Fiction
Garbage-man
I grew up to be a garbage-man. I don’t love what I do yet I feel like it was my calling. I feel like taking out the trash and cleaning the streets was the reason I was born. My mother Prudence was a stern schoolteacher and taught me how to read and write. She tried to get me to understand mathematics and science and other subjects I just couldn’t quite grasp.
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Art
Crying in Versace Again🥹. Content Warning.
Dawn of The Pride parade Brenda, Sat at My New Country Styled Polished Brass Colored Countertop in my Big uptown Kitchen…Drinking Milk out of a Clean Beer mug, I only used to make large Strawberry milkshakes...
By HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)3 years ago in Art
Remember, Remember, 1999 in November
Newsagent Jo The morning clung to her in drizzles. She travelled through it, toward the city, barely there, hidden within a cloak of silence. A waft of a bus pass to a concrete gaze followed by a conscientious focus on avoiding everybody else's. Head down, through the back streets, she waddled and lolloped, winding between the strewn remains of last night's large nights, a postmodern archaeology beneath which the city's skin of tarmac and loose tooth cobbles lay stoic, their battle against nature's persistent uprising and humanity's relentless footprint wearing them thin.
By Caroline Jane3 years ago in Art
Brushstrokes & Pixels
Today, as an artist immersed in the realm of visual expression, I find myself reflecting on the fascinating intersection of brushstrokes and pixels. In an era dominated by technology and digital advancements, the traditional art of painting has undergone a metamorphosis, merging with the digital medium to create captivating works that beautifully capture the essence of beauty. The fusion of brushstrokes and digital pixels has opened new realms of creativity.
By Amna Chaudry3 years ago in Art
Hanging Out
By noon it was already one hundred degrees. It was expected to reach 112o in the next couple of hours. Racine needed to do something for her children. Ever since she was a kit, she’d been aware of the human encroachment. The homes and concrete only contributed to the oppressive heat. Water was scarce. The food in the garbage cans and compost bins used to be plentiful until locks were placed on them, making access to their contents impossible.
By Mindy Reed3 years ago in Art
Crying In Versace Fabrics❤️🔥📝. Content Warning.
Heartbreaks & Art of Fashion It all started out so hazy, as clear as the picture shows I Still get a blur, late August On my Balcony in my Versace Robe there I sat, comfortable and snuggled on my lazy boy Patio furniture... Swiping pic after pic thinking out loud “Is this a joke” But, Reality never lets you think it’s a joke! I quietly spoke to myself… hmm something about the Moon That Warm Night. Something Didn’t Feel Right.
By HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)3 years ago in Art
Lonely Boy and the Village: A Beautiful Moral Story
In a small village nestled amidst picturesque hills, there once lived a lonely boy who craved companionship and happiness. This is the enchanting tale of the lonely boy and the village, a story that teaches us valuable lessons about friendship, kindness, and the transformative power of love.
By It's Gowtham3 years ago in Art
Painted Prose
"Painted Prose" is a term that combines elements of visual art and written language. It refers to a style of writing that uses vivid and descriptive language to create vivid mental images and evoke emotions, much like a painter would use colors and brushstrokes to create a visual composition.
By Waqas Ashraf3 years ago in Art
Circe Invidiosa
Introduction. The image is of Circe, a figure from Greek mythology, who appears in Homer's Odyssey. This painting shows a scene not from the Odyssey, but from Ovid's Metamorphoses. A jealous Circe throws a magic potion into the well, where her rival in love Scylla is going to bathe.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 3 years ago in Art
