walkingblind art and literature magazine

September 2010V

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WalkingBlind Art and Literature Magazine Published by NevaehVision

Cover art by Shingo Matsunuma

WalkingBlind Issue 2 vol. 1

About the front cover.

On our front cover is Hito

Kikai 4 by Shingo Mat-

sunuma otherwise know as

“Shichigoro.” Check out this

amazing artist from Japan

and the whimsical worlds he

creates. To see more from

Shichigoro head over to our

digital art section for other

images and details about the

artist’s work.

WalkingBlindLayout and Editorial

Executive Editor- Kendra Gimblet Assitant Editor- Glen L. Puchlerz

Graphics Director- Glen L. Puchlerz

Layout Director - Glen L. Puchlerz

Business

WalkingBlind Art and LiteratureMagazine is a publication ofNevaehVision.

For advertising or submision queries contact:[email protected]

www.nevaehvision.com

Editor’s Letter

WalkingBlind Art and Literature Magazine’s premiere on the secondof August was bigger than my staff and I ever expected. People

came pouring in from all around the web and globe to see the artists fea-tured within the pages of the periodical, read the articles, and comment,setting our readership at well over fifteen thousand people for the firstissue. To say that I am really proud of the payoff is an understatement,and that payoff is art awareness. So with that I would like to publiclythank all of you for viewing, book marking, and rereading our first issue.The overall reader response was outstanding with so many wonderfulreviews and comments, there were some negative feedback which wasas to be expected, we can’t please everyone in the known world. One ofthe exciting new additions to this issue and ones to follow is that you willbe able to read those responses on our Reader’s Comments page.

As you all know the first of our main goals is to become a printedmagazine that spreads the universal language of art around to every na-tion, in preparation for that we are constantly working to improve thelook, feel, and overall quality of WalkingBlind. You will be seeing someminor tweaking of format in the periodical over the next few issues aswe fine tune the magazine’s appearance to really make it its own. In con-junction with that some major marketing endeavor’s are happening be-hind the scenes in an effort to raise the support needed to keepWalkingBlind going strong. We never ask our artists for money, but wedo rely on donations and sponsors to support our overhead and operat-ing costs. More good news is that we may have some great artistic con-tests with amazing prizes in the near future as we affiliate ourselves withlarger artist resource vendors.

My staff and I are very engaging people and love to challenge ourskills with various tests and obstacles in order to reach a new level ofhigh and have a lot of fun while we are doing it; all of our contests willbe geared toward that goal. These upcoming treats will be for our visualart section and the writers, no one will get left out in any event. Theprompt and or task will be applied to everyone, so invite your friendsand fellow artists to participate when they are announced.

By now you see that I enjoy sharing good news and this time it con-cerns NevaehVision, the site that hosts WalkingBlind Magazine. I amhappy to say that by the time the October issue is out the website will becompletely finished with blog and forum included. You will be able tochat with artists or those who just appreciate art in the lounge and makenew friends as you go through the threads. Subscribe to the magazineusing our new RSS feed so that you can keep in touch with the magazineand other upcoming events. Not only that, but you will be able to talk tothe staff on a regular basis along with reading and commenting on themagazine’s blog. In addition to this we will be setting up a donation pagefor you to support our vision for the arts, so that we may continue tobring art back to the forefront of everyday society.

WalkingBlindKendra Gimblet - Executive Editor

WalkingBlindWalkingBlind F e a t u r e sSeptember 2010Volume 1 Number 2

Departments

Digital Art

Traditional Art

Poetry & Prose

Photography

Articles

Enterainment

Patipat Asavasena Kazuhiko NakamuraShingo MatsunumaCyril Rolando

11 -21 -27 -31 -

Annie SteggLaura BifanoRob Rey

G.H. MonroeJessica MoulaissonMelissa UshliyanageSamantha Puchlerz Livvy CarsonArwa ShahzadK.H. Phoenix

Michelle CarrelMind-CageAndrey Alekseev

Indigo ReidAlex Dark

Wenqing Yan

WalkingBlind Art and literature Magazine is a publication of the Nevaehvision co. Content is protected under U.S. and International copyright laws. Any duplicationwithout the express written authorization of Walkingblind Magazine and it’s subsidiaries is strictly prohibited. Artistist creative works and/or intellectual propertiesare under license to WalkingBlind Magazine and remain the sole properties of the artists. For further information contact WalkingBlind Art and Literature Magazine

at: http//www.nevaehvision.com or email: [email protected] WalkingBlind Art and Literature Magazine is a monthly publication with offices in Florida andMassachusetts Copyright©Nevaehvision.com, 2010. All rights Reserved.

