Mittens Got Claws (For Creative Tuesdays)

This week at Creative Tuesdays the theme is Mittens.  Honestly, I had no idea what I would do this week.  To be perfectly honest, I haven't had mittens since I was three or four.  I hated them.  I need my fingers to be free. I guess I made big stinks all the time, so my mother switched my over to gloves right away, and that's all I've ever had ever since.  I obviously know what mittens are and what they look like, so I started by trying to trace my hands, and it looked like a big blob, so I had to go and add the fingers.  Then I saw an old Andy Warhol painting, which as it's own, I didn't think much of it, but then, I also saw U2's Pop cover and it was similar in a way, so i thought, ok, I'll do something like that.

For the first few of these I just had the hands.  But I wanted to get the comic book strip feel in here, which, to me, meant to illustrate an advancement of the frame. So I added some movement, and somewhere in there I guess I was think about wolverine, because somehow claws seemed to pop out of the hands.  So, anyway, that's my backstory for this multi-faceted inspired piece.  

Definitely stop over to Creative Tuesdays and check out all the terrific art that is shared there.  You'll enjoy it.

The Cycles of History. (Forming, Adapting, Revolutions, Alterations)

1000 years ago

750 years ago

475 years ago

250 years ago

100 years ago

The Current Timeline

100 years projected

250 years projected

475 years projected

750 years projected

1000 years projected

Time shifts.  Beliefs change.  Societies bend in manners that are from the borderline brutally obscene, to the answered timelines of prayer.

All of our accomplishments, all of our philosophical renderings, are, at times, heightened, only to eventually crumble.

Our attitudes, our systems, our perceptions, interpretations, ability to adapt to undue circumstances, fully blossom as they die, and die as they bloom.

The inevitability of time is as abstract as any.  Yet, the incongruity of it all, is how, if you live in one of these segmenting factions of time, you are able to bear witness to the evolution or devolution, as it is taking place, as it has occurred, and…

While you may see the possibility in tomorrow, while you may be enlightened to believe in mankind's ability to adapt and grow, you must also understand that mankind certainly has it's flaws, and the negation of your expectations are just as likely as the harmony in which your mind so poignantly displays.

Their are, as is the case right now, a bleakness in the air, a devastating wind that impales our composure, decimates our ability to motivate and/or predict a future that has overcome the bane of the present day…

Yet…what has happened will come again and what will come again has happened…herein, one can reflect upon the history of time itself…where for every year of blight, there are years of prosperity…at such times, a being existing in such an era, may never foresee the alteration that shall take place and then again and again….yet, this is the case…and it works in times of positive or negative connotations

Seeing we are where we are, this reality, while keeping in mind that cycles can be broken, it is still, enough to have faith and hope that a positive future will rise once more…

And one must never forget…in spite of the shadows that hinder mobility, we as a united people, exist in a time where creativity is at its most functional, where art, is the language we can use to break free the constraints of negative domains and insure against the rapid decline of the positive realm.

Stop on over to the NWCU and take part in, or simply bear witness to, this week's Wednesday Wake Up Call.  It deals with History. Our history, whether we choose to observe, to document, to paint, to pen, it matters not, as long as we open ourselves to a deeper understanding of what has and is currently taking place.  

With some well-placed quotes and an exercise in both History and Philosophy, this exercise has the makings for a truly unique breed of prompt.  I can't wait to examine all the creative possibilities that will certainly be expected from such a hotbed for creativity as is always found within the pages of the NWCU 

Dust Drawn Curtain Call/ A Tempest O'er Urban Rush

The Various Shades Of Relationally Based Background Noise

First, a grey cold crystal base was born

An aqua sky then peaked, yet the shadows quickly grew a dark form

The Sky knew it must flood the crackled dark below, in order for new life to grow

But when the darkness seemed to fade, a dust storm stole the sky

Upon the clearing, a new vision formed, dark red offset by florescent life

As time grew though, the sky came under distant control

All sight fell deranged, distorted from the many stages of the one

To which mankind knew not what to do, so he caged them all, as he's been known to  do

Squared Roots

Fresh Starts?

From a literal standpoint, fresh starts and new beginnings do not, nor cannot exist.  Everything you had previously experienced, all the things you’ve done, can be forgotten, yet never expunged.  The journey is never over, there can only be chapters and tracks.  Yet with brand new words upon untarnished page, each syllable commencing was forged from some other time.  All knowledge you’ve acquired, all languages you’ve learned, all the contextual applications and the transposition that’s occurred, each of these and all of them, will forever lure you’re mind back to infancy again.  In such times of happenstance, perhaps through rolling blackouts, dreams or simply glimmer lasting mere seconds, counted by hand but never reaching thumb, a connection occurs, linking the person you are now, or the one you are trying to become, with the abandoned persona you’ve left, in search of another one.

All shapes have lines, whether straight or curved.  Some hang open, without a second touching it’s ends.  Others bend and twist again and again, abutting other lines and more.  Simple lines dictate nothing more than what a line appears in form.  Yet when two lines meet, perhaps with an angle between, slightly touching at endpoints, only to expand the distance as horizons wend, together they create something larger than what they were as ones.  If four are scattered about the floor, a mess could be seen or possibilities to explore.  Bend the rigidness or a line, a round shape it turns out to be.  In this new format it can enter spaces previously reserved for two or three.  Connect to another of its kind, a circle it may be seen.  But in the end there’s only one, the line it used to be, laying dormant, making plots and ploys subconsciously, affecting the shape you see that’s made.

And so, like the circle, we return to beginnings.  While change is always admirable and innovative design quite essential, the past cannot be simply forgotten or buried as it’s weight will return at some point later, reminding you who you used to be.  So fresh cannot be concrete, as at someplace, the past forms the basis for all you’ve built upon and the strength of which, is the place where all futures call its present home.