisible, a spirit of torn apart dreams,

Guarding the flickering lights of my hope.

The black shade in my mind is cool and deadly,

I find patches of light where the fingers can't grope.

Curled up in my silence I pray when my thoughts

Are lucid enough to remember to call for help.

There's a war raging outside but in here I am free--

Insane and terrified but at least not in a cage--

Just the monsters to run from and the pits to escape.

My monsters are safer than the monsters outside,

I know them--they smell of my scent--they're my children.

My dying brain is a maze that I will never escape.

The maze ghost is the only creature still alive.

Immortal, undying, pursued by my creations,

Heart drenching my soul in blood as I flee.

But perhaps when the sun shatters the moon and

my words sing the monsters to sleep and the sky falls in,

I'll see the light of a rising soul and the burning liquid

Will quench my hunger, the gnawing yearning inside.

And I'll crawl out of my blackened and trampled maze

To find the war is over and the smoke is gone.

I can be myself and be silenced no longer.

I am a ghost in the maze of my head.

I guard my thoughts and keep the monsters in check.

Immortal curator of a fragile galaxy.

Alone and happy that way.

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This one goes out to all my fellow introverts who live in their minds.