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F e a t u r e s R e a d e r ’s

C o m m e n t s

Along with the success of our premiere issuecame a flood of readers comments. We have tosay it made us feel great! As the collection ofrandom comments was assembled into a largerwhole it became apparent that a singular voicestood out....”readers loved the magazine” andwe love our readers for their support. As a re-ward here are a few of the comments you sentin, so if one of these belongs to you enjoy yourfive minutes of fame and thank you from theteam at WalkingBlnd magazine. We couldn’tdo it without you!!

"I've been in the computer graphics publishing busi-

ness for nearly two decades, having published two

very successful print magazines, edited three others,

written 11 best-selling books and more than 250 tu-

torials for magazines around the globe. I've seen my

share of magazines in this industry and I welcome

and support the marvelous effort the team at Walk-

ingBlind are doing to both inspire and educate the

art community. Congrats on the new magazine! Well

done!"

Bill Fleming

Publisher

Komodo Publishing

I am by no means an expert, but I feel you guys are

doing a stellar job. The layouts are well thought out

and do not distract from the text!

by Mr. Nakes

I enjoyed the first issue, and will definitely continue

to read. It was very nicely put together too!

by Daniel Griffiths

Awesome site, found through WritersCafe. In this

quick run through was really impressed with its vi-

sual quality and layout. Keep it up and will visit

often.

by Rory

I have to say, the best art magazine I've seen in a

while! It's well written and well organized and the

artists you picked are brilliant. I don't dare to submit

anything now, maybe in 2 years ! :D

Best regards,

Milica

On the general layout and feel of it and I must say

it's both extremely fascinating and engaging. The

way everything was arranged by itself was a work of

art. It is definitely my kind of magazine, too bad I

couldn't read any of the articles! Darn my horrible

laptop.

by SedahLiah

I loved the whole first issue, can't for more and to

get a subscription!

by Erin

Digital Art

PatiPat asavasenaFantasy is not just a hobby

Walkingblind Magazine11

asuka111

Greed by Asuka111


This month as we journey deeper into the wellof digital art, past each glowing pixel into themagical electron buzz of color and luminancewe find Patipat Asavasena as Asuka drivingour video-cards hard with his personal blendof somber elegance and subdued flare. Asukais the kind of artist that finds rest in the mist ofchaos and captures the feeling of peace andtranquility that each of his characters may beexperiencing. With an excel-lent color pallet and greatoriginality this artist contin-ues to stun the world pro-ducing works that have wonhim the WACOM Anime GirlContest, Cute Award, 2009,WACOM Anime and Mangacontest, Grande prize win-ner, 2010 and the Let'sComic Awards 2010, Andthe Let's Selected CG ArtistAward. It is hard to think that a person as pas-sionate about art as he, was so close to pur-suing another career with a Bachelor degreein Mechanical Engineering from KasetsartUniversity in Bangkok, Thailand already inhand. “I was inspired by Japanese's animationand manga culture. I started to draw as ahobby at first.” Asuka says “ Then, I continuedto study and develop my skill from availableresources such as: books, artist friends, online

tutorials etc. I kept drawing a lot and then re-alized that it’s not just a hobby for me any-more; it's love and obsession now.” How cananyone say it better than that? It is amazingthe emotions one feels whenever they arefalling in love with their future. Understand I’mnot lessening a college degree at all, and I en-courage everyone to further their education asthey see fit. What I am saying is before you

sacrifice that much time and ef-fort in something make sure it’swhat you love to do, becauseyou may spend the rest of yourlife in a place where you neverwanted to be. Looking atAsuka’s artwork you can seethe patience, detail and adora-tion for art that he instills intoeach piece. One thing thatstood out to my team which Ibrought up earlier is how ex-

pressive the rich colors in his art are, some-how the deep blues, bright greens, vibrantreds and humming yellows all work under hisskilled eyes to produce a conglomerate ofstriking visuals. “I think my artwork is a wayfor me to confess my feelings and emotionswithout saying a word. Since I'm shy and don'ttalk too much in real life. I love work that isbeautiful with powerful messages that canreach to the audience.” For being only

Name : Patipat Asavasena ( ASUKA111 )Birthdate : 22/02/1984Title : Freelance ArtistResident : ThailandProfession : Illustration, Painting, and Concept artWeb: www.asuka111.net

Time and Space by Asuka111

Colour helps to express light, not the physical phenomenon, but the only

light that really exists, that in the artist's brain. Henri Matisse, 1945

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The ‘Black Lady’ by Patipat Asavasena is one of my favorite pieces from him, not only be-cause of the flowing onyx hair, and crystal blue eyes of the character but because of herpresence. When looking at this you see her surrounded by darkness on either side as if theshadow wishes to attach itself to her black attire. The most interesting thing about this is itseems as if the light and not the darkness is encaging her, as if she is trapped and spotlighted in the intense glow of the aura. This character actually appears to be uncomfortablein the light and with a slightly cocked head she peers at her opposition.


