This virtual space is an extension of AEAH 3770 Computer Art Applications and will be used to record class discussions and ongoing conservations relating to the course.
Self-transformation is a pixelated journey. Floating on the peripheral, nostalgic and ghostly, Exploration on the perspective that is built to make you feel small, But this is a misrepresentation Built to be nerve-wrecking yet still, Constantly grounding you to the uncomfortable new age. A scared generation that is visual and graphic, Where what is monotonous can still be uncomfortable, familial becomes lonely. A place where trendy becomes your bigger-than-reality new skin. But who am I? An individual on-the-edge of bubbly and happy-go-lucky, Light and playful, Reacting with the tactile contradiction that is I to the new quality of young-adult. Interesting on the surface, Scared of what we will become. I am the soft, silent adoration of what is, what has passed, and what I and we, as a generation, will be. (Even though in technical theory, this cannot exist… therefore I must not be, belonging out-of-place?)
The shy and sweet femine beauty slowly walks to the space, This place of which is compositionally balanced with teal accents in the shadows. The mysterious yet curious staged place had the woman in a very defensive state. The emotional power of what could happen brought her to a state of energy Which is a primal instinct to have. The feet were playful with movement as depressing thoughts began to pressure her Into a direct fear of which cannot be just brushed off. Linear and swift flying of the lonely girl cannot be stopped As she sprints for her life.
For what.
What is she darting from?
Then no movement.
Introspective and personal thoughts began to multiply. Loyalty of her sanity was withdrawing from her perspective. Independent thoughts betrayed her as she stood lonely in the middle of the road. Human interaction was something she often longed for; Something she craved for in this moment. Off-guard of the light caught her in a state of dizziness.
The girl was not in fact something that was normal. The girl was but an idea.
On this journey In a land before time, concentration, and frustration, how could one be at peace through brainlessness and sectional solitude? Your deceptive determination causes twisted simple minded ZigZags to wipe out the part of their well behaved attentiveness and powerfully confuse everyone. While this electric current is flowing in mostly feminine focused beings, the lightning inside will only grasp those playfully forceful. If lonely bipolar awkwards are the only ones left to appreciate the innocence of sadness then joviality confusion will be no longer majestic. With this lack of quick indecision, the hurried process of depression will never again be a fast forceful stump, causing intense deception.
“when you sleep” on repeat droning away while I sleep
my noggin is floaty for you no lie detector necessary I’m so rom com 4 you Elevator rides my favorite time only when its me and u inside
You’re very comfortable You’re a pup that’ll never grow up You’re a human that don’t want to be Jellyfish was your former life Or maybe cheetah with dos eyes
My heart is sky high Val Halen “Jump”like Or youth of today POSIXJUMPs Before our time
Pin me, Bubbles I’m all ears Are you/were you ever a Nat Geo Thunderstorm I’ll stand underneath every tree anyway Potter mark hopefully
You have a Buzzy buzz about you
bZzZZZzZZzzzzZzzZzzZzzz 90’s wolverine bluesy
like really you’ve entombed me
but
no HM-2s or west coast hang loose could stop me houstoning “I’ll always love you.”
Miniature dinosaurs walk about on this tiny world they call home. Red ones, green ones, black ones, purple ones. Some wore animal print vest. Some had the talent of holding something with their feet.
Gold dogs would walk in the park and play. July was for floating and lounging around. October was for dressing up as headless octopi. Laughing every day at one’s self and everyday objects.
A moment in time they realized, love, lyrics and being together was everything they needed to be happy.
From the perspective of a microscope, like ants moving in a zigzag line.
Day after day going through the same motions, like going in squares, rather than circles.
