by Lucy Campbell
A lot of the art that inspires me is mainly based around the uprising of women and women’s bodies shown in a way that isn’t necessarily a “classic” view of beauty. I feel that the choice of style comes from the desire to make certain features “ugly” or distorted while keeping it aesthetic and still considered beautiful. The pieces shown are all done with ink and marker, often showing expression through realism illustrations and aspects of cartooning.
About the Artist
Lucy Campbell, A brilliant artist of all the mediums ever. Creator of a series of internet marketing advice videos, she has often been known for her mental representations, abstract objects and abilities that make up the fundamental building blocks of thoughts and wise beliefs. This is some of the innumerable award winning work, which wields big words used in the wrong context to try and seem impressive, that has changed many lives, for the better.
by Grace Kelly
Looking up from the ground, it looks like a decoration. Its size leads you to think of large tapestries used to cover the grandest window. It flows like a sail, hinting on the infinite paths one can take with it. Its purpose can be experienced through a single touch. You can feel how this fabric is different. You can sense its purpose of a stage, used to frame the acrobatic movement. It draws in your gaze, like water swirling down a drain. Its movement is mesmerizing.
It’s capable of an unimaginable amount of forms, shifting from soft and flowy to rigid and taut. Stretchy then stiff within a sudden movement, steadily shifting through its many forms. It creates a physical representation of abstract ideas, blending together in an indescribable way, only able to be understood through sight and touch.
As I climb higher my body melts away. Subconscious thoughts are all that guides me, moving in and out of the fabric. Flowing through movements, exploring without the construct and limits of what is right or possible.
I can sense the gaze of many, filled with excitement and confusion, but I do not pay attention. If my thoughts stray I cease to float. My arms become rough stones, each movement uneven and uncertain. My torso stiffens like cement as all motion once posible disappears, leaving me trapped in place as the eyes of the many become ravenous vultures, picking off what is left of me. I must ignore the uncomfortable and break off the hardened stone. I adventure higher into the air, twisting and flowing like a stream unaffected by gravity, intertwining myself in the fabric.
Wrapping myself up in intricate movements feels instinctive. No matter how much I am challenged, these movements fulfill something deep inside my body. Something that was once empty and covered in dust, forgotten and denied, but is now filled with something better.
Everyone's lives start and end at a certain point in time and history. Everyone lives a life, some lives more similar to each other and others extremely different. Some people follow the crowd and others do their own thing.
I am always intrigued by the ones who don’t follow the pack. The curious ones, the adventure-seekers. The people who follow their passions and create who they are from defining experiences.
Certain people, you can tell they are unique. It radiates off of them. It is held in their smile, the way they express themselves, in the passions they pursue and the ways they pursue those passions. Their heart and soul pours into their moments of inspiration and passion. These are the ones that I want to be more like. The ones I want to love and laugh with. These are the souls who create a beautiful world to live in.
Blossoms in the Eyes
She sits in the cafe sipping her almond milk latte. Computer open, ideas wondering. I admire from a distance. Not a far distance, but a distance apart from her. Feeling like I had met her before. Her eyes covered by the light wisps of her hair falling out of her two twisted ponytails. Lips pressed against the cup leaving a lipstick stain: “City Chic” is the name of the color. She reminds me of the city. The beautiful people, the rushing ideas and artistic expression exploding with envy. I stare in curiosity of who she is. Face slowly turns, eyes meeting mine. I know those eyes. A sparkle like the stars on a clear night. Her mouth opens just enough to let out a word. A word of silence. Blossom she mouths. She picks up her things and walks out of the small cafe. All was left was her name in the silent air. Never knowing why she seems so familiar, but a word that will never be left, but admired in my mind. Blossom is her name, and she is the woman I know without knowing why.