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twenty-six the artistic motivation and visionthat Asuka has discovered for himself is onethat will last long after he is gone. He statesin the text above that he confesses throughhis work, which to me isbrilliant, being able to useart as a confessionary isone of the great thingsabout free expression.Many people seek toconfess their sins, loves,loss, and life through aplethora of mediumswhether through anotherperson, an altar, loudmusic or haunting si-lence. Artists around theworld also lay down theirproblems, and suc-cesses, but in a way thatvisually and lyrically par-alyzes its viewers.Asuka’s work inspires asense of beautiful fantasythat captures the soul from a body and intro-duces it to a parallel world of color and fluid

motion. All of the things that make up Papi-pat Asavasena you can experience in thework he creates, from his shyness to his con-fessional feelings. All of these things com-

bine to make a powerfulartistic style and all aroundgreat person. I admire howmuch strength his artworkholds, while at the same timethey are as gentle as a friend’shelping hand. When an artistunderstands who he or she is,it is in that moment that a cer-tain style emerges; he hasfound that style.

To follow the work of this artistor to buy his new artbook‘Everyday Fantasy’ visit hiswebsite www.asuka111.net

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A Colorless by Asuka111

The Manikin’s Portrait by Asuka111


20Walkingblind Magazine

Great art is not hard to find but it is very often hard to describe.There are artists who fall very easily into categories: sculptor,painter, sketch artist and so on. But then, on the rarest of oc-

casions, one stumbles across an artist that is so different, so spectac-ular there are no words to describe their style and no one categorywithin which to place their work. These are the truly amazing artists,the ones that astound us with breath-taking views of their compositionsand this artist, Amalacan, is one of them! There is no category suitedto hold the body of his work as it is in a class by itself and without rival.There is a lot I could say about Amalacan but I am afraid I could notdo him justice so as I step out of the way allow me to present to you


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Amalacan on Amalacan! I wanted to be a painter when I was young and createdworks by a traditional technique. However, I felt limited in my ability to create thevision that I expected and wanted, so I was separated from creating for a reallylong period. About 14 years ago, a computer was introduced into my workplacewhich made it possible using 3D software. I was very attracted to this freedom ofexpression and became inspired to create art again. “Surrealism Art” and “Fan-tastic Realism” have made a great influence on me and I especially admire thepaintings of Dali, Ernst Fuchs and H.R. Giger. Their great visions are my indicatornow. I have various favorite images stored to my memory that become hints. An-tique machines, armor, beetles, skeletons, old portrait photos.....They are mysteri-ous material that make my fantasy amplified. I blow up imagination while

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assembling those images. I enjoy that time very much. My artis a complex work composed of a lot of detailed modelingparts. I use the PC which was equipped with Core i7 to dorendering of the heavy data file. The digital image is pro-duced by a 3D application "Shade" and "Photoshop". I ac-quired my skill by self-education while taking advantage ofmy spare time wisely. Perhaps the best teacher may havebeen several good books on paintings which I possessed. Imake digital art with the sense that solves the jigsaw puzzle.I collect fragmentary images that are the sources of inspira-tion for my imagination, and assemble them carefully. During

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the production process my works repeat the transfor-mation and grow like the ecdysis of insects. Such un-predictable transformations stimulate my curiosity, andlead me to answer to the mysterious puzzle. Recently,my art work has been featured in the field of VisionaryArt and Surreal Art. My work was exhibited at "CAR-NIVORA: The Dark Art of Automobiles" with the art-works of H.R. Giger, Beksiński and Hajime Sorayama...two years ago. I received the "animago" and "CGChoice award", it was a great honor for me. Amalacanis truly in a class by himself and it was our privilege tofeature his work in this issue. Please visit this artist onthe web at: http://www.h6.dion.ne.jp/~m.mirage/

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The Armed Meiden by Almacan


“ There is nothingthat cannot beachieved by firmimagination ”

Located in the beautiful

Japanese landscape, set-

tled within the coastal

town of Yokohama you will

find a population of 3.6 mil-

lion people going about their

daily lives. It takes a lot to

stand out in such a large

populace but it’s not impossi-

ble.

