Art, Inspiration

Dare to dream…

In the last few weeks I’ve decided to give my blog more visual content such as videos and art. I love writing, although, it’s always handy to get a different source of inspiration for writers and artists alike.ย  ๐Ÿ˜‰

This morning after my morning thrust of coffee ignited my synapses, I flipped open my laptop and flicked through a swarm of tweets. An image caught my attention. Not just caught it, but engrossed me. My artistic brain started tripping…and time slowed down. I admit I’m a natural romantic and have a weakness for the fantasy world. A severe one. Mould those two together and…the inner artist starts to swoon.

We should all learn to dream a little. Put down the cellphone and let your creative mind slowly seduce you. Go have a look at these images below. If you want to learn more about this artist, go check out her Deviant Art account here: http://lanatustich.deviantart.com/ย  ๐Ÿ˜€

 

a_call_for_a_flight_48_x_36_s_by_yantotzkie-d8lm8vn

 

alone_in_the_sea_by_lanatustich-d9iys47

butterfly_garden_by_lanatustich-d9ev2vg

 

christmas_tree_or_something_strange_by_lanatustich-d9jfxa2

 

d_r_e_a_m_c_a_t_c_h_e_r_by_lanatustich-d9rlyo0

 

forgotten_toy_by_lanatustich-d9rw9kq

 

perfect_flower_by_lanatustich-d9h3cz1

 

personal_world_by_lanatustich-d9sukb6

 

psychology_by_lanatustich-d9rbwfz

 

rose_by_lanatustich-d9fatp3

 

stardust_by_lanatustich-d9tj9bh

 

sunset_by_lanatustich-d987zy4

 

the_chair_by_lanatustich-d9jfhbs

 

the_hours_by_lanatustich-d9s75vl

 

to_be_continued__by_lanatustich-d9rrctv

 

to_the_light_by_lanatustich-d9t5s35

 

PhilosopherPoet

Standard
poetry

Fumbling

he arrives at the station. coins spill out of his pockets in the same way his spaghetti did last night. well, it was writhing in the pot like angry Medusa.

today the Lego’s in his head slipped away. it happened to be the important bricks that were missing.

he wishes for the days when he’d lie under the autumn trees with his army of friends. they read poetry until it soaks into their throats and sunlight digs through clouds of marijuana, it hangs in the air like dough. her could still smell Jennifer, see her laughter and feel her wild tattoos spilling over him. t-shirts were an array of metal bands. 21st century postage stamps, if you had heard the sweet ferocity you’d understand their journey. but thatโ€™s not what they spoke about…

beer cans spread in between the jokes they injected and gestures narrating the wind. while getting jostled with the cattle on the bus, he closed his eyes just for a second, and could feel himself there again. he could feel laughter tickle his feet and see the bronze ghost dancing in the bottle of brandy.

memories are the elixir of life. they remind us that there is something more to this muddy mayhem we collect under our shoes. if you behind to close your eyes long enough, you will learn to listen to the strumming of your story. its buried somewhere in your head. its like finding that creased letter you’ve lost for years. you scan the words and the image gets etched in your head.

…then there was that woman the other day she showed me a smile she had tucked away from the rain. it was just for 5 seconds,that was all i needed.

Standard
poetry, Uncategorized

beginning

his feet pump
with the weight of words
muscles in his voice
ignite and imbue
the asphalt

his face fidgets
in the creases of the wind
yet his eyes
remain resolute
through the old fog

his mischief wades
down the street
a scarf embraces him
like the soft pulse
of a mothers arm
whose embryo voice
whispers and says

– today you’ll be the
gentleman that
echoes empathy from
the folds of his heart

 

 

PhilosopherPoet

Standard
poetry

drifting

two warm bodies pulse
into the black night
two brains
shimmer in between veins
of streetlamps

tonight he straddles
the fuel tank
underneath its engine
gurgles and mutters
like an actor
lost in monologue

they pour onto the freeway
four eyes pump and ignite
with ecstasy
the road stretches
like a careful corpuscle
headlights and cabins of steel
shuttle past them

her arms are woven into him
he feels stronger when he rides – she says
they share a heart
they share the air
crawling through the arteries of their egos
and slowly it will coagulate
into the depths of their minds

when it’s over the purr of a heart
continues through chapters
of slumber
two chests rise and fall to
the rhythm of dreams

By Kalen Bloodstone

By Kalen Bloodstone (Click on the image to go to Kalen’s DeviantArt profile!)

