The Ancestral Burden

We have been living with stolid faith
Beginning, even though we have not started
In fear of an end that is always too near
Afraid to walk forward
Too proud to look back

Demons consume our conscious thought
Preaching, all that is fabricated is real
Breathing life into suspended eidolons
Telling the righteousness of tradition
Showing the predetermined path of failure

Wonderful gardens of daisy's
Grow to fantastic heights
Where we hath buried our loves
Their souls ascend to the clouds above
For sake of others gripes
We ask timidly ‘when will it end’
Hoping the answer will be of speedy resolution

Without just cause, we sit and stew
Empathy of piercing ache from others like you
Fills the world with anger and revenge
The garden still grows from falling tears
Spirits of those once warned
Wash out to mid-sea
Where their memory fades
and trumpets play for thee

Restitution; there is a boundless sea
Where black souls sink
And war ships repair upon ashen, gravel beach
Reddening face, ablaze for sake of souls sacrificed
Silence comes from all around
Tribulations arch-over the eternally bound

What is there for those who have lost?
Who have graves instead of lovers.
Minds unturned over centuries of grotesque past
Devilish pleasures known for too long
We have appeased those with too much pride
Conquering, as nations divide
living freely under absolute rule
In a society where justice prays on the innocent fool

Iron Clad

A memory is a mask of reality. 

A face is forever locked in your memory, even if you can't remember all the details. 

New Painting

Anti-Gravity

Clothing Inspiration

I do no own these images

 

The patterns on these garments are very abstract yet playful enough not to distract the eye from the model. 

The perfect aesthetic combination.

Bring the Irish Out

Necklace that I always wear to remind me of my grandma

Clover Floating on a still pond

The Door to Happiness

Earth Scape 1994

Crux- Part II

Part II

Suddenly, air was unnaturally forced out of her lungs; she sat straight up, draining a bright yellow shriek out of her body. The equinox of pleasure over terror made her feel somewhat sane, being in the middle was always better than being on one of the two extremes; she was finally in the space between spaces.  With every smooth breath she took careful notice of her surroundings.

A white bed sheet, a television mounted on the wall, a large window to the right.  She moved her toes about trying to get a feel for the reality of her body, it felt like she hadn’t moved a muscle in days.

The limitless being she has recently experienced was only a memory now, and attempting to tell anyone about it would leave for an unsatisfied conversation. Presently, she knew roughly where she was, but she couldn’t figure out why it was necessary to be there. The change in scenery was puzzling her; “could it have been a car accident?” she asked in a plum colored tone, “I don’t even remember getting into a car.”  

There was a knock on the door and two nurses entered. The short brunettes name tag read ‘Barbara’, and the taller blondes read ‘Nancy’. Nancy stared at the chart clipped to the bottom of her bed while Barbara injected her with a clear liquid.

“Does that stuff make for night terrors?” she asked with a half smile, waiting for the nurse to smile back

“No, I don’t believe so. Feeling a little anxious?” she returned the smile.

“I guess so, I had a terrible dream; it can still frighten me now if I let it” she said, looking for pity comfort for her trauma.

 “She’s probably still groggy, she went through a lot” Nancy interjected.

“What do you mean ma’am?” the girl inquired while a small red fear grew in the darkness of her confusion.

“You were left at the ER last night, no wallet, nothing, you are lucky, most people don’t survive falls from that distance” Barbara explained.

“A fall? From where? What happened?!” Slightly more agitated than before

Nancy turned on the television that was mounted on the wall directly in front of her after she closed the chart.

“A witness said he saw a girl running down his street screaming bloody murder and without warning jumped straight into a landfill that was easily 100 feet deep.” Barbara said recoiling to check if she had upset the girl.

 “Me?! What? No. Wait… WHAT?” she sputtered out nonsensical words from the shock of hearing the nurses’ explanation.

“Your mother is here, if you need anyth…” Nancy’s words became lost in the confusion of the situation and the garbled sound of the television.

“I’m insane, that’s all there is to it; I’m clinical.” Her mother overheard the muttered accusations

“Honey, there was nothing I could do, you just started running, I didn’t know what, I…” Tears started to flow as the lavender heat in the room intensified.

“Mom, I don’t know what happened, I would never do something like that”

“Honey, there’s something I need to tell you, or show you at least.”

Her mother gently grabbed a loose end of the sheet covering her legs and pulled it back to expose them.

“The nurses said you were admitted with this on your leg.” Her mother said in a cloudy tone.

A white, gauze bandage was over her right ankle, about 6 inches across in length; she sat up violently from the sight of it. 

The bandages came off in a fast tear revealing a magnolia pedal size gash on her outer leg and four long skinny red pedals on the inside.