Just create whimsical worlds full of happymechanized creatures, fill the fantasywith a race people that interact harmo-niously and presto you will stand out inthe crowd. One artist who has achievedsuch status is Shingo Matsunuma other-wise known as “Shichigoro”. In hisworlds pigs do fly along side happy airsurfing whales and in the broaderscheme of things we see his charactersto a depth that other artists do not alwaysafford us. Shichigoro’s characters notonly allow us to see things on the surfacebut also deep within, right down to thevery high octane machines that drivethem. At thirty- three Shichigoro’s style isproprietary and unique with an appealthat tantalizes viewers of all ages to pon-der the many facets and layers of his sur-

Welcome to the surreal world of Shingo Matsunuma


“I want manypeople to expe-rience myworks of art, Iwant someoneto use my art-works forsomething be-cause I wantto continue towork on art inthe future.”

real worlds. Learning oil painting at anuniversity of arts in Japan, he also begandrawing artwork with digital tools such asPhotoshop, and worked as a digital artistfor a game company. Shichigoro foundhimself inspired and motivated by manyvarious works in many genres such astraditional arts, movies, animated car-toons, and more. Shichigoro stated “Iwant to draw original art work that I imag-ine in my created world. In my worldthere is no fear; no fear of creatures andno fear of machines, just no fear!” Theinteraction of the inhabitants of Shichig-oro’s worlds is a testament to this state-ment, exampled in scenes where smallchildren ride joyfully upon the backs ofschool bus sized creatures and the crea-tures themselves present the smallest ofShichigoro’s mechanized humans withflowers. A truly peaceful existence is

portrayed and conveyed to the viewer

in a way that draws you in and leaves

you wanting to return over and over

again.

Hito-kikai-2 by Shichigoro

Kocchi by Shichigoro


Shichigoro draws every-

day to work on his art in

earnest. As he told Walk-

ingBlind “I want many

people to experience my

works of art, I want some-

one to use my artworks for

something because I want

to continue to work on art

in the future.” This is a

profound statement by

Shichigoro; art, if it is to

be preserved, must be

viewed and appreciated.

An artist without an audi-

ence is an out of work

artist. When you see

Shichigoro’s work for the

first time you will be

amazed at the depth at

which his images present

themselves. The smooth-

ness of tone and the intri-

cate detail along with the

stark contrast of light and

shadow all blend together

perfectly to form a rich

context with which to let

the mind wander in this

rich cornucopia of fan-

tasy. The body of work he

has produced demands to

be viewed and visited over

and over again, as once is

not enough to take in all

that his many surreal

worlds have to offer.

There is a sublime power

in the style while at the

Welcome to a world without fear

Give a Flower by Shichigoro

I Want by Shichigoro


same time a softness that per-

meates the creatures making

even the largest of his charac-

ters extremely approachable,

and aproach we must.

Shichigoro is currently study-

ing English to better commu-

nicate with a broader

audience. We hope to see

more from this artist very

soon and were very honored

to have Shichigoro as our

cover artist for this second

issue, when we saw it we new

it was the perfect image to

represent WalkingBlind this

month and we send many

thanks to Shichigoro ing for

allow us to publish his work.

We at Walkingblind want to encourage all our read-

ers to visit Shichigoro’s galleries frequently as well

as all our featured artists.

Shichigoro can be found several places on the web at

the following locations: http://www.shichigoro.com/

on http://shichigoro756.deviantart.com/ and on:

http://www.loftwork.com/user/14208/

Hito-Kikai-4 by Shichigoro

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Cyril Rolando is one of those mul-titalented artists that you hearabout only in fairytales, the firstthing that comes to mind when

you meet him and run your eyes over hiswork is “Dude you can draw!” then aftertalking to him for a couple of minutes younotice something slightly different…he’salso a poet. Some of you out there areprobably grabbing for a baseball bat andtrying to find out who I am so you can takeme out, but I’m not kidding for every won-derful piece of art you see there is anequally outrageous poem that fits the moodof the artwork perfectly. Cyril has found away to capture with color and words whatsome people couldn’t tell you with their ownbody language; I am both excited and en-thralled as an appreciator of the arts and a

Digital Artist31

Blowing bubbles

Too much water,but you can't stop the flow,getting absorbed in your work.

Too many desires,but you can't stop the walk,flooded by the law and order.

