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The Global Shrinking Event suddenly, instantly, and without warning took 99% of humanity from the food-chain's zenith and reduced them to bugs. Within seconds of the catastrophe the chaos had killed thousands; cars crashed, planes plummeted. Anyone unlucky enough to be in a shower was promptly swept away by the powerful current.
After the initial trauma followed further carnage. The event only seems to have affected humans... Crowded outdoor malls became feasting grounds for pigeons, stranded commuters on subway platforms were soon fleeing from bus-sized rats. The tiny proportion of humans who remained full-sized were all but powerless to help, too dazed, too shocked and too few to render any meaningful assistance to their scores of minuscule brethren.
In this picture we see young Jenny mere moments after the Global Shrinking Event. One moment, she was in her backyard playing with her dog Chrissie. Then, in the time between two heartbeats, she was on the paving looking up at a panting behemoth the size of skyscraper. She didn't even get to run, Chrissie was too quick. With a quick slurp of her powerful wet tongue Chrissie plucked the treat-sized Jenny from the ground and drew her into her waiting, cavernous maw.
After swishing the screaming figure around her mouth Chrissie prepared to swallow, but hesitated. The sound and the flavour were both so familiar... and just where had her master gone?
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Ambiguous ending! What happened next? I'll leave that to your imaginations. Leave a comment and tell me what you think should happen next, I'm curious as to what people like. I hope you enjoyed reading :)
A special thanks to verex (www.flickr.com/photos/xxeriuss/) for the photo of the giant pooch, I hope you like what I did.
Please don't reupload my photos on other websites without my permission, thank you! ♡
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Nathaly Tiznado Siegmund.
....."He had a beautiful heart-shaped ruff"
from "The Owl Who Was Afraid Of The Dark" By Jill Tomlinson
Maurizio Cattelan
Not Afraid of Love
Avec ”All” au Guggenheim en 2011, on pensait que « tout » avait été dit. Comme souvent avec Maurizio Cattelan, nous étions sur une fausse piste…
Ce qui devait être le salut final d’une carrière éblouissante, faite d’œuvres qui ont marqué l’époque, de scandales, de profondeur, de fracas et d’humour, n’était qu’une (ir)révérence de plus.
Cinq ans plus tard, Cattelan revient au travail. Il a choisi la Monnaie de Paris pour son exposition la plus importante en Europe, et la plus importante depuis sa rétrospective New-Yorkaise. Cette exposition à la Monnaie de Paris, sous le commissariat de Chiara Parisi, est une exposition qui sera profondément « habitée » par Cattelan. Un choix d’œuvres, dont l'image reste pour toujours accrochée à la rétine, seront exposées dans les salons XVIIIème siècle de la Monnaie de Paris.
Irrévérencieux, génial, facétieux, drôle, grave, provocateur, cynique, potache, Maurizio Cattelan n’est jamais là où on l’attend. Les visages de Cattelan sont autant d’uppercuts qui nous laissent KO.
Et c’est là son paradoxe ultime, sa capacité géniale à transformer une fuite en pirouette sublime : Cattelan n’aura jamais été aussi présent dans une exposition, et pourtant chacune de ses œuvres hurle son absence.
L’effigie de Cattelan, l’art de la mise en scène, sera le cœur battant de l’exposition à la Monnaie de Paris.
Un début de réponse à son interrogation aussi pince-sans-rire que métaphysique « y-a-t-il une vie avant la mort ? ».
Aren't they just so cute ?? I really love Maddie curly hair it's so soft but I don't want to brush it I'm too afraid of destroying it, for now Raven has her hair straight it's much better and easier to style
It wasn't raining I'm afraid.....I simply added the droplets for affect. The capture wasn't planned either, I was actually tidying up the planter and couldn't help but notice the potential. The clay pot in the background is a minature.....just in case anyone thought I was growing a massive hybrid :-)
Not Afraid to Look sculpture at the Standing Rock Sacred Stone protest camp. Photographed with an Olympus OM-2n Using a Zuiko MC Autozoom f/4 35-70mm lens. The film is Kodak Max Versatility 400, expired 09/2004.
These were dogs that I photographed during Nikki and Jonathan's engagement shoot. I loved them!!!
The little black dog on the right was super afraid of the sound of a camera, so we had to trick her a little bit. :) This was one of the only shots where we had her looking at the camera and not trying to run away.
If you use my images for anything, please link back to my blog, website or flickr stream! And drop me a note as well!! I love seeing my work out there!
Website: www.terradawn.com
Blog: www.terradawnblog.com
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He is already afraid of the camera, My Son and Wife were playing with camera and they took this shot
The deer on the Ridgefield Wildlife Refuge are so used to people that I wonder if they would survive very long of off the refuge.
model: Bridgit
alone and afraid.....
she holds on tight.
gripping at anything she can.
only if u could here...the sounds
and the smells
through a picture that'd be just great.
ill try to explain
the loud voices in the other room
the smell of alcohol in the next room
the smell of air freshner in the
restroom...
the smell of the rain and fresh air
as i open a window.
As introduction, let me offer words from the essay, “Better Speak,” by Hank Willis Thomas:
… I encountered Audre Lorde’s “Litany for Survival.” The last few lines are emblazoned on my soul:
and when we speak we are afraid
our words will not be heard
nor welcomed
but when we are silent
we are still afraid
So it is better to speak
remembering
we were never meant to survive.