PhilosopherPoet

Standard
Film

Seize the moment, don’t worry about your hair

Some say fate is beyond our command, but I know better. Our destiny is within us.ย You just have to be brave enough to see it. – Merida

 

Back in the good old days when we were still lobbing each other’s heads off with axes, and raising heads on pikes in praise, we did something else too. We told women how to behave. Every woman should be well kept, well mannered, speak when spoken to, and have no weapons at the dinner table. This was until a tousled Merida arrives from the Scottish highlands in the new Pixar film Brave.

ย 

Normally I choose films where real people and real dead bodies matter. Today I was babysitting my kid sister and her troupe of friends, and I was put in front of an animated film. I know I have the tendency to be a daydreamer, and this film was all about doing what you love, saving those you love, and choosing what is really important to you. I normally fall asleep when I read a synopsis of a film, I prefer to listen to (or read about) the layers beneath the storyline. So here is the storyline in two sentences…

A young girl is forced to be married and refuses in the hope a spell from a witch will save her. The spell goes wrong and now she is forced to protect the one family member she has been running from.

“Some say fate is beyond our command, but I know better. Our destiny is within us. You just have to be brave enough to see it.” These are the last lines of the movie. It rang inside me, and the theme of courage and chivalry run right through the entire film. It’s a pick-me-up movie reminding us that the bond between friends and our relationship will save us, despite the circumstances. I loved the fact too that there wasn’t a single American accent in the film. It’s a given these days since Pixar, Disney and Dreamworks are all based in the States. This was different and the fact it had a little fantasy woven in as well, was a little bonus for the bookworm inside me.

It was funny in parts, and meaningful in others. However, there were two questions floating around in my head during the film:

Were cartoons ever this fast?

Granted, it’s been years since I sat down at the Big Screen, and watched a full-length animated film. I like my storyline to flow a meaningful rhythm and single direction. This film felt terribly ADD to me. You’d have 15 minutes of a conversation, then suddenly the three little redhead scots come careening through and destroying everything, then another 10 minutes of plot. I felt at times the sudden change from scene to scene was a too fast and overwhelmed. Then again I’m also not a sugar-fueled 10 year old, so perhaps it’s a case of entertainment value and storyline.

When did cartoons become dark and violent?

Sometimes I think the movie creators forget that the bear with menacing claws on their 15 inch laptop, is translated out as a twenty foot bear growling at you. The opening scene of the movie is when a bear has his revenge on a scotsman. It must’ve been only 5 minutes, but my poor little sister next to me, just about crapped her pants before the film had begun. If it had been any longer, she was on the brim of her seat and was ready to flee.

I’m an adult, so I can rationalize and see that this film is a few well-oiled pixels, some voice actors, a decent screenwriter, and a cranky director molding everything together. A nine year old sees a 20ft bear and thinks, Holy Fuck. Get me out of here! There’s a long fight scene at the end with a bear who has arrows jutting out of his hide, a thick scar running down from the top of his head, and one yellow eye with no pupil. At this point the three girls I was with, all shrank together hugging each other trying to avert their gaze. The one girl said to me afterwards, “I couldn’t help it. It was very scary, but I still tried to watch so I could see what was going on.”

It is worth it? Yes, if you’re over the age of thirteen, and you no longer regard your teddy bear to be your best friend. No, if you’re younger than 13 and have a vivid imagination. Later on my step mom pointed out, that is handy when a kids movie comes out on DVD, because you can always turn down the volume a tad during frightening scenes. So don’t always listen to your friends, rather wait for the DVD. ๐Ÿ˜‰

 

PhilosopherPoet

 

Standard
Junk, Song

That song that makes you chuckle

This morning while on my normal day off, scrounging inside the guts of my computer, and swapping hard drives I had my iPod on. I’m a metalhead 90% of the day. Now that I got that off my chest, I confess I love to hear a sultry voice while I do dirty work. Today while I fiddled and faded Norah Jones filled in the blanks for me.

I had to chuckle when I heard the first few words of the song. Instead of ruining it for you, see the lyrics and/or video below.

Norah Jones – Man of the Hour

It’s him or me
That’s what he said
But I can’t choose
Between a vegan and a pot head
So I chose you, because you’re sweet
And you give me lots of lovin’ and you eat meat
And that’s how you became
My only man of the hour

You never lie
And you don’t cheat
And you don’t have any baggage tied to your forefeet
Do I deserve, to be the one, who will feed you breakfast, lunch,
And dinner and take you to the park at dawn
Will you really be
My only man of the hour

I know you’ll never bring me flowers
Flowers they will only die
And though you’ll never take a shower together
I know you’ll never make me cry
You never argue
You don’t even talk
And I like the way you let me lead you
When we go outside and walk
Will you really be
My only man of the hour?
My only man of the hour.
My only man of the hour.

 

PhilosopherPoet

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