Sometimes, you feel like a goldfish, blowing bubbles in a tiny bowl, but you can't stop. Dream on.

writer to have his work among thepages of WalkingBlind. I askedhim about his aspirations for his artand his reply was: “I express themost intimate and attuned connec-tion to my life with my art". For ex-ample, the drawing called ‘SaveOur Souls’, one of my first draw-ings (I was a psychology studentwhen I drew it) matches the idea Ihad of my future work. ‘CollectLost Bottles’ depicts messagesfrom unknown people needinghelp in a tormented sea, I try to

read these messages, understandthe riddles and help them reachthe shore safely. My art is a purehobby. I just draw to keep on fillingmy gallery year after year, and beable to see the evolution of myway of thinking.” Wanting his art-work to communicate the solutionto problems embedded into thehuman psyche has to be one ofthe most generous goals an artistcan have. I have never thoughtthat the study of psychology andartwork could merge to create

such good for people, but as Cyrilhas pointed out it can be used as aninstrument of care and understand-ing. I was simply awe-struck by hiswords, art is seen in many ways asa lot of us already know, but howmany other ways is art presented tothe world that we don’t know of?One thing you notice from Cyril’s artis his style, curious about what hethought of his technique I queriedhim: “I never went to art school soit's hard for me to express whatcould be my "style". I try to be origi-

A golden wind will sweep your

clouds away if you have a word

with the sunshine about it.

Blowing Bubbles by Cyril Rolando

Solar Symphonies by Cyril Rolando


nal, I like otherworldly theory andsurrealism, but it's impossible forme to say if I have a style and itsorigin. I tried to draw on oekakiboards, then on photoshop... butnothing really ambitious.” We haveto disagree with the artist here, hehas an amazing artistic eye with astyle all his own to follow. I oncesaw him critique a piece of hiswork that he wasn’t too happyabout and from his scrutinization of‘strange compositions’ and ‘lack ofvisual depth’ which I personally

though were spot on; I knew thatthis person held a high standard.His words made us determined toshow him that he does have an artstyle and we didn’t know how todo that until I asked him about hismotivation for art. “Emotion andcolor, both are the tools and mo-tive I wish to draw with. Water ismy favorite element, because itscolor depends on the environmentand it can express many feelings(anger, coolness, dream.) So, col-ors like blue, purple and green are

my favorite because they bring theidea of coldness, wisdom and cre-ativity. I wish to take a stand, polit-ically, but I think it's a risk. InJanuary 2009 I wanted to drawsomething about the Israeli Pales-tinian conflict, without taking thepart; it's a hard exercise with onlyone image.” After reading his state-ment I found myself exploring hisvisual art and poetry once more tofind that common link that bondthem to their creator and I saw thatconnection in color and emotion

They put pawns on the market,nothing seems to checkmate,we dance on a cheese board.

A new year party has begun,we see the same chicken run,still sentenced to be ignored.

It's the best part of the meal,"say cheese" to the new deal,this is a game you can't afford.

They control us like pieces,at the rate of the increases,it's played on a chessboard.

It's ok, I can manage,turning crisis into advantage,please, drag me into your mud,I will surf on a golden flood,and hug me.

It's ok, I'm not in misery,you are welcome to my gallery,your sorrow gives a good return,I really enjoy what I earn,and kiss me.

It's ok, give me my due,yeah, it was nice to meet you,keep on crying and come back,Indeed, my shop is a nasty crack,but love me. C'est la crise !

Cheese Players by CyrilRolando

Economic Crisis by Cyril Rolando


just like he had said. This artistforms dreamscapes within thedark pupils of his eyes and thenprojects that image onto a screenalong with incredible textures ofverse. The backbone of his styleseems to be rooted in the soil ofawareness, he wants people to beaware of their troubles, the world’shealth, government policy andmost importantly themselves; hischosen profession and influencestells us this. “I like the surrealismstyle and abstract world of Tim

Burton, Hayao Miyazaki andFrench novel authors such asBoris Vian and Albert Camus.”Cyril says “I like to play with theworld and change their meaningor sonority. Some points of theBurton's universe were a greatgate to my art connection opportu-nity. Everything seemed to be pos-sible when I was looking at theworld of his movies.” Seeing thatTim Burton is one of the peoplewho has made an impressionupon him explains the cool vibes

that roll off of his pieces like a fullhoneycomb. Also the French nov-elists Mr. Vian and Mr. Camuswere both great writers narratorswith famous works such as “L'Éc-ume des jours” by Boris Vian and“Cross Purpose” by Albert Camus.With everything that Cyril Rolandoshared with us about himself andhis art I have no doubt that someof you will be venturing to his web-site so to see more of this awe-some artist visit sixio.free.fr

" Demain soufflera le vent de demain”

Breathe Me by Cyril Rolando


For heavyhearted girls only,

Attempt #1 : The heart alleviation

Overview:

Make two solid wings and stop the internalbleeding, if need be. An adult need not be pres-ent.

