The Show Tell Project

For Seymour's Fat Lady

Tag: design

Sunday Funnies: Friendbeasts

by fyarlgiles

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Rainbow by Stephen Quinn

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Evo Plant by Cosmic nuggets

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Dirt Road by Stephen Quinn

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Mr ET by Retrowhale

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Nice Tiger by Retrowhale

Resist Energy: Lust

by fyarlgiles

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that touch of yours is as 

dangerous as

I’d expected.

— timid hands begging to be held,

stroked,

loved

in a lightless room where

no one

can hear our thoughts and

my weakness is concealed.

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And I know that when I do

press your gentle palm  against my own  for the first time

I will feel too much to think at all.

about infidelity-

about identity-

about selfishness–

and I will have to swallow

that dripping desire

that I try to

ignore

“Restraint” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

Artwork: Self-reflection by Jenn Mann & Flux by Sarah Cannon

Art Heap: Lost Lines

by fyarlgiles

 

 Here–

there are

minds ————-lost

in the

  fairy-fizzled fog.

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Faceless

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Galaxius

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Smoke

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Spellbound

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Masquerade

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Bring Me Back

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Hereafter

Artwork by Jumpstick

Yesterday by Vesna Pesic

by fyarlgiles

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Yesterday in Red

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Yesterday in White

Pieces created for Depthcore by Vesna Pesic

Art Heap: Out of Place

by fyarlgiles

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Broccoli Hands by Sarah Cruce

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Pear Picker by Bene Rohlman

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Salt Water Grazing by Sarah Cruce

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Space Cowboy by David Delruelle

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God Bless by David Delruelle

Art Heap: Video Killed The Radio Star

by fyarlgiles

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Electric Kid Collage by Marco Koeppe

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Baptist Weenix Collage by Marco Koeppe

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The Products of Media by Filmut

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Keen by Cardboard Cities

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Really Rad by Michael Harford

Loaded Quotes: Bloody Ambition

by fyarlgiles

She danced, and was obliged to go on dancing through the dark night. The shoes bore her away over thorns and stumps till she was all torn and bleeding; she danced away over the heath to a lonely little house. Here, she knew, lived the executioner; and she tapped with her finger at the window and said:

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‘Come out, come out! I cannot come in, for I must dance.’

 And the executioner said: ‘I don’t suppose you know who I am. I strike off the heads of the wicked, and I notice that my axe is tingling to do so. “Don’t cut off my head!’ said Karen, ‘for then I could not repent of my sin. But cut off my feet with the red shoes.’

Excerpt from  ” The Red Shoes” by  Hans Christian Anderson

—————————————————————————

An enchanting woman whose feet have been hacked to bloody stumps is an image of humanity that comforts me.

Let me explain. 

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We are all complex mixtures  of beauty and horror, pain and delight, greed and charity. But there is such a cry for dichotomies in western culture, that we tend to ignore this.  It’s simple!! Pretty is pretty, and Yucky is yucky, now let’s all get ice cream sandwiches!!

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But there is no pretending when it comes to Karen.   The crude image of her perfect body sitting atop bloody mutilated legs makes her brokenness impossible to hide. And isn’t that sort of honesty liberating? Sometimes, I feel like my body is a lie I tell to anyone who is capable of seeing me. It is young, functional, it has no apparent deformities, and it conceals my self-loathing. It’s nice sometimes because I never truly feel vulnerable, but it breeds a lot insecurity. If no one sees me for what I am, how can I ever truly feel accepted?

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I think that a lot of people will say that this story is about how vanity can ruin you and blablabl..  more oppressive ideas about female sexuality professed by the catholic church… but I have always seen it as a tale about facing the good, the bad, and the bloody within yourself.

The truth isn’t simple; It is a young girl who looks gorgeous from the waste up, but is forced to hobble around on the ghosts of her own feet.

Angie

Harmless

by fyarlgiles

I am not mean

enough

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——————— or honest enough

to stew in

real

depravity.

The Faceless

by fyarlgiles

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Behind those nostrils

-those eyebrows-

-those tongues-

 are

 swirling  clouds of nothing

weighing down the wings that

free

troubled minds

“You’ll never Fly” by Angie Hoover-Hillhouse

Artwork by Johnny Greenwood

Art Heap: Images of Longing by Jesse Treece

by fyarlgiles

 

 

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There’s Treasure Everywhere

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Scraps

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Phases

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Everything Beautiful is Far Away

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Untitled 

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Pathways

Artwork by Jesse Treece