“Better to speak!” echoes in my mind whenever I feel like shriveling up and hiding in the corner rather than being exposed or critiqued. There is sheer audacity required to write words for a broader audience, even more to get up and read those words aloud. I feel the same is true for contemporary visual artists. To speak is almost to say “I know,” but in most cases artists are speaking about things they don’t know, or are still in the process of knowing. I feel like poetry is at its best when it speaks to the process of knowing, dangling on your heart right before it gets to your mind.
There is sheer audacity required to put one’s work—words or marks—out for view and review. What the artist makes reveals that very process of unearthing some glimmer of knowledge or understanding. Sometimes that view appears sublime. Other times it reveals a raw wound.
Rooted and Unmoored presents a range of views in the consideration of place. The process began during a residency at
Sitka Center for Art & Ecology, near Otis on the Oregon Coast. While there I immersed myself in that physical place, a landscape
not dissimilar to Grays Harbor, which is the place that I call home. For six weeks I found myself uprooted yet grounded, and shaped ideas that reflected the view around me—from the cathedral of spruce forest to the dappled greens of an alder grove to the infinite shades of blue and gray reflected by river and ocean.
After returning home I continued to look with fresh eyes, in order to translate the familiar into visual language. A favorite walk takes me to the confluence of the Hoquiam River and the Chehalis, and turning west reveals the Harbor’s wide mouth, attuned to the sky. This horizon line, and the space above and below, with its shapes, colors, and textures, provides ample inspiration.
For me, looking outward required the balance of looking within, to reflect upon one’s internal “place.” This process mined memories, observations, and imaginings that I’d been recording in written form over the years. It also took into consideration the deep influence that reading holds over me. The Box Poem series develops such narratives.
While I still shy away from the sheer audacity required to speak, I remain compelled to do so. I hope that these works will—
like well-crafted poems—dangle upon your heart, and linger on your mind.
C. Larson
September, 2013
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artist statement
In my art-making as a whole—even in its most abstracted forms—a sense of place is often at the root of the work. Perhaps a particular piece evokes the natural beauty of the physical landscape. Perhaps it reflects on the emotional landscape of literature. Or it may speak to a mental place, a state of mind.
I look for form to follow concept. I strive to shape a meaningful experience for the viewer. And my love for the written word means that the textual elements in my work are not secondary. I am drawn to processes and materials that invite touch, that celebrate the tactile qualities that encourage us to connect with one another. This seems a lovely counterweight to our rushed, mass-produced, twittering world.
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artist biography
Carrie L. Larson, born in Bellingham, Washington, moved throughout the Northwest during her childhood, until settling in Aberdeen with her family. There she graduated from JM Weatherwax High School, then moved to Walla Walla, earning a Bachelor of Arts degree in 1993 from Whitman College, where she was privileged to study art under Keiko Hara.
Since then she has practiced her calling—most recently in a chaotic home studio—sending her artwork out to juried shows throughout the region, including venues as far away as Chicago and Denver. One of her artist’s books, Red, Revisited, was included in Lark Crafts recent publication, 500 Handmade Books, Volume 2, juried by Julie Chen.
Carrie, along with husband John, currently calls Hoquiam home. There she is quietly active in her community, does freelance work as a color consultant and occasional floral designer, and operates a 5x8 Craftsmen letterpress under the concinnity press imprint. She is also responsible for a well-worn library card and a garden filled mostly with weeds and good intentions.
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I am deeply indebted to so many who have supported my path—
To list everyone by name might require several volumes.
For now, let me offer deep gratitude to a handful:
to the college library crew, particularly Valerie, Sarah & Stan;
to Miss Swartz, 3rd grade teacher at Selah Elementary in 1979,
who set the foundation;
to my mentor, Keiko Hara, who challenged her students
while modeling artistic discipline and dedication;
to Ron Westman, gentle critic and epic storyteller;
to Paul Hunter, for graciously allowing me to borrow
his beautiful words for my own ends;
to Artist Trust for resources, and the skills that led to courage;
to the folks of Sitka Center, whose generosity renewed my spirit;
and to those grounding me at home—
my rock, John, and the gray cats, who like to investigate
works in progress.
Thank you.
"Change, it is inevitable, but the most nerve-wrecking thing in the world. Being afraid of it is being afraid of life itself because that is what life is, passing moments of change. Every single thing changes. I’m starting to think i might be a control freak. I avoid situations in which i cannot have an easy escape when my anxiety gets the worst of me. I really hate it. I had so many dreams and ambitions, this is not where i thought i would be at this point of time. I haven’t accomplished anything and have been sitting in this exact place for the last 3 years. It’s like im in this crazy loop hole and when i finally get the courage and do something about it, within a few days, the fear creeps back up. nags me and makes me feel hopeless again. Its like living up to that old saying “you can’t miss what you never had”, fearing that the day i will get it, ill soon lose it only to be in an even worse predicament of grievance and misery. I know it sounds insane but hell, its how i feel at the moment. I have to stop being afraid of such ridiculous things because deep down i know this isnt the path i choose for myself and giving so much energy to such negative thinking is merely a waste of life."
- Treehugger_pe, www.43things.com