Equipment:

1. Some sheets of paper or pieces of cardboard: A4 size .2. An adhesive tape.3. A pair of scissors.4. A felt-tip pen (black or colored, asyou wish).

Safety:

Scissors are sharp.. treat appropri-ately. Avoid doing the process ifyou are crying, the adhesive tapeeffect could be ineffective oncontact with salt water.

How to proceed :

1. On the support, draw a rough wing ofmodest size (15x20 cm). If you have diffi-culties doing the form, search on GoogleImages with the keywords " wing heart "and print your favorite. It's not necessaryto do the second wing for the moment.

2. Cut up the form and put the wing on thesupport. If you choose the cardboard, it willbe easier but less aesthetic. Draw the out-line to transfer the model. Take about tensheets of paper (or 2 pieces of cardboard)and cut up to obtain a solid piece of paper.

You need to reinforce with the adhesivetape.

3. Turn over the model and re-peat the same process to get thesecond wing. Once you aredone with it, fix the wings onyour heavyheart with the adhe-sive tape. After 10-15 minutes,you will feel lighter.

4. It is possible your heartmay keep on bleeding. Don'tworry about it, you canmake repair patchs quicklyusing the adhesive tapeas sticking plaster.

Fix

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Traditional Art

During my artistic

travels I like to

gather souvenirs to

bring back from the

land of Wacom tablets and

acrylic paints, this time I think

I may have outdone myself. I

cannot think of anyone more

suited to open up the section of

traditional artists other than

twenty-eight year old Annie

Stegg. When I first encoun-

tered Annie’s work I was not

ready for the intense beauty

and depth that her paintings

held, I was blown away and

brought back again by the

uniqueness of her skill. Need-

less to say I spent hours gazing

Annie Stegg


work, and thankfully, the owner liked it. He

had a blank space in the gallery, and hung it.

From there I received many commissioned

painting offers. And eventually, I was allowed

a section of the gallery for my works. I met a

variety of people working there, and started

doing other aspects of art as well. Logo de-

signs, websites, and clothing design. I was

gradually able to build my portfolio and web-

site, and from there, get other job offers.” Her

answer should show all of you that hard work

really does pay off. It is very motivating to see

a good artist such as Annie Stegg moving up

the artistic ladder because it goes to inform

us all that elbow grease is still a form of cur-

rency and I’m sure that Annie has put a lot

of it into her work. I am sure that Annie

would like me to encourage all of the

readers who aspire to reach their

goals to follow through with any-

thing that needs to be done in

order to grab them. As you

can see I am very excited to

have Annie within the pages

of WalkingBlind; not only is

she inspiring, she is an ad-

mirable artist. One painting of

hers that I must talk about is

‘Black Moor’ I have gazed at this

piece over the last few days more

than I’ve looked at myself in the mirror.

There are a number of details that impress

me, one of which is the color of the skin, early

on I noticed that this artist has a really good

technique of making skin appear so real, you

can see the creamy peaches mixed lightly

with other hues that make up a color and

texture that is very striking. More details in-

clude the positioning of certain things such

as the beautiful fish one of which is looking

at her work, exploring every color and facet

wondering where she had gotten such a

magical style from. I never knew until

that moment how much an ab-

solutely gorgeous piece of work

could touch the human soul.

How she uses the richness of

color and fantasy seen in her

art in order to accurately

communicate her desired

meaning is both spot on and

amazing, coming across this

artist was like bumping into a

goldmine; something a person

only does once in a lifetime. After

gawking at her work I switched my

brain back on long enough to ask her

about her introduction into the arts: “I have

been doing some form of art my entire life.

I started professionally by working in a

gallery/frame shop selling paintings while I

was attending art school. Being around so

much art was very inspirational. I started

painting more and more at home, after

work and school. Eventually, I had the con-

fidence to bring one of my paintings into

The striking beauty and elegant

quality of such work stuns its

audience into a reverent silence

as the art itself has the floor,

and it sings.