I find myself contained, In a cubic world, Poised and patently waiting, In fear of the thunderous judgment, For taking action instead of morphing, Into a clean holy professional, I’d rather be a dark witch, With creepy whimsical laughter, They tell you to be spontaneous A rocker, To be unique, But they rather you flight than fight, Until you are extinct, Until the love, With depth like an ocean, Floats away in mystical smoke, How cryptic, Blurred, Pixilated this world is, They call me strange, They call me crazy, Different I may be, But I refuse to be faded, To be a snapshot in time, To be helpless with emptiness, It’s a stormy road, But I’ll wear my furry coat, Because I’ll be passing by, Spirited with bright hope, A shinny example, A playful giant, Among the dulled split personalities, That hide behind a relaxing face, Because in the broader scheme, There’s but one time, Just once, To do it right
Awkward and limp she sits watching time Resting her thoughts of that day’s mischief and chaos two shaky breaths and she enters a void where none of the combat and brutality can find her ghostly and chilling is the insignificance she feels no longer reaching for the light that had once illuminated her
unpredictable, unconventional, animalistic each moment of every day waiting to be filled geometric structures against a pixilated sky scientific calculations making candid moments disingenuous
Escaping to a fantasy Embracing a new, undiscovered world A dreamy place of joy and optimism Ethereal surroundings where only friends reside Growth, obedience, and patience ringing true
Envisioning Art
ReplyDeleteIt's about the experiment
Technique, quality, creativity
Your artistic choice of composition
Color, size, location
Your use of
Props, personal value, progressivism
Be careful
Don't overdo
editing, enhancement, saturation
Hold true to initial value
Refresh when in a stumble
Lighting, saturation, layers
Landscape
Portrait
Composition is key
Handmade or not
Art is more than what we've been taught
BOOM!
Corrin
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteWhat Will You Make?
ReplyDeleteWill it be suspended?
How energetic should it be?
Please, tell me about an airy, magical time.
You don’t have to be artsy, but handmade is a must.
Will it be a narrative story that reaches forth with warmth?
You tell me.
Take me on an adventure.
A spirited search of the beautiful.
No longer lonely.
Tell me how YOU push the boundaries.
Shed light on my questions of the world.
Please, tell me a story.
Share your good vibes.
Tell me,
what makes your heart beat?
What makes you laugh?
Should there be morphing?
Perhaps, animalistic ideas?
It could be trippy, or transformational.
Maybe it could all be a dream.
Play with light.
Play with your memories.
There is no need for storyline.
It doesn’t have to be narrative.
But don’t spare the action,
show the emotion.
Time for a shift plot.
Imagine somewhere airy.
Go on, breathe it in.
Create a comparison,
big or small.
Manipulate your ideas.
It might get a little creepy.
Forget about proportions and spill your soul.
Tell us all.
Make us art.
Self-transformation is a pixelated journey.
ReplyDeleteFloating on the peripheral, nostalgic and ghostly,
Exploration on the perspective that is built to make you feel small,
But this is a misrepresentation
Built to be nerve-wrecking yet still,
Constantly grounding you to the uncomfortable new age.
A scared generation that is visual and graphic,
Where what is monotonous can still be uncomfortable,
familial becomes lonely.
A place where trendy becomes your bigger-than-reality new skin.
But who am I?
An individual on-the-edge of bubbly and happy-go-lucky,
Light and playful,
Reacting with the tactile contradiction that is I to the new quality of young-adult.
Interesting on the surface,
Scared of what we will become.
I am the soft, silent adoration of what is, what has passed, and what I and we, as a generation, will be.
(Even though in technical theory, this cannot exist…
therefore I must not be, belonging out-of-place?)
How humorous, bubbly, cute they are
ReplyDeletePerhaps
But they defy logic
They are violent cadavers
They are dolls
They are tiny dolls
No hair
Giants they are, ready to hunt, angry, waiting, ready
Ready to pounce on the guillotine
How animalistic, they are
They come from seeds, from a different perspective
Their lives are lonely
How chaotic
How cheerful
How playful
How silly
Yet dark, lonely, and sad they are
Simple emoticons, they are
Too perfect is their double life
Your typical home life
Curiously otherworldly
They have double personalities
They are curvilinear
But they are linear
But they have halos
Ironic? Perhaps
They also transcend
They also are contemplative
They are time
We are nostalgic
They are superheroes
They are children
The Anxious Reptilian Girl
ReplyDeleteThe shy and sweet femine beauty slowly walks to the space,
This place of which is compositionally balanced with teal accents in the shadows.
The mysterious yet curious staged place had the woman in a very defensive state.
The emotional power of what could happen brought her to a state of energy
Which is a primal instinct to have.
The feet were playful with movement as depressing thoughts began to pressure her
Into a direct fear of which cannot be just brushed off.
