Inspiration
psychedelic pattern art: a surrealist portfolio by ⸘jason alan‽. Content Warning. AI-Generated.
welcome to the vivid unconscious, a collection exploring the intensity of the world through non-naturalistic color and abstract patterns. this portfolio is split into two distinct yet stylistically connected series: psychedelic wildlife and surreal portraiture. whether depicting the familiar silhouette of a zebra exploding with vibrant geometry, or diving in the symbolic weight of psychological burdens with the piece titled "death," my work uses vivid contrast and expressionism to illuminate the energy and unseen tensions within life. i invite you to explore this world where the familiar is constantly shifting, intensely colored, and profoundly honest.
By ⸘jason alan‽12 months ago in Art
The Talking Rooster
For centuries, villages have been known for their peaceful routines—morning sunlight, the rustling of trees, children running in open fields, and of course, the familiar sound of animals. But the small village of Noorabad became famous overnight because of something no one could have imagined: a rooster that could speak like a human. What started as a strange discovery soon turned the entire village into a place of wonder, chaos, and unexpected life lessons.
By darus sahil12 months ago in Art
The Ultimate Guide to Finding the Best Business Card Mockup. AI-Generated.
Table of Contents What is a Business Card Mockup and Why is it Essential?The Crucial Role of High-Quality Mockups in Design PresentationHow to Create a Stunning Letterpress Business Card MockupFinding a High-Quality Business Card Mockup Free ResourcePractical Tips for Using Your Mockup of Business Card DesignsFrequently Asked Questions About Business Card Mockups
By Design Hacks12 months ago in Art
The Painter of Hidden Sunrises
A reclusive painter woke before dawn to paint sunrises no one else witnessed. She hid the canvases under her bed, saying daylight did not need repeating. One morning, she found a stranger staring at one of her paintings. He had discovered it by accident and was weeping. “I didn’t know mornings could feel like forgiveness,” he said. From then on, she painted openly, sharing her work with anyone brave enough to knock on her door. Her sunrises became known not for their colors, but for the moments they helped people remember they deserved to start again.
By GoldenSpeech12 months ago in Art
The Vertigo Swirl
Introduction I wasn't sure how to do this. At first, I thought of a poem, and thought the Vertigo Swirl is a work of art, the most impressive record label I have ever seen, because of the three-dimensional effect when you see it spinning.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 12 months ago in Art
Estella Loretto:
By Brian D’Ambrosio, Estella Loretto has lived her 72 years with a sculptor’s patience, chiseling each moment slowly, shaping a life balanced between Pueblo ancestry and monumental artistic vision. Each breath, she says, is a grain of stone, a measure of time, and a spark of spirit.
By Brian D'Ambrosio 12 months ago in Art
Stare at your flaws
(P.s it’s spoken word and steam of consciousness. My style) Stare at your flaws One wrong move, Western-type shots. You can move back, run backwards, HELL EVEN CRY. Don’t stop looking. This world has come with criminals that aren’t even criminals. Call me the reaper. Call this your final breath. But it might not be if you talk like you at court. Court of death you can say. So tell me, your flaws, your regrets, your grudges you still hold. Why? To know a real man, you must know what they are hiding. Why are you hiding?Real peace is when you cleanse your body. The flowers grow from withered to beautiful orchids. The trees go cold stubborn to dancing leaves. It blooms like birth. Somebody new is born...However you're torn if that new you is better. Simple answer: yes. However, your eyes cry out in confusion as it seems so complicated. To be honest, we love the fun work, not the hard work. Who doesn't? Bills have to be paid. Or in this sense: your heart deserves to be paid in peace. So tell me what’s your deepest fear, darkest flaw, why you hold so much. The hand shakes like he saw a murder scene, His eyes screamed in need of reflection. His heart was pumping; it sounded like a kid wanting candy. But he just needed a new life. He tried to speak/it seemed like somebody who had never talked before. Then, one by one,doors opened. One broken man because one choice broke his time frame. So he put pride on his wrist. Then life got twisted and twisted. His relationship problems,money problems, and problems with God. They were all falling down like a boulder-no Indiana Jones to catch it.The new problem was…how to solve a broken man. Three words/Hope and work. You can’t be the same all your life. You have to change and not be complacent. I lower the weapon. His eyes were relieved. The man said, ”Good, I dropped the gun-because looking at myself through the mirror/I need to let go and hope for better.”