Black Moor by Annie Stegg


up at the girl almost curi-

ously while another almost

fastens itself like a bow

against her onyx hair. The

hand is a very dramatic

touch I find it to be both shy

and coy at the same time as

the girl’s nails slightly im-

print into the side of her

slightly blushing cheek. The

most alluring aspect without

question is the eyes, they are

like two inky pools of dark-

ness that begin to suck the

viewer into the painting, bit

by bit you are brought into

the world of the ‘Black Moor’

without any direction to

where you are going. I was

quickly caught by them and

held captive until a force

stronger than her eyes

known as hunger beckoned

me away. After a while of

staring at it, this painting be-

comes family and it feels as

though you know the girl

surrounded by fish, flowers

and the world held prisoner

in her eyes. With so much

awesome work to look

through I found myself ask-

ing her about the major influ-

ences of her art. “Both my

“Love of beauty is Taste. The creation of beauty is Art.”

Catfish by Annie Stegg

Th

e W

ild S

wa

ns b

y An

nie

Ste

gg

- Ralph Waldo Emerson


Autumn Rose by Annie Stegg

grandparents are artists and

my father teaches art, so I

grew up around it, and it was

highly encouraged. My favorite

illustrator is Brian Froud. His

creations are imaginative and

unique, and rendered beauti-

fully. I especially love his

creature designs.” Having an

artistic family must be a very

good plus for an artist, one of

the best things any person can

have is a body of people who

understands them and I be-

lieve it is much better to have

those people be relatives. I am

glad that Annie mentioned

Brian Froud as her favorite il-

lustrator he is extremely tal-

ented an well known, he also was the

concept artist for ‘The Dark Crystal’

(1982) and ‘Peter Pan’ (2003) both of

which are great movies. With such a well

rounded artist like Ms. Stegg is there

any doubt that we will be seeing more of

her in the near future? There is no doubt

in my mind that this artist reputation to

stun is her audience is just beginning.

Good news for Annie Stegg’s admirers is

that her pieces are on sale on her web-

site at AnnieStegg.com I have been there

plenty of times to view her work and the

prices on her pieces are very reasonable.

Having the ability to share a vision with

people is incredibly satisfying as an

artist. When I am able to translate an

idea or theme onto canvas or paper ex-

actly how I envisioned it, there is noth-

ing more rewarding!

Sle

ep

ing

Be

au

ty by A

nn

ie S

teg

g

Carmine Flower by Annie Stegg


Ten

eb

rou

s Em

pre

ss by A

nn

ie S

teg

g



Did you ever

notice there are

some people

that just seem to have the ability

to do just about anything? I

mean they are like a Swiss army

knife, no matter what they set out

to accomplish they just do it well

and usually with great style.

Lau

ra B

ifan

o

In this article you will meet such a

person, from general illustration to

fine art, Laura Bifano seems to pos-

sess unlimited resources upon which

her imagination uses to create her

amazing style of art. WalkingBlind

got up close and personal with Laura

in an email interview; so for the next

few minutes sit back, relax and meet

the artist who can truly do it all! -I've

been into art ever since I was four or

five. I originally started drawing be-

cause of my sibling rivalry with my

older brother. I found out that art

was the one thing I could upstage

him at, and then I just sort of stuck

with it ever since. I was always a shy

kid and I've felt the most comfortable

hunched over a sheet of paper. My

parents always made sure I had easy

access to a ton of art supplies. So

growing up, we were always encour-

aged to draw and paint.. I was very

influenced by the dream like and al-

legorical imagery of the symbolist

movement. Artists like Edvard Mun-

Walkingblind Magazine

45

sch, Carlos Schwabe, and Fernand

Khnopff use shape and color in a way

that is still surprising and relevant

even today. And of course, NC Wyeth

and Bernie Fuchs are masters of com-

position and color. Those guys use an

economy of rendering and brush-

strokes that if any one else tried would

be either completely overdone or just

sloppy. Seeing the exciting things that

my peers work on always motivates me

to keep working and experimenting. I

never know where my inspiration will

come from next, but I generally try to

keep myself interested in lots of differ-

ent things. I received my education at

the Alberta College of Art and Design.

It was an incredibly challenging and

rigorous program that not only taught

us to quickly ideate and execute fin-

ished pieces, but also to art direct our-

selves. I graduated in 2008 and

transitioned into working as a concept

and storyboard artist for a few studios

in Calgary. In 2010 I made the transi-

tion to full time freelancer. Lately I've

Brainocorns by Laura BifanoL

otu

s Ea

ter b

y La

ura

Bifa

no


46

Cacophony by Laura Bifano

Young Bride by Laura Bifano

been working more towards the fine

arts world rather than illustration,

and recently had my first solo

show entitled "Cacophony" in Vic-

toria BC at the Boucherat Gallery.

My fascinations with fashion, space

travel, nature, music, myth, and

story all influence my finished

pieces. I also find that sitting in a

coffee shop for a couple hours

studying and sketching people can

be pretty inspirational. You have to

be subtle about it though, other-

wise people tend to get creeped out.

