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.
Turquoise Cups
The bigger your TV upgrade, the further you sit from the it…. why does it take a few thousand dollars to realize that your just moving your seat backwards to adjust to the size? Its funny, when people live in a tiny area, they really see what’s going on right in front of them, they see how much garbage they make, they realize how much plastic they use, how much mud is tracked in, everything a parent would dream their kid would notice if they had one of their wishes granted. It’s easier to see your habits, and get used to maximizing your organizational skills to the greatest potential.
Noel Chrisjohn BensonPublished 3 years ago in PsycheThe Meaning of Color
There is meaning in color, like red, for instance. Red could be coded or described as love, romance, anger, aggression, or even fever in some cases.
L.A. Moore - NashPublished 3 years ago in PsycheDaily Art History, Matthew Wong's Evocative Work
Today I'll be introducing you to "A Dream", an oil painting by Matthew Wong. This piece was first shown in his solo exhibition "Blue", held by Karma shortly after he committed suicide in 2019.
Art for a Healthy Mind
Why Is Art Important? About five years ago, I was going through a nasty depression (again). I am self-aware enough to recognize it and attempt to pull myself out. I picked up a pencil and tried drawing for the first time as an adult. I quickly learned that I wasn't very talented. There was a lot of trial and error. I went through a lot of erasers and paper. But I didn't give up. I drew every day. I slowly improved. More importantly, my self-confidence improved greatly as well as my self-esteem. Eventually, I started drawing on canvas. Then from there, I started painting with acrylic paint. I became so confident in my improvement that I started sharing my art with other people and actually sold a few pieces.
Dulcy WarfieldPublished 3 years ago in PsycheScarface
When you think of body art, you might be drawn to think about elaborate tattoos wrapping around your arm, a dragon, a tribal pattern, a random pink dinosaur (I actually saw someone with a tattoo of a pink brontosaurus, I was like WTF! But hey, each to their own). In essence the body in which we are born in, is an empty canvas, ready and perfectly made for you to accessorize however you so choose to. You could compliment it with those gold bangles, or maybe a noise ring (which I find quite attractive), you can get quirky and go all out.
My Socially Acceptable Self Harm.
When I was 14, I cut myself for the first time. I felt the hurt of childhood trauma. I wanted control over my own pain and the feeling of the blade gave that to me.
Moon ChildPublished 4 years ago in PsychePurple Hibiscus
Sitting in the driver’s seat of my silver Suzuki SX4, parked in our closed garage, lights out. Pitch black. At thirty-five years of life, my Suzuki is the only thing I have to show for any accomplishment. More tears filled my eyes, I did not even earn or buy this car, it was a gift from my father. Granted the gift came from a time I was doing well for myself and he wanted to help ensure I was safe when I was driving for work. Yet, it was in my name and mine alone. I gave up everything to get married and take a chance on a new direction. Thus, it felt right that it would be the only place fitting to end it all. In my lap sat my black 9mm Smith and Weston compact handgun. “This is it,” I thought to myself, “this time it really will be my end, no more changing my mind, just let go.” But, I am terrified. I do not want to, rather I feel I have to unburden those around me. I feel useless.
Dirty Laundry
If I wanted to get technical, I’d specify in great, gory detail how the tattooing process is essentially a physical trauma by nature. A needle piercing delicate flesh thousands upon thousands of times, literally pounding foreign ink into an unknowing body for what could be hours on end? That's trauma. It's why so many pass out or vomit (or both) after spending some amount of time in the chair. And after all that self-induced trauma, you come out the other end scarred with this masterpiece, minimal or grand, and re-brand it artful body modification for the world to admire. It is what it is and if you're not willing to go through that kind of pain, you just don't want it enough.
Mary SlatteryPublished 4 years ago in PsycheThe Story of the Angry Sushi Story
I want today tell you guys a story of one of my tattoos. Perhaps the most meaningful one and one that I wear with pride. At the moment I have a gallery of weird collection of tattoos, some of the more key players being a cigarette smoking flamingo on a skateboard, the disembodied head of a fire breathing rooster, and of course the Sushi one.
Ellis L GrimshawPublished 4 years ago in PsycheHow Art Therapy Is Used to Help People Heal
The use of artistic methods to treat psychological disorders and enhance psychological state is understood as art therapy. It may surprise you to find out that artists are often an efficient tool in psychological state treatment. What could art possibly need to do with psychotherapy? As an expressive medium, art is often wont to help clients communicate, overcome stress, and explore different aspects of their personalities.
Stanley RenPublished 4 years ago in Psycheunrecognizable faces
Last night, I dreamed of unrecognizable faces, but with a familiarity of having already known them. Could it be, that these were past and/or future friends? Companions? Was this a premonition of who I was to meet or have met again to assist in figuring out what internal work needs to be done and in turn to assist others as well? Do people need help in such things? Do I need help, emotionally even spiritually?
Growth and Decay are One and the Same
At one point in my life, all my arms carried were scars leftover from wars lost against myself. For many years, my arms were shadows of shame always hanging by my side, holding onto memories from the darkest time of my life. The first time I ever addressed the scars I was terrified, but I swallowed my pain to help hold the hand of someone needing my strength. I told this person for six years it was me and a blade sharing secret exchanges behind locked doors or bathroom stalls. For six years it was hoodies and long sleeves in 90 degrees St. Louis heat. I still remember the look on his face when he said he had noticed the stars but was too scared to ask because he didn't know what memories would rip open. The truth is, we all walk around with scars on our bodies, we pack up our trials and tribualations and haul them everywhere with us. Some wear their scars like medals of honor while others tuck them away like symbols of shame. Me? For a long time, I was the latter; until I got older enough to wonder what good came out the time spent in agony.