art
The best relationship art depicts the highs and lows of the authentic couple.
The Book on the Bench
It was just sitting there, alone on the bench's wooden slats, almost invisible in the grey November afternoon. I didn't even notice it until I sat down. I recognized it at once, of course; I have had so many of those little books tucked into pockets and bags over the years, with their smooth black covers and their snappy elastics, and the page-mark peeking out one end or another. I had come there to think, but suddenly all the greater issues were brushed away by the smaller. Who had left it? Did they know they had lost it? I jerked my head up and scanned the garden, looking for someone nearby, someone searching, anyone whom the notebook might belong to. But it was a cold day in the Tuileries when only a wandering and preoccupied soul would linger, and the few people there were only shapes in the distance.
By Valerie Thibodaux5 years ago in Humans
A Study in Provenance
From up close, the paint strokes came out as individual colors and shapes, each with its own deliberate intent. Taking a few steps back, Byron Mar’s unwavering gaze could nearly startle a viewer. His intensity in real life matched how his painterly circles often found him, scribbling, arguing, becoming consumed by any one of the artists and intellectuals around him. Funny how perception plays in a piece like this, all those actions taken years ago creating a sort of portal for the present to look through. A screaming child interrupted Andi’s conference with the artist’s self-portrait. She whipped her head around to see the child and relief- it was just Lucius. He made a face as he approached her on the unwelcoming museum bench to face Mar’s self portrait.
By Madison Kelley5 years ago in Humans
Ensemble
It was 5 AM in the morning and she opened up the small Moleskine black notebook in front of her and was again transported back in time. She looked up for a moment. She had landed less than an hour ago, and from her seat in front of the small café near the Champs-Elysée she could see the whole city begin to awaken. It was as if she were transported back thirty years in time, and in an instant, she felt young and alive again. She thought back over the incidents of the past week and just what had brought her back to this place.
By carey green5 years ago in Humans
Raye’s Extra Ordinary Life
Raye Doxon has a relatively ordinary life. She goes to school and work, gets her assignments done on time at the library, and enjoys her nightly movie marathons. But if there’s one thing missing, it has to be a sense of purpose. Something that enriches her soul beyond imagination and fills that void in her chest.
By Brooke Guasch5 years ago in Humans
The Art of the Fire
Sometimes I questioned the way that mankind had set up the world. Why were there some people, unhappy people at that, with billions of dollars, while others, people with dreams and passions, worked to the bone only to scrape by? I sat on the curb numbly as I gazed up at the orange flames that licked at my home. Just like that, all that I owned was being devoured by a merciless fire. It was a freak accident the fireman said, something about old electric wiring.
By Gena Cohen5 years ago in Humans
Another Side of Dubai #5 Phone Box
Phone boxes are retro. Which makes me feel old. This phone caught my eye for a few reasons. My name is Matthew Baker and a Shaman in Malaysia once told me that my mother was inseminated by an alien. But that’s a story for another day. This story is about this particular phone box in Deira in Dubai.
By Matthew Baker5 years ago in Humans
rise of the titan
I am no longer naive to the past. I open the third eye once blind to the opportunity of the new world. Physical is temporary as the internal is eternal. I walk like thunder. Crashing through mountains as if I could notice kings bowing. I am here to create outside of the realm we stare right through. Warriors sent here to crucify the nightmare. The illusions that rob the young of their thoughts. I am filled with the air of titans. The ones of the fractured timeline. Bleeding into this place like fever dreams. Contagious and infecting all the ones levitating. The light is blinding. A turbulence you can not ignore. Why should you? Where are you going? Do you know? I have decided what I am and where I am going. In fact I have become it and I wander seeking others to help me build an empire. My why is deeply rooted into my soul. A princess, an oracle, a brother, and the versions of me from infinite wisdoms. I no longer wear the mask seeking to be adored. I am simply here to illuminate. Myself and others who choose to see me.
By Samuel Bitner5 years ago in Humans