Ultimately I create for the pure ki-

netic joy of feeling the brush on

paper. The desire to dive into creat-

ing a finished piece without putting

the work of research, thumbnails

and media experiments can be

tempting, but almost never results

in something as polished or refined

as a fully fleshed out, realized

image. Learning to love the

process of illustration was a chal-

lenge at first, but eventually I came


47

Deluge by Laura Bifano

Mo

od

Sw

ing

s by L

au

ra B

ifan

o

to love the pre-development as much

as creating the finished piece. My

process is fairly straight forward: For

the image "Cacophony" I had a rough

idea of what I wanted to do, and began

with some thumbnails and research

sketches. Usually I just fool around in

my sketchbook until I have a composi-

tion that feels right, then I scan it in to

photoshop at around 300 dpi. Once it's

in the computer, I'm free to move, scale

and re-arrange elements as I see fit.

Nothing too refined or fleshed out, but

I like to have an indication of the over-

all tone and mood so I'm not figuring

that out on the paper itself. From there

I'll do a graphite transfer into a gessoed

piece of 300 weight Arches hot press

watercolor paper. My painting progress

is detailed more in this blog post: you

can visit me there at: ttp://laurabi-

fano.blogspot.com/2009/11/cacoph-

ony.html

48


Rob ReyRob ReyTimeless Traditional Art



Maintaining that inquisitive mind that drives ed-

ucation and growth, he hopes to make pictures

that speak and inspire. To have this impact,

Rob's work must contain some important as-

pects. It may be beauty, grace, elegance, secrecy

or sorcery. It may be the evidence of the human

hand in creation. Whatever it is, there must be

enchantment, some allure that invokes in the

viewer a feeling of connection to the mystery of

the universe, to the enigma of the unconscious.

Acquaintance with this mystery, and its inherent

subjectivity, guides each of us to understand the

error of our own righteousness and bigotry, help-

ing us to live together more peacefully. There are

things, hopefully many, that make each of us feel

alive in the greatest sense of the word. Through

these things we gain a greater understanding of

our selves and a more balanced view of the world

around us. For Rob, art is among the most pow-

erful of these things, accompanied by nature,

people and new experience.

This is Rob Rey, an awesome traditional artist we

found meandering around the web minding his

own artwork, until he was found by one of the

staff; by the time we had seen all of the art on his

website I immediately contacted him and asked

him if I could conduct a short interview by email.

He eagerly accepted our proposal and here he is

hanging out with the rest of the artists sharing

his time and parts of his story, welcome to the

art of Rob Rey.

What do you want to do with your art?

I want to improve the world. Who knows if I'll ever

have the chance to have any kind of influence at

all, but that's what I want to do. That may just

mean to create beauty and enjoyment for other

people or it may mean something of more social

impact. I want to create art that makes people

question. Question the world around them, but

more importantly question themselves. To make

people look deeper within themselves to work

through their own personal psychological trou-

bles. The famous psychoanalyst, Carl Young,

Rob grew up with an inquisitivemind in a suburb north ofChicago. After high school hespent a summer hiking theAppalachian Trail from Maine

to West Virginia. He studied at the Rhode Is-land School of Design and graduated in2006 with a BFA in Illustration. Rob cur-rently resides in Providence, Rhode Island,where he works continuously to improve hisskills and clarify his voice.

Tre

e F

airy b

y Ro

b R

ey

Dislo

catio

n b

y Ro

b R

ey

Ea

gle

Trib

e b

y Ro

b R

ey51


came to the understanding that mythology plays

an important role in our psychological well being.

Through myth we are directed through the pass-

ing stages of our lives and we come to know more

intimately, our own psychological self, both the

good and the bad. Without this understanding hu-

mans are prone to project their own short comings

onto others, using them as a scapegoat. So by en-

gaging viewers with story telling and mythology I

hope to help people live more peacefully with one

another.

Where did your style develop from?

My style developed from a deep love of the appear-

ance of oil paint. I knew early in my artistic en-

deavors that oil was the medium I wanted to use

and I devoted all my time to it. The soft edges that

blur into each other, the seemingly random mis-

takes that add life to an image, these fuel my pas-

sion for beauty, to me oil exemplifies the most

beautiful visual occurrences in nature and that is

what I strive to put into my work.

What motivates you as an artist?

This may be redundant, but beauty is my first mo-

tivation and it is followed by the desire to make a

positive difference in the world. The desire for

beauty motivated me to learn painting skills and

the skills that I have now somewhat acquired, mo-

tivate me to