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Artwork (Traditional) / All
Species Monkey
Size 930 x 780
File Size 284.3 kB
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Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
~ W.B. Yeats (excerpt from the Second Coming)
More spring cleaning! I found this tucked away in a pile of stuff. I guess I started it... yeesh, around last September. I couldn't remember why I abandoned it mid-painting, so I figured I'd put a couple more hours into it this afternoon and finish it up. The world could use some more baboons, anyway. ;]
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
~ W.B. Yeats (excerpt from the Second Coming)
More spring cleaning! I found this tucked away in a pile of stuff. I guess I started it... yeesh, around last September. I couldn't remember why I abandoned it mid-painting, so I figured I'd put a couple more hours into it this afternoon and finish it up. The world could use some more baboons, anyway. ;]
Category Artwork (Traditional) / All
Species Monkey
Size 930 x 780px
File Size 284.3 kB
wow.....that sucks (the poem! im talking about what it says in the poem!) anyways real nice work (of course) whats the dimensions of the canvas? this reminds me of something my teacher said, he said that painting flat landscapes is harder the mountainous landscapes.....do you agree? he use the florida everglades as an example but, im not sure, it is nice to be out there.
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert.
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
Your artwork is always really well done...
Sorry, but I can't help but post "The Second Coming"
This is "No Country for Old Men"
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