MURDER!!! (in my shower?!)

to ease your troubled mind, the "blood" is just red tempra paint

my first use of photoshop....took me 45 mins to get the picture to save as greyscale....basically it took me that lonog to realize that there was a help button.... -_-'

in the dark

i just wish that i had photo shop...then i could make this pic really cool, but i dont, so i just have to deal and get used to it...

cats....gray one is mine, black one is one at my work.

i loved this cat. those were my goldfish that i was giving to one of my co-workers.

isnt she beautiful?

poems

Wolf Pack Melody

The curtain opened.
He walked up the hill and stood at the top.
Others stood at the bottom silently,
Watching, waiting for something to happen.
Suddenly, a loud note sang though the sky.
It was long and crisp, a mellowish note.
The song had begun.
The wolf sang a song that sung of hunting,
The zigzagging rabbits that ran swiftly.
The horns of a buck that caused many deaths.
A swift, cold, chilling breeze swept through the pack.
The sky was clear and the stars shone bright.
The solo went on.
The others waited as if for a cue,
Heads lifted high, they joined in on the song.
A choir of canines clothed in gray robes,
Some sang melody, some sang harmony,
All blended together in unison,
The wolves sang aloud.
The choir stopped and the solo began,
It was as loud and as crisp as before.
His microphone was the mountains and hills,
The howling echoed for miles around.
The suddenly silence surrounded them,
The song had ended.
His head held high and his tail in the air,
He sprinted down the hill, which was his stage.
Then from all around, birds began to chirp.
The wolves then began to bark their applaud.
Even the shining stars seemed to approve.
The curtain had closed.



Locked on My Side of the Door

I am locked in this life,
Inside a dark room.
But it is closed and locked,
On my side of the door.

The key is in my hand,
I can unloch the door,
But I can't find the strength.
This is my prison,
Yet it is my shelter,
From the dark world outside.

Some people knock and call,
They want into my room,
They want my door unlocked,
They want to help save me.

Bright light steams though the cracks,
Where the door meets the fame.
It shines though the darkness,
Showing a glimse of love.

But I can't find the will,
To let those people in.
The light is frightening,
I cannot face the truth,
That shines through the darkness,
Showing a glimse of love.

I desire friendship,
But when the people come,
I do not let them in.
I don't open my door,
Yet I want them inside,
To see my broken soul.

To some I'll open it,
But only just a crack,
Let them see my soul's room.

When they try to enter,
I close the dooron them,
And put the lochk in place.

I walk to the corner,
Far away from the door,
Where the light does not reach,
And wallow in my pain,
Ignoring my friends' help.

I am locked in this life,
Inside a small dark room.
There is only one door,
But it is closed and locked,
On my side of the door.



At the Cross

Stumbling through the darkness,
The darkness of my own pain’
I’m slowly bleeding to death.
I am clutching at the knife,
That has been stabbed though my soul.
My soul is crying for help,
My voice doesn’t make a sound.

Stumbling through the darkness,
I fall to my knees crying,
Shaking from exhaustion,
Of the never ending night,
Of the never ending pain.
My soul is crying for help,
My voice doesn’t make a sound.

Stumbling through the darkness,
My wounds open and bleeding,
Are drenching the ground in blood.
I’m screaming out in pain,
But only certain people hear.
My soul is crying for help,
My voice doesn’t make a sound.

Stumbling through the darkness,
Searching for a guiding light.
I know who I need to find,
I know where He’s waiting,
Waiting at the cross for me.
My soul is crying for help,
My voice doesn’t make a sound.
But Jesus hears me crying,
And waits at the cross to rescue me.

These are all some of the studio art stuff that i have been working on for my art class at school.

this is the first time i have ever used charcol, so i had to do a bit of experimenting. but once i got the hang of i found that i like the results. i never ended up finishing it, but i still like the way it started out. (though i copied this picture from an amy brown art book)

here is the book that i copied it from.

this is the first time that i have really ever used clay. i was afraid that it would blow up when fired...but as you can see it didnt.

here is another picture that i copied from the amy brown book. i drew this one in pencil. once again, this picture is not finished (nor will it ever be....). as you can see, 1 wing is all but missing.

more amy brown. though this one i drew in pen, not done, but i thought it was good being i could not erase.

this one is the first project that i made in my art class this year. the moon is made out of tinfoil and is painted in tempra paint (im dont have enough $ to buy acrilics or oils...)

this project is also painted in tempra. you cant tell by the picture, but the womwn, luna moth, and one of the trees is raised by foam core.

this is a colloge that i made one day. i used magazine cut-outs, tinfoil, and paint. i did not plan out what i wanted to do. i just kinda sat down and started cutting and glueing. im surprised at how well it turned out.

All the pictures here are from a trip to Thomas Jefferson's house. I would like to say that they are pretty good for someone who has never been taught how to take pictures, but....

this picture would have been pretty good....except for the stupid branch that i didnt notice until later....

The scenery was very pretty there.



The main house.

i really liked the grave site...i took quite a few pics of it.