“Look, you’re not crazy, in fact, far from it. There is no reason for us to hide this from you, but it would go against ethics, so I’m telling you this all in confidence, understand?!” said the blonde nurse who let herself into the room and my curiosity, closing the door behind her.

“I understand, what is it?”

“There have been reports of people in this area who experience episodes similar to ‘night terrors’ and ‘sleepwalking’. They are usually struggling with some major issue in their waking life. It’s incredible really, you could have jumped out of a 30 story apartment building like one man did. All the victims were reporting blackouts and physical trauma as well as the emotional trauma from the…ahem…episodes. There was a girl who was experiencing a particularly terrible episode one night and she was able to tell us what she was seeing as it was happening”

“It was you. You told us. You said there was a portal that you came upon after being chased by some sort of demon. “The fall” caused you to come back to reality as it had done the nights before but…” her mother teetered off, questioning her place.

“We think that since you have that gash on your leg from the last episode, a part of you is still on the other side with that…thing.” Nancy concluded, but she wasn’t proud of herself.

The nights when the air was just crisp enough to allow her mind to wander with ease, the deformed, gaunt face of Crux appeared just as vile and horrifying as ever. The girl had been in the ICU for 5 days with no signs of improvement her injuries become more and more severe until one night, November 29^th the beast struck at the most vital place, her heart. The girl passed away from unknown trauma and a tremendous loss of blood.

 Nancy and Barbara moved to new floors in order to escape any association with the ‘Crux Case.’

Crux- Part I

Crux

The nights’ air was just crisp enough for a mind to wander into the depths of the subconscious without reservation. A girl, whose reality had turned upside down, was looking for a peaceful escape, a space between spaces.  When her eyes closed she would imagine walking backwards underwater without moving a step, slipping into a world only she knew. She drew in a robin’s egg blue breath, feeling the world around her unfolding to its fullest potential, every euphoric thought was felt and every emotion was beautifully displayed in a mask of color before her eyes.  Every night, for as long as she could remember, she would drift backwards with this blissful ease into the pristine world.

A clear scent of freshness filled the air; she took long, deep breaths which made the experience even stronger, she could almost cry from the sensory overload.

There were hydrangeas and chrysanthemum’s leading the way up to 5 monuments standing in the center of a marble garden. The smooth, polished marble stone clicked and gently snapped under her feet with every step. The challenge from dissecting the complexities of the statues' design drew her curiosity, every time she looked at them something new would present itself. She loved to admire this one particularly fantastic bronze statue on the far right of the garden. Perched atop a marble Victorian pedestal stood a strong, tall, figure;
the only writing was on a plaque at the bottom of the pedestal which read:

“Novem 29, 3474”

As she stared with a pink mixture of adoration and happiness, the beautiful face of the woman on top of the pedestal floated between elegant beauty and terrifying blurriness in a matter of seconds.

That glorious statue began visibly moving, but not as a result of its’ weight; something was affecting it internally. She walked around the fixture, one careful step at a time, reading its’ condition over with midnight-purple perplexity across her face.

An orange wave of curiosity blew over her as if a sheer scarf had just brushed her face.  She fought to keep her eyes open, but the worry that filled her was stronger. Her eyes squeezed shut, but only for a moment.

The monuments crippling decent caused the bronze shell to flake off in sheets. It was collapsing on itself, becoming more like a deflated beach ball every second. A blinding white haze of fear fell on her.  It was becoming hard for her to watch the statue crumble in a painful heap atop the pedestal.

The creature dripped loose, slimy, rotten skin on the immaculate marble as it crawled down on all fours off the Victorian pedestal, its arms as thin as rails clicked and crunched from the bones being so brittle. It struggled to drag its weak, boney body, across the smooth concrete. ‘Why is it coming closer? Can it see me?’, her brain was squirming to figure out the strangers next move, but all she could focus on was its’ shrunken jaw and her red-tinted reflection in its malicious black eyes.

 Its stared at her as if a twine rope were connecting their souls, injecting a direct line of intimidation into her. She took 2 gliding steps backward, gently placing her heels on the smooth white stone; she was still trying to figure out what had just become of the once Olympian statue she so adored. Its’ shrunken jaw, covered in shadow from the rapidly darkening atmosphere, lagged behind the gasps of air it was struggled to attain with every movement. Drowning in air, its black eyes burned with agony, beaming a message of silvery wrath toward anyone in range.

 Panting and choking, the beast was making its’ way, the marble stone skinned the pealing flesh off in the same fashion as the bronze that once covered it. One misstep caused the deathly frightened girl to fall back, she was vulnerable and this drew the hellion’s attention.   Her hands now moved in the same rhythm as the creatures but in the opposite direction, she scurried backward, kicking her legs higher than necessary in case the monster got too close. “Cruuux” “Cruuux!” ‘the little devil talks’ repeated in her head  until the brown, gravelly voice spoke again. A peach colored terror engulfed her heart, making it harder and harder to maintain the physical work required to escape the bee-line of the ravenous, crippled demon.

