art
The best science fiction art from Vincent Di Fate, HR Giger, and beyond.
Tuesdays on the Mothership
Tuesdays on The Mothership In ancient times, the day began at sundown, as dusk and dawn are but a reflection of the other. At this moment in my life, I am enjoying the realignment with the ancient ways in all that I do. My life only sees creation and divination between visitors, the quasars and I speak much.
iiiYansa's Peridot PoulticePublished a day ago in Futurism
"Nude Descending a Staircase" by Marcel Duchamps
Marcel Duchamp (1887-1968) was one of the 20th century’s most influential artists but also one of the most puzzling. He refused to be pigeon-holed into any artistic category and rejected every convention that was current at the time during his long life as an artist. He therefore experimented with Impressionism, post-Impressionism, Fauvism and Cubism, before plunging into the anti-art world of Dada.
John WelfordPublished 28 days ago in Futurism
ROADIE COLLECTIVE
hi. we are Roadman and Daez. May we ask: how are you feeling today? how is your body below the neck. in your shoulders chest tummy legs? before we jump in, we ask you to join us in taking three deep breaths.
Roadie CollectivePublished about a month ago in Futurism
How I Discovered Magic and Decided to Become a Wizard
As a child, I was privileged enough to always have a book nearby and fortunate enough for them to be mostly science fiction or fantasy. Though I was too young to really understand the specifics, I assumed that the stories of Azimov and Clarke were and would always continue to be simply that - fiction. However, one 4th grade art project shattered my perception of not only literature but of the real world, and in exchange left me with a lifelong passion I could not bear to live without.
Eduardo Pecina, Jr.Published 2 months ago in Futurism
V_43
As a model minority, immigrant artist living in the U.S., I grew up learning to be silent, hard-working, and to put success above everything else. For the past decade, I have served as a designer - a salaryman - in corporate America, a cog powering a monolith machine. I am seen as an object, a skill set that can be used and just as quickly discarded, just like the mass-produced products that I have been a part of designing to be marketed to people around the world.
Art of The New Order of Alexandria
The New Order of Alexandria is my first novel, written in 2017. For this Post Apocalyptic Adventure; I painted a lot of art. Designing characters, locations and even some of the uniforms & clothes that the soldiers and civilians wore. In this article I will be showcasing some of the artwork I have created for this book over the years.
Joseph Roy WrightPublished 2 months ago in Futurism
Thughra
Thughra curls up into himself, warding off the morning chill. The sun hasn’t quite risen over the top of the mountains, leaving the valley in a purple haze, turning the shadows into lurking figures hiding between market stalls. A small wrinkled woman lays out prunes at the fruit stall, her hands melding into the crumpled skins and a young man carefully displays his colorful scarves of silk and linen. A pain fills Thughra’s stomach, his mother used to wear the same silk scarves, they smelt of burnt amber and frankincense, now their remains drift across the desert, the smell of smoke lingering behind, a black stain on a golden dune. He squints and shakes the thought from his head, focusing on a small beetle scampering across the dusty ground. It’s difficult to distinguish the difference between the pain of loss and the pain of hunger and he wraps his arms tighter around his ribs. The wind sneaks in through the holes of his clothes. As the sun shyly appears above the tip of the mountains, the market begins to wake up. Traders and hagglers begin to fill the streets, replacing the menacing shadows. Life returns and an energy buzzes through the air, an energy that Thughra hasn’t been able to connect with since he lost his family to the fire. He scans the crowd and is drawn to a particular figure. The thick brown cloak is unusual for these parts of the world. The figure stands with his back turned, peacefully still. If it had not been for the colourful patterned bag that whispered stories of travels and different lands Thughra would have completely missed him.
Kalinka PetkoffPublished 5 months ago in Futurism
Yestermoment
One dollar, pinched between two fingers, lowers above a single, waiting candle flame. It catches. Fire- surging and burning, eating and eating. Fingers twist, brandishing, drawing the slip of paper closer to see.
Claire GamutPublished 5 months ago in Futurism
Thughra
Thughra curls up into himself, warding off the morning chill. The sun hasn’t quite risen over the top of the mountains, leaving the valley in a purple haze, turning the shadows into lurking figures hiding between market stalls. A small wrinkled woman lays out prunes at the fruit stall, her hands melding into the crumpled skins and a young man carefully displays his colorful scarves of silk and linen. A pain fills Thughra’s stomach, his mother used to wear the same silk scarves, they smelt of burnt amber and frankincense, now their remains drift across the desert, the smell of smoke lingering behind, a black stain on a golden dune. He squints and shakes the thought from his head, focusing on a small beetle scampering across the dusty ground. It’s difficult to distinguish the difference between the pain of loss and the pain of hunger and he wraps his arms tighter around his ribs. The wind sneaks in through the holes of his clothes. As the sun shyly appears above the tip of the mountains, the market begins to wake up. Traders and hagglers begin to fill the streets, replacing the menacing shadows. Life returns and an energy buzzes through the air, an energy that Thughra hasn’t been able to connect with since he lost his family to the fire. He scans the crowd and is drawn to a particular figure. The thick brown cloak is unusual for these parts of the world. The figure stands with his back turned, peacefully still. If it had not been for the colourful patterned bag that whispered stories of travels and different lands Thughra would have completely missed him.
Kalinka PetkoffPublished 5 months ago in Futurism
Love is so heartbreaking
It was already summer in the Waridon grasslands, the rainy season was still late, the continuous strong sunshine scorched the earth, the green vegetation withered in large swaths, the wind passed, sand and dust filled the sky. Gu Jia had not eaten food and water for three days, after dusk, he struggled to get out of his cave, crawling towards the lake, in fact, he knew that the Binhe Hu dried up a month ago, but he still crawled over every few days to see, expecting a miracle to happen. Gujia is an optimistic little hedgehog.
Transmigration of a Genius
The Artist died without friends or family to bid him farewell as he passed into the other place, but it was not a sad affair. He was not alone, because until the very moment of his death, he had me. I had been with him since the very beginning, since his first notebook was filled with the fruit of our labour together. He was not the first artist I had known, but he was the one I loved best. I at least was there to hold him close as he was unbound from his mortal coil. You see, I am familiar with boundaries of all kinds, of crossings between here and there. I am an idea, a genius.
Kelsey AebiPublished 6 months ago in Futurism
Biennale of Western Balkans (BoWB) presents Art Pluriverse: A Community Science Series
BoWB, is announcing its upcoming digital programme, entitled Art Pluriverse: A Community Science Series. As the second edition of the Biennale, that was going to take place in Ioannina, Greece in October 2020, had to be postponed, the organisation sets a month of digital events, as part of its year-round programme. Art Pluriverse is the title of a community science series about intangible cultural heritage, starting in December 2020. The official website will be launched on September 17th and the programme will be open to the public on December 3rd.
