art

Art of an introspective nature; a look at artwork that reveals the artist's psyche and comments on the inner workings of a chaotic mind.

The Moon's Confession
Elias couldn't sleep. Again. The mattress felt like a griddle beneath him, even with the windows cracked. It wasn’t the heat, not really. It was the hum, a low, constant buzz in his skull, the kind that meant everything was wrong, always wrong. He pushed himself up, swung his legs over the side of the bed. The floorboards creaked under his bare feet, a familiar complaint in the dead quiet of the house. Two-fifteen AM, the digital clock glowed red, judging him.
By HAADI25 days ago in Psyche
The Last Line Out
The rain came down in sheets, a cold, miserable curtain drawing across the grimy windows of the station. Arthur stood on the platform, the collar of his tweed jacket pulled high, tasting metal and damp in the air. His satchel, heavy with its meager contents, dug into his shoulder. The digital clock above the deserted ticket booth flickered, 01:17. Late. Always late. The track ahead disappeared into the sodden dark, a black ribbon stretching toward… he didn't even know. That was the point. No destination on the ticket, just a one-way fare to anywhere but here.
By HAADI27 days ago in Psyche
The Weight of Quiet
John tossed again, the sheets tangled around his legs like a net. Two-thirty. The digital glow of the alarm clock burned a hole in the stale air of the bedroom. Sarah was a still lump beside him, her breathing shallow, even. He knew she was probably faking sleep, just like he was faking a future where everything was fine. He knew because a week ago, he’d been the lump, pretending the world outside his eyelids didn’t exist, didn’t contain the cold, hard lump of wrongness that had settled in his gut.
By HAADI28 days ago in Psyche
The Reverse Tick
Mr. Elias Thorne’s classroom always smelled of chalk dust and resignation. He was a history teacher, fifty-six years old, and had the kind of slump in his shoulders that suggested the weight of all recorded human folly rested squarely there. The fluorescent lights hummed a low, constant complaint above his head. His tweed jacket, a permanent fixture, had frayed cuffs that seemed to unravel with each passing year, much like his own enthusiasm.
By HAADI29 days ago in Psyche
The Quiet Power of Liminal Spaces: How Threshold Moments Shape the Psyche. AI-Generated.
Liminal spaces—moments, states, or environments where we stand between what was and what will be—have long fascinated psychologists, anthropologists, and storytellers alike. They occupy the hazy middle ground between known and unknown, certainty and ambiguity, identity and transformation. In the realm of psychology, liminality falls under the broader category of existential and developmental psychology, but it is a striking subcategory in its own right, touching on identity formation, emotional resilience, and the way we process change throughout our lives.
By Kyle Butlerabout a month ago in Psyche
When Color Shapes Our Feelings: The Story Behind 2026’s
Color has a quiet way of reaching into our lives. It slips into the background of our mornings, our memories and the small choices we make without noticing. Every year, one shade seems to rise above the rest, carrying pieces of our shared hopes and fears. The Pantone Color of the Year 2026 invites us to sit with a feeling we often ignore. It asks what comfort, longing and steady warmth really look like. Before we name the color, it helps to understand why a single shade can resonate with millions. It is not about trends or prediction. It is about noticing what we crave as people and what this specific tone reflects about our moment in time.
By Muqadas khanabout a month ago in Psyche
The Prototype That Wouldn't Work. AI-Generated.
Featured Image Prompt A cluttered garage workshop at night, with blueprints and failed prototype parts scattered across a workbench, a single desk lamp creating a pool of warm light, tools hanging on pegboards, a half-assembled robot arm in the foreground, and through a small window the dark silhouette of a corporate office building glowing in the distance.
By The 9x Fawdiabout a month ago in Psyche
Emotions
Today, I have a new outlook on my writers block. I heard something yesterday that said "those who are angry, seem to have the biggest creative blocks."
By Tanya Leiabout a month ago in Psyche
People Who Love Silence Are Often the Most Intelligent, Psychologists Say
There’s a stereotype that the quiet kid in the corner is awkward, shy, or hiding something — but psychologists and personality researchers have a different take: people who crave silence often do so because their minds are busy, deep, and efficient. Loving silence doesn’t automatically make you a genius, but a preference for calm environments commonly lines up with cognitive traits that support creativity, concentration, and reflective thinking.
By Mustafa2 months ago in Psyche
The ability to remain silent in a noisy world
Today's world seems full of noise—people talking, cars moving, screens buzzing, thoughts swirling. Everywhere there's a rush, competition, comparison, and the pressure of expectations. But amidst all this, there's a skill that few people learn: the skill of remaining silent. This skill isn't simple; it comes from within—from understanding, calmness, and patience.
By Sohail Ahmad2 months ago in Psyche
Journey of Thoughts
This is a personal experience and reflection that how our thoughts determine us that how the moments of confusion are clarified from pain to peace.
By Sohail Ahmad2 months ago in Psyche
The Loud Minority and the Manufactured Narrative
When President Trump appeared at the Washington Commanders versus Detroit Lions game, the media wasted no time turning it into a national spectacle. Headlines shouted that America had booed its own president, declaring it proof that the country was ashamed of its leader. Clips of jeering crowds were shared endlessly, accompanied by commentary claiming that even America’s favorite sport had rejected him.
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast2 months ago in Psyche