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Custom Living Dead Doll: Sorrow
Name: Sorrow
Base: Chloe
Details:
- Repainted with acrylics (and sealed)
- Handmade pink flowing gown with black felt straps
- Handmade pearl bead bracelet
South of the Crown Center on Hospital Hill, Kansas City MO. This is a wonderful building constructed of fine materials and in great condition.
Well youve got me working so hard lately.
Working my hands until they bleed.
If I was twice the man I could be.
Id still be half of what you need
Still you lead me and I follow
Anything you ask you know Ill do.
But this one act of consecration is what I ask of you
Ringfinger.
Promise carved in stone.
Deeper than the sea.
Ringfinger.
Sever flesh and bone
And offer it to me.
You just left me nailed here.
Hanging like jesus on the cross.
Ill be dying for your sins.
And aiding to the cause.
Ringfinger...
Wrap my eyes in bandages.
Confessions I see through.
I get everything I want.
When I get part of you.
Nine inch nails
When I saw this statue outside a tomb in Havana's biggest cemetary I couldn't help but stand there and stare for what felt like a quarter of an hour. It's life-sized, and the artist had a keen appreciation of how to make a fully clothed woman appear curvacious to the point of nakedness. The cherry on the cake - for me anyway - is the sombre dignity that's maintained throughout.
Artist: Manuella Muerner Marioni
Title: Sorrow
Medium: Acrylic Painting on canvas
Size: 100 x 75 cm / 40 x 30 inches
Year: 2012
The whole Painting is made with drops of color
This was the first outing ive ever joined organized by those fellas from Canon, here at Benteng, Kuantan. There were a few models and a couple, all were amazingly beautiful.
Anyhow, the outing was great, met plenty of DSLR masters and Nikon users and i just hope Nikon would organize an outing here.
Moment captured using Nikon D70, Nikkor 55-200mm.
Sivayogapuram. Trincomalee, Sri Lanka.
this house like many other was burned during the inter ethnic clashes which happend in Trincomalee during the April.
When storms of suffering swirl,
I bow to you, mind of sorrow.
Like a river over stones,
the koan flows —
sound without form,
emptiness without fear.