SHAMEFULLY UNDERFAVED 4

by *rocamiadesign, Jul 30, 2009, 11:07:29 AM
Journals / Culture / Tributes

When I wrote the first Shamefully Underfaved article, I had planned to do one sequel to it, but I was inundated with suggestions for future articles. With all the help I have gotten from artists here, I decided to continue the articles. I welcome any future suggestions. Just send me a note with the thumbnails or a link to the artist's gallery, and I'll add them to the next article. With all the activities that are occupying my summer, I couldn't have done this without a lot of help! Thank-you to all those who offered links for me to check out!

The following people have suggested artists and artworks for this article:

ARTISAN CRAFTS

CARTOONS/COMICS

DIGITAL ART

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FRACTAL ART

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LITERATURE - If you want some thoughtful comments on your work, I urge you to make friends with some of these talented writers. Some of the best comments on my art have come from my writer friends. I was helped with this selection by , although he doesn't know it. I raided his Favorites to find these:

Joy Is FoundJoy is found
in the little things
the things that we notice
throughout our long days
that help us make it through
things like
the taste of a good cup of coffee
or the smell of fresh bread baking
or the smile of a wee child
who still retain their innocence
the stark beauty
of a cobalt blue sky
with the horizon stretching away
or the sounds of singing birds
at the break of day
Joy is found
but you must look for it
it IS there
open your eyes and your ears
but mostly
open your heart!!!! Conversation With DescartesIs it true, that I can only be "I" when you are "you"? While you are "you", I have you bound in my perception. I know who you are, and what you can do. Since you have now been bound, I can be free, experiencing myself as undefined, a limitless potentiality.

But you claim to be "I" too. You also use this common tongue.  Your claim to "I",
for you, is more original, more profound than mine. After all, if I should die, you will remain beside my grave, while your demise will obliterate an entire cosmos. So are we, as we sit here, locked in mortal combat? Does your struggle to assert your freedom require you diminish mine?

Is it also :thumb131207386: mirageher man has driven to the
Oklahoma state line twice
a week for twenty years
to put in his numbers,
hit the big time,
while she pulled
two shifts at the
paper mill, dreaming
small dreams of owning
a professional stove
with a double oven and
a stainless steel
refrigerator, a little
pie shop of her own

the mill’s gone now, and
they live in the same shack
on the river, eating
dust from passing
farm rigs - duallys
from Farm Aid
and monster tractors
financed by the
government that will rust
before they’re paid for
while she
can’t afford to get
her teeth fixed

now, when he drives
to Oklahoma,
she rides wi to map sunrises...one day I will tell my daughter to touch herself
before she ever lets a man do it for her, to learn
her body-secrets and the shape of pleasure. I will
tell her that San Francisco always keeps your heart.
that her skin is a blank canvas, that hair grows,
the value of the right kind of disrespect. that the older
we get, the more we need the people who knew us
when we were young. I will tell my daughter

to give away the secrets that keep her up at night,
and that there is never a wrong time to love someone,
but sometimes a wrong way. I will teach my daughter
to travel without makeup; that sometimes forever means
morning and sometime :thumb128895794: :thumb129306015: Madison His head was bowed and his arm was out. He walked upon grey tar and his eyes were already struggling to see the road. His thumb had grown tired of sticking straight up a while ago, so he’d resorted to just holding his fist out limply, as if to drop a hidden something into an invisible other’s palm.
He wanted to get to Madison, but the town didn’t matter. He couldn’t care less about where he was going, as long as he got there. He couldn’t care less as long as a car stopped for him before nightfall, because there were no streetlights on this road. He’d even left the power lines behind somewh :thumb127781328: :thumb125450166: Here Lies MajestyHere lies majesty—

Here, a lightening lacerated titan,
A fallen corpse in a copse,
Who once stood sentinel
Over this babbling brook.

Beside him, willows weep— first flight...no matter how hard i swallow
   my skin's crackling-
electric from the pulse
of a dancing heart.

  like a songbird
             like a dragonfly                                                        higher
     all over inside me-    :thumb121782172: Daddy is an artistDaddy doesn’t need water
For his bloody knuckles
To color pretty pictures,
He'll exhibit with pride when the work is done.
All he really needs
Are his eight red markers
To help him express the anger
He keeps bottled up inside.
Daddy is an artist and I am
Living proof of his ability
To cause pain.
My skin is a canvas you can use over and over again,
Welcome to the museum of horrors
Where you can admire the beauty
In every bruise, scrape and blood stain.

MANGA/ANIME/ANTHRO

PHOTOGRAPHY

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PHOTOMANIPULATIONS

:thumb130839773: :thumb127253233: :thumb126535821:

STOCK

TEXT ART

TRADITIONAL ART

:thumb117586832: :thumb110447352: :thumb125637820: :thumb121628308: :thumb117604729: :thumb119384320: :thumb129967648:

WALLPAPERS

:thumb130315875: :thumb128558094: :thumb129584954: :thumb128745945:

These have over 50, but deserve much, much more:

If you have a suggestion for the next article, please send it to me in a note. I haven't had the time to go through my messages, so a comment would just get lost there.