She fought the internal paralyzing fear for as long as she could, but she knew that the longer she crawled backward aimlessly, the quicker she would be brought to the dreary side of the marble garden, which wasn’t by any means a garden at all. There were patches of rough, broken concrete 100 feet away, she had never actually been near them but they were noticeable from a distance.
The choppy rocks started to cut her hands turning bloody hand prints into dark maroon railroad tracks for the fiend to follow.

In her mind she began to reminisce inside a tangerine light; she thought about the years when it was so pleasant to be in this eternally secluded world where she was protected by the puffy, emerald-green fog of familiarity with the statue.  Nothing could have ever prepared her for this fate, being that she never imagined it was possible for a statue to crumble in the way this one did.

Every muscle in her body was exhausted and glowing bright red. A gurgle from the beast, “cruuux!” ignited her fear once again.  That thing would have its’ way with the girl who had done nothing to offend it in the first place. “And for what reason?” She asked herself, half not expecting an answer.

Her arms finally gave out; the back of her head hit the ground with a scrapping pound. A straining murmur “cruuux!!!” escaped with every foot the frail body gained by rolling and dragging itself toward the girl.  After the 112 foot pursuit Crux’s bloody, outstretched hand finally grasped her ankle, with more force than expected. Crux lay flat against the ground, heaving itself closer to the girl, intimidating her with gargled moans and grunts, “cruuux.”

Just as Crux’s grip began to tighten around her ankle, the absence of earth under her hand rang out with a red steak between her ears. She became very aware of a warm, tan heat covering her chest and back, as if water had just saturated her already sweat stained t-shirt. She couldn’t feel her limbs, the peach tingling sensation in her chest made up her entire being in that moment. Her “shirt” was being lifted off like two clasped hands slipping past one another, the contact was fleeting without any sign of stopping; she felt terribly helpless. She weightlessly fell backwards through mid-air, the unknown fear of what was to come returned, but after what she just experienced, it didn’t disturb her much.

That must have been the fall; the ominous cliff that everyone has lurking one step behind them. It engulfed these two tragically innocent beings without warning. Now, any new thought she had about the predator were just a dwindling, flashing pin holes in her memory.

Continued in part II

Possibly the scariest story I have ever written about a demon.

This is...

Crux

Zodiac Sign

Abstractions

The Empire

This is a pretty straight forward piece I made for my roommate at FIT. 

She lives in Poland, which seems like a different planet since I have never been out of this country. FIT is the planet that we both travel to, but we will always be on separate planets. 

On the right side is the Empire state building and a telephone.

3- Teir Balance

This is a manifestation of inner balance of Soul, Body, and Mind.

Try and image yourself being completely balance and whole. From the center of your chest you can feel a pull upward through the top of your head and downward to the base of your spine.

They are intentionally a little wobbly in appearance because as centered or balanced as we may claim, there is always a little wiggle room.

Take Care

This is a pretty complex yet simple piece.

First, let me explain Synesthesia. 

Synesthesia is not a condition or a handicap, I believe it is a gift. 

To be able to see sounds, taste sights, read letters in color, etc, is a major factor in my art/life. I think it is the reason I love art so much, in MY reality, everything is art, and in that case, art is everything!

This is my first painting of Synesthetic perception of sound.

The song: Take Care-Covered by Florence and the Machine

Take a Closer Look

This was inspired by the movie Zeitgeist which is an incredible film that opened my mind to so many new ideas.

This was painted on regular paper, in the first image it's hard to see exactly what's going on because it is overlapping. That's why in the second picture when you examine it with a light coming through the back you can see the hidden messages.

Money

War

Oil

This is most obviously a political piece but it stems from the direct influence Zeitgeist had on me at the time. So, no, I'm not a political anarchist trying to expose the corruption in society by blaming the hot topic issues like so many others thrive on.

The Garden

The fountain area in the garden of MoMA.

Concrete

 This is a painting I did on a 4"x6" canvas of a view from the Highline in New York City. It was interesting to me at the time but I didn't really understand why until I painted the image.

 To me this represents looking into the window of your soul.

As you look through the archway feel it covering the sides of your head, look further into the window and feel a pressure over your heart start to open the longer you stare.

Original Picture

"Concrete"-Gorecki

About Me

Im amazed by art. I love the way it draws out your inner most thoughts and feelings with unreserved ease. Writing especially, with fiction and sci-fi there are so many avenues to walk down and learn about ones self.

I don't think that my art is necessarily that great; which leads to the double entendre in the title of this blog. "L'art de L'ame" in French means "art of the soul", but when read in English is looks like "art de lame", which is exactly how I feel about it sometimes, but it is coming from inside so it can't be all that 'lame' after all.

Enjoy!