Some of you may be aware that I am a lover of all things in which creative juices are the primary fuel to a project… or five, or seven and a half…
I enjoy and partake in many different avenues of creativity, such as but not limited to… photography, experimenting with beauty ideas, blogging, singing, songwriting, playing instruments, digital art retouching, poetry, avant garde modeling, and the most recent addition being writing… a novel.
One might think that is a bit of sensory overload but for me, it’s the air I breathe. My biggest problem, is finding the focus to finish a project once I’ve started (this actually applies to creative projects only…) It’s like there’s this perpetual “squirrel” that keeps dodging around and like the magpie I am, well… chasing after stimulation is as much of a pastime as catching it.
(Press play… you want to… trust me)
Any who… the purpose of this post was not to explain my artistic neurosis but to show you the end results…Although,
::back of hand to forehead in a dramatic fashion:: an “Ahrteest” is never finished her work, you know? hahaha
So, you all can see some of the fruits of modeling in the sidebar, and some of my writing
skills ridiculousness on this blog, and you’ve all been privy to my musical efforts… but I have yet to show you any of my new photography, retouching or even new poetry. So I figured, why not share all three in one post today. I will also link you to my FB fan page for my media company which I started awhile ago. If you’d like to like it and share, I wouldn’t say no ;)
Here’s one of my latest works. I have a new affinity for landscape and nature type photography. I took this image at a local spot in New Hampshire, For the image I used a Brady Daguerreotype desaturation with some dodge and burn, as well as a slight green cross process filter to intensify the contrast, and this is what happened!
As black as my heart,
As empty as my being…
When I am weak
you give me nothing
When I am strong
you keep me drowned
Inky and visceral
the viscosity adheres to my skin.
It’s in my lungs
It’s in my thoughts
It’s taken over,
will breathe no more
Should it climb out of my mouth
and on my tongue I will taste
and why do I love it so?
Why do I rely on it’s death?
Certainly, most certainly
life will never come to me
not while I drink
my desolate ink…