By Messaiah Dejesus12 months ago in Art
Finding my faith
First time I saw faith
By Venesha Owen12 months ago in Art
The Art of Happiness: Awakening Your Inner Light
In a quiet mountain village surrounded by whispering pines and crystal streams lived a young woman named Amina. She had everything most people longed for — a warm home, loving parents, and a promising job at the village school. Yet, deep within, she felt an emptiness she could not name. Each morning, she followed the same routine: teaching children, returning home, helping her mother, and sitting alone under the old cherry tree at dusk. The villagers saw her gentle smile and assumed she was content, but Amina often wondered, “Why do I feel incomplete when I have so much?” One evening, an old monk passed through the village. His robe was simple, his steps slow but sure, and his eyes carried the peace of someone who had seen life’s storms yet remained unshaken. He sat beneath the same cherry tree where Amina often rested. Curious, she approached him. “Master,” she said softly, “how does one find happiness? I pray, I work, I help others, but still I feel a void.” The monk smiled. “Child, happiness is not something to be found. It is something you awaken within yourself.” Amina frowned slightly. “Awaken? But how?” He pointed toward the glowing sunset. “Do you see how the sun disappears, yet leaves behind light in the sky? That is what true happiness is — not constant brightness, but an inner glow that remains even when the world grows dark.” Amina pondered his words. “Then how can I awaken this light?” The monk closed his eyes. “Through three doors — awareness, gratitude, and purpose. Open them, and you will find your peace.” That night, Amina could not sleep. The monk’s words echoed in her mind. The next morning, she decided to open the first door — awareness. She began her day by truly noticing the world around her. The way the sunlight filtered through her window, the sound of the children’s laughter at school, the rhythm of her own heartbeat. She realized that she had been living on autopilot — doing, not being. When she started paying attention, even ordinary moments shimmered with quiet beauty. As days passed, she opened the second door — gratitude. Amina started a small notebook where she wrote three things she was thankful for each night. Some days it was as simple as “the taste of warm bread” or “a kind smile from a stranger.” Slowly, her perspective shifted. She began to see how life was constantly offering her small gifts that she had once overlooked. She noticed how her students’ curiosity brightened her day, how her mother’s humming filled their home with peace, and how the scent of rain on dry earth made her heart feel alive. Gratitude, she realized, was not about having everything — it was about seeing everything you already have. Finally came the third door — purpose. Amina thought deeply about her life. “Why am I here? What can I give to the world?” One afternoon, she saw a little boy sitting outside the school, crying. His parents were poor and couldn’t afford books. Amina comforted him and offered him her own spare notebooks. When she saw the spark in his eyes as he began to learn again, she felt something shift within her — a sense of quiet fulfillment she had never known before. She began dedicating extra hours to teach children from poor families. Her evenings became busier, but her heart felt lighter. She realized that happiness wasn’t about receiving, but giving — sharing light instead of searching for it. Months later, the monk returned to the village. Amina ran to meet him, her eyes shining brighter than ever. “Master,” she said joyfully, “I opened the doors you spoke of — awareness, gratitude, and purpose. My life hasn’t changed much from the outside, but inside, I feel like a different person.” The monk nodded, smiling. “Then you have understood the true art of happiness. The world still holds sorrow, and you will still face storms. But when your light burns within, no darkness can truly defeat you.” He handed her a small clay lamp. “Keep this,” he said. “Let it remind you that the flame of happiness lives in your heart — and it only fades when you forget to tend it.” That night, Amina placed the lamp by her window and watched its flame dance gently in the breeze. She realized that happiness wasn’t a place to reach, but a journey of awakening — one that began the moment she stopped chasing and started living. From then on, she no longer sat under the cherry tree with questions. She sat there in peace, grateful for the breath in her lungs, the love around her, and the purpose guiding her days. The world hadn’t changed — but her way of seeing it had. And so, beneath the same sky, she found what she had been seeking all along — the radiant, unshakable joy within. Moral: Happiness is not discovered in the world outside, but awakened within through awareness, gratitude, and purpose. When you learn to see, feel, and live with an open heart, every moment becomes a masterpiece of joy.
By Naimat Ullahabout a year ago in Art
The Child Who Painted Time
In a forgotten corner of an aging orphanage near Prague, a quiet ten-year-old girl named Elara Vance spent her days painting. She spoke little, but her art spoke for her vibrant, surreal, and hauntingly precise. The caretakers thought her gift was simply the result of too many nights spent alone with her imagination. That was until one morning, she painted a fire that hadn’t yet happened.
By Farooq Hashmiabout a year ago in Art
