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Art for Art's sake not, for Pete's Sake

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Author Topic: Art for Art's sake not, for Pete's Sake  (Read 12014 times)
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unknown
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« Reply #225 on: April 17, 2007, 06:38:16 pm »

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"There exists an agent, which is natural and divine, material and spiritual, a universal plastic mediator, a common receptical of the fluid vibrations of motion and the images of forms, a fluid, and a force, which can be called the Imagination of Nature..."
Elphias Levi
Jill Elvgren
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« Reply #226 on: April 17, 2007, 08:41:42 pm »



Nice work, Unknown!  I especially liked this one.  How did you do it, is it done from a photograph..?
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Desiree
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« Reply #227 on: April 17, 2007, 10:04:06 pm »

Yeah, cool stuff.

I don't remember if you were ever around to meet my pal Nekozuki at the forum, Unknown, but she is an artist, too.  I have been trying to find her to get her to join the forum, but so far, we haven't connected yet!

You guys could compare notes.
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unknown
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« Reply #228 on: April 17, 2007, 10:37:31 pm »



Hi Jill


I am glad you liked it.

Yes, the girl splashing blood was done from a photograph.
« Last Edit: April 18, 2007, 06:50:20 am by unknown » Report Spam   Logged

"There exists an agent, which is natural and divine, material and spiritual, a universal plastic mediator, a common receptical of the fluid vibrations of motion and the images of forms, a fluid, and a force, which can be called the Imagination of Nature..."
Elphias Levi
unknown
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« Reply #229 on: April 17, 2007, 10:39:45 pm »



Thanks Desiree

That would be cool, I remember the name...
« Last Edit: April 18, 2007, 06:53:26 am by unknown » Report Spam   Logged

"There exists an agent, which is natural and divine, material and spiritual, a universal plastic mediator, a common receptical of the fluid vibrations of motion and the images of forms, a fluid, and a force, which can be called the Imagination of Nature..."
Elphias Levi
Stacy Dohm
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« Reply #230 on: April 21, 2007, 01:20:57 am »



NEVERMORE




Edgar Allan Poe
The Raven
[First published in 1845]


  Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
   
 
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"All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream." - Edgar Allen Poe
unknown
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« Reply #231 on: April 21, 2007, 04:11:12 am »

Hi Stacy

Thanks for posting "The Raven," so cool...
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"There exists an agent, which is natural and divine, material and spiritual, a universal plastic mediator, a common receptical of the fluid vibrations of motion and the images of forms, a fluid, and a force, which can be called the Imagination of Nature..."
Elphias Levi
Jennifer O'Dell
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« Reply #232 on: April 25, 2007, 02:57:14 am »

No more art..?
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unknown
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« Reply #233 on: April 25, 2007, 04:19:40 am »

Hi Jennifer

I am working on some new stuff, I'll have some more soon.
« Last Edit: April 27, 2007, 08:11:12 pm by unknown » Report Spam   Logged

"There exists an agent, which is natural and divine, material and spiritual, a universal plastic mediator, a common receptical of the fluid vibrations of motion and the images of forms, a fluid, and a force, which can be called the Imagination of Nature..."
Elphias Levi
Pagan
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« Reply #234 on: April 28, 2007, 02:02:59 am »



No, if I was all about showing off body parts that I'd just finished shaving, my pants would be off.  Smiley

With your figure I thought a little more leg would've been cool, be it a skirt or shorts.  Smiley

But go with what you're comfortable with.


Well, gee, sweetie, here is one with a little more leg:



Christ, I could get nailed in this place if I wanted to!!!
« Last Edit: April 28, 2007, 02:12:59 am by Pagan » Report Spam   Logged

╔╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╪╗
☼The Pagan ☼
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Majeston
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« Reply #235 on: April 28, 2007, 10:33:56 am »

personally,  I liked the one with the Boa.

Somehow Pag,  that cutsy little pose doesn't seem to match your online

personality.  Maybe something more like the bad girl Susan Lucci, what's her name Erica?  from that tv series

where she was nominated about 20 times for an academy award and never won.  Maybe you could get

together with Unk and he could draw a characature with flames coming out of your mouth and some black leather and whips.



 Grin Grin Grin
« Last Edit: April 30, 2007, 09:51:05 am by Majeston » Report Spam   Logged

"melody has power a whole world to transform."
Forever, music will remain the universal language of men, angels, and spirits.
Harmony is the speech of Havona.

http://mercy.urantia.org/papers/paper44.html
Trevor Proffitt
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« Reply #236 on: April 30, 2007, 05:25:27 am »

Nice pick, Pag, got any **** ones?   Wink
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Volitzer
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« Reply #237 on: May 01, 2007, 02:57:40 pm »

This looks like a high school photo, are you 16 or 17 here??
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Zodiac
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« Reply #238 on: May 04, 2007, 01:04:24 am »

Yeah, I picture her more in black leather with those hip high boots (with stilettos).

By the way, I like this bat, Unknown:

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unknown
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« Reply #239 on: May 04, 2007, 01:58:02 am »

the bat's, cool
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"There exists an agent, which is natural and divine, material and spiritual, a universal plastic mediator, a common receptical of the fluid vibrations of motion and the images of forms, a fluid, and a force, which can be called the Imagination of Nature..."
Elphias Levi
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