art
The best relationship art depicts the highs and lows of the authentic couple.
Lost hobbies,- the missing link?
Close your eyes and remember the last time you sang, the last time you tried to create a recipe from scratch, the last time you decorated your home, the last time you doodled. I was thinking of something I usually ask of my friends (yeah, I'm that person). I ask them to start creating. Whatever pops first into their brilliant mind, that's where some spare energy asks to be directed. I like to use the aforementioned question.
By Miha Ela B.5 years ago in Humans
Black Excellence
Sometimes you meet a person, and they change your entire life without even realizing it. That is what I feel like meeting Toni has done for me. I met Toni Smalls when we were both wide eyed sixteen-year old’s with nothing but hope and inspiration in our pockets. Within the last six years, I have watched Toni grow into not only the most magnificent artist, but also the best person I know. I fully believe that they are going to change the art world around us. The reason I know this is because Toni does not let anything stop them. Regardless of their mental health or their vices, they have an unwavering determination to give themself everything that they deserve.
By Paige Ross-Verneau5 years ago in Humans
Michaela Coel
Born and raised in London, U.K. to Ghanaian parents and brought up by her mother, Michaela Coel is a British actress, singer, screenwriter, director and producer. She began her career doing open mic poetry in theatres around London. There she discovered her passion for theatre and in 2009 she enrolled in the summer school program at the Talawa Theatre Company. That same year she released her first ever music album entitled ‘fixing barbie’. She also obtained a 2.1 in English at University before enrolling at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama, where she was awarded the Laurence Olivier bursary, graduating in 2012.
By Jennifer Kingsley5 years ago in Humans
Interview with Georgia O'Keeffe. (Or regarding art).
Interview with Georgia O'Keeffe. (Or regarding art). The authenticity of various characters, could be, what most attracts my attention, so joyful beings that the circumstances that lead their existence provoke curious thoughts and incredible ideas; from geniuses, scientists, artists of various kinds, perhaps teachers or even uneducated beings. For this reason, I have decided to venture to the state of New Mexico, and thus, visit a famous artist who has more than caught my attention, the aforementioned person is the celebrated Georgia O'Keeffe, whom maintains a warm home in a small town called "Abiquiú". I should comment that the proportions and figures of such a place have an incomparable beauty, differentiating the banality and frivolity of the neighboring cities, as if such mountains surpassed the artificial constructions with a magnificent factor of natural bestiality. Last week, I questioned the mentioned character on the phone to find out if it would be appropriate for me to pay her a visit, although this idea was not a problem due to the warmth of this person's personality, however, I could see that her enthusiasm was not strictly aimed at the excitement of the event.
By Richard Wilcox5 years ago in Humans
The Oriental Market
There were no real signs in the oriental market. They were never printed on thick cardstock and inserted in a neat metal frame, or even typed up and taped to a shelf. It could almost always be assumed that any produce sign had been made by ripping apart some random cardboard box nearby and scribbling Chinese and an English translation on it in thick sharpie.
By MarySandra Do5 years ago in Humans
The Vagabond’s Song
“Been talked out out loud, for millennia...” “Babe I’ll be, blinded by enemies...” The mysterious traveler sings quietly to herself “it’s the underground...” She rounds a corner onto an antiquated canal bridge, polka dot umbrella swinging in one hand, little black book tucked under the other.
By Stanzi Hope Wellington5 years ago in Humans
The Misrepresentation of a Wild Thing
The man painted himself in all the wrong colours. He drowned his thoughts in whiskey and found his mirky likeness in the bottom of a glass. He got in quarrels and woke in foggy mornings, with a mirror of black and blue remember me bye’s, hiding his true features behind their inky stains. He rarely bathed, sitting in a bath seemed like a rotten thing to him, his black hair course and matted against his skin like some unwanted dog, though this man had house and home. Apathy soaked the room, drenching into the curtains and the walls, staining their colours grey. That same shade dripped its colours into the foundations of the house in tiny little percussions, like rain that causes the wood to rot and mellow, so that as he walked across the floorboards it fawned beneath his weight and he heard those same doubts creaking back at him, as if they were a real thing, a noise of the world and not a product of his own imagining. You see our man had fallen into the worst of sicknesses, the belief that he was a worthless thing.
By Marius Van Den Berg5 years ago in Humans