Linear and swift flying of the lonely girl cannot be stopped
As she sprints for her life.
For what.
What is she darting from?
Then no movement.
Introspective and personal thoughts began to multiply.
Loyalty of her sanity was withdrawing from her perspective.
Independent thoughts betrayed her as she stood lonely
in the middle of the road.
Human interaction was something she often longed for;
Something she craved for in this moment.
Off-guard of the light caught her in a state of dizziness.
The girl was not in fact something that was normal.
The girl was but an idea.
On this journey
ReplyDeleteIn a land before time, concentration, and frustration,
how could one be at peace through brainlessness and sectional solitude?
Your deceptive determination causes
twisted simple minded ZigZags
to wipe out the part of their well behaved attentiveness
and powerfully confuse everyone.
While this electric current is flowing in mostly feminine focused beings,
the lightning inside will only grasp
those playfully forceful.
If lonely bipolar awkwards are the only ones
left to appreciate the innocence of sadness
then joviality confusion will be no longer majestic.
With this lack of quick indecision,
the hurried process of depression
will never again be a fast forceful stump,
causing intense deception.
You have a Jurassic reverb about you
ReplyDeletewhrRrRRRrrrRRrrrRRRRRrrrr 90’s shoegazey
like really slowdivey
or
“when you sleep” on repeat
droning away while I sleep
my noggin is floaty for you
no lie detector necessary
I’m so rom com 4 you
Elevator rides my favorite time
only when its me and u inside
You’re very comfortable
You’re a pup that’ll never grow up
You’re a human that don’t want to be
Jellyfish was your former life
Or maybe cheetah with dos eyes
My heart is sky high
Val Halen “Jump”like
Or youth of today POSIXJUMPs
Before our time
Pin me, Bubbles
I’m all ears
Are you/were you ever a Nat Geo Thunderstorm
I’ll stand underneath every tree anyway
Potter mark hopefully
You have a Buzzy buzz about you
bZzZZZzZZzzzzZzzZzzZzzz 90’s wolverine bluesy
like really you’ve entombed me
but
no HM-2s
or west coast hang loose
could stop me houstoning
“I’ll always love you.”
Sea foam Hearts
ReplyDeleteMiniature dinosaurs walk about on this tiny world they call home.
Red ones, green ones, black ones, purple ones.
Some wore animal print vest.
Some had the talent of holding something with their feet.
Gold dogs would walk in the park and play.
July was for floating and lounging around.
October was for dressing up as headless octopi.
Laughing every day at one’s self and everyday objects.
A moment in time
they realized,
love, lyrics and being together
was everything they needed to be happy.
From the perspective of a microscope,
like ants moving in a zigzag line.
Day after day
going through the same motions,
like going in squares,
rather than circles.
ReplyDeleteI find myself contained,
In a cubic world,
Poised and patently waiting,
In fear of the thunderous judgment,
For taking action instead of morphing,
Into a clean holy professional,
I’d rather be a dark witch,
With creepy whimsical laughter,
They tell you to be spontaneous
A rocker,
To be unique,
But they rather you flight than fight,
Until you are extinct,
Until the love,
With depth like an ocean,
Floats away in mystical smoke,
How cryptic,
Blurred,
Pixilated this world is,
They call me strange,
They call me crazy,
Different I may be,
But I refuse to be faded,
To be a snapshot in time,
To be helpless with emptiness,
It’s a stormy road,
But I’ll wear my furry coat,
Because I’ll be passing by,
Spirited with bright hope,
A shinny example,
A playful giant,
Among the dulled split personalities,
That hide behind a relaxing face,
Because in the broader scheme,
There’s but one time,
Just once,
To do it right
Awkward and limp she sits watching time
ReplyDeleteResting her thoughts of that day’s mischief and chaos
two shaky breaths and she enters a void
where none of the combat and brutality can find her
ghostly and chilling is the insignificance she feels
no longer reaching for the light that had once illuminated her
unpredictable, unconventional, animalistic
each moment of every day waiting to be filled
geometric structures against a pixilated sky
scientific calculations making candid moments disingenuous
Escaping to a fantasy
Embracing a new, undiscovered world
A dreamy place of joy and optimism
Ethereal surroundings where only friends reside
Growth, obedience, and patience ringing true