At ease, she took a step back from the half-naked painted women. Her mouth slightly opened as the tip of the paintbrush entered her mouth and was bitten on. She could still feel the fingers, the light strokes of her brush against the canvas. Long, light strokes when content, harsh, short strokes when anger took over the mind. It stood in the center of the room still, once the last stroke of the brush was pressed against the once blank canvas, all was still. It was never moved, never looked at, never at emotion again.
Tattoos are viewed negatively in American society. For generations, they have been associated with criminals, gang members, and other generally negative connotations. In modern society, tattoos are on people of all sizes, shapes, ethnicities, races, sexual identities, and backgrounds. They are a form of self-expression and are very common. There are still hundreds of U.S. employers that have a no-tattoo policy, including Calvin Klein, Gamestop, and even Starbucks. Many companies state that tattoos are unprofessional, impact customers negatively, are not images they want for their company, and other twisted reasoning for not allowing tattoos to be shown. I disagree with these companies and their reasoning. Today, it infuriates me that so many people can not accept change or even put forth an effort to understand previously-controversial things like tattoos.
by Theresa Dooley
As you may find yourself feeling a little angry, here are a few fun things to think about.
Tonight, I decided to make myself some tea. After letting it steep for a few minutes, I went to take a sip to find that it was still too hot. Deciding that I didn’t want to simply wait, I went to the freezer to get an ice cube. I gently put the ice cube into the mug and as I did I became immediately entertained by the behavior of the frozen water. As it was submerged into the hot tea, there was a sharp cracking sound, and then little jagged patterned formed to be seen through its translucent sides. The amount of ice quickly decreased as little bubbles crept up the sides. And then, quite suddenly, the cube flipped over onto another side. I perceived this behavior as the bottom part of the cube melting at a faster rate than the top, making the cube top-heavy and resulting in it flipping over. I watched the little ice cube flip over a couple times, and then it grew so small that it was lost in the little bubbles that it produced. So, there you go: watching something as simple as ice in hot water can provide joy, and perfectly-heated tea accompanies that joy.
By yourself, headphones in, good song—this is the perfect scenario for dancing. This may seem odd because moving your body in ways that you are not used to is vulnerable and awkward. Despite the awkward feeling, however, I believe that allowing yourself to dance creates a unique release of joy that nothing else provides. Throughout history, dance has been a part of human culture, taking many different forms. Over time it has grown into a performance art, which I still love, but I believe that the popularity of performance has taken away from the original reasoning behind movement. It is natural for humans to dance. If you don’t believe me, spend some time with a toddler and observe how they react to music. It doesn't have to be pretty, it doesn’t have to look cool, it is just moving to a rhythm. So I dare you to try it, turn on some music and allow yourself to dance. I hope it brings you as much joy as it brings to me.
We live in a society constantly rushing toward the same thing. It's always, “What’s next—what are we going to do now?” Sometimes, we aren’t content with what we have in ourselves, always wanting something more. We look at what will happen later. We always want to do the next big thing. But what happens when you forget about the future and stay content with yourself now and what you have to offer to the world? What happens when you just let yourself be who you are?
Over the course of some time, I have captured photos of people and friends during moments where they felt content with themselves and let themselves be who they are. It could be a simple laugh or even a passion that they have that made them forget about what's next and let them live in the moment.
Mary Oliver was a woman of many words. She was a woman of poetry, changing the way the mind looks at the beauties around us, specifically nature. Her works focused on the natural world and the details contained in nature. She was beloved by many and opened the eyes of many young writers aspiring to create diligent pieces connecting with nature and the beauty of life. She wrote from the heart, making artists able to connect and relate to her works. Though not an artist of paintings nor sculpture, she was an artist of words and creativity of the mind. Mary Jane Oliver holds a special place in many hearts as a woman of powerful words inspiring others to create their own stories.
Mary Oliver sadly passed away this past January from lymphoma. She is always in our hearts when writing and reading the poetic mind and she will always be recognized in history as one of the most inspiring poets. She will keep inspiring many writers for generations to come.
We encourage you to read her beautiful and heart-wrenching obituary from the New York Times, accessible here.