As I painted this I thought about all that could go wrong tomorrow, all that I could toss for a bit of carnal needs. And I’m not sure that it’s worth the sacrifice but it doesn’t mean I won’t go ahead and take the risk.
This piece here symbolizes how I plead to myself for mercy and saving from myself. Every brick is a different colour (ideas, dreams, struggles), every stone a jagged edge (trust nothing, assume no one is safe). I stumble. Would I even know solid ground if it were to walk upon it? Would I know how to lift my feet one in front of the other if I were not on this chosen path of ruin?
Change is difficult even when it’s for the good but when you don’t feel any good inside positive change feels almost impossible. So I walk the same walk, stumble over the same stones and ask myself the same questions. Why aren’t I happy?
See video presentation for details, texture and color of Sacrifices here.
This painting is available on Redbubble in various print sizes.
Art by F. Magdalene
A mind of mayhem
Twisted and tangled
Unsure of the way out
Looks to the North, to the South
To the Sea, to the Sky
And perceives every angle in rich, unadulterated fear.
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Art and poetry by Austin (Arrow)
Poem title- A Mind of Mayhem
Art title 1- Fearful Mind
Art title 2- Twisted Visions
03-02-07/2:49AM EST
If I could get over this I’d jump as high as a mountain, up and over
If I could write it out of me, write a few lines and whisk away the pain
I’d smear ink, I’d chicken scratch years of scorn and mocked name calling
And I’d get over it.
If I could stand up and walk away
If I could just walk away I’d do so in a heart beat
But right now my heart beats to one slow tune
The sound of your voice telling me how much my pain burdens you.
Milwaukee, age 12
inside Morton’s Pride
November 25th, 2006
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Copyright 2006 @ Sundrip Journals. All rights reserved.
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Tiny Bowl Cramped Fish
Is there a space big enough to contain my every worry or fear? Is there a container large enough to hold dreams with endless possibilities? Will there be a waterproof bowl that will count my tears as they fill, be careful to not let them overflow. Will there ever be a container, a house, a home to hold all of this together and still let me breathe a sigh of relief?
Austin
Images Copyright © Sundrip Journals
A person in need of healing stands on the face of a broken clock knowing it is past time to heal, waiting is no longer an option.
The pocket watch is an old tarnished thing I’ve had for years but I keep it around because even time hasn’t erased the symbolism. I no longer put in fresh batteries so it is frozen at exactly 10:30PM and 42 seconds. Although the arms have stopped moving and the watch mechanics have seized in place my pace towards healing has neither slowed nor come to a hault.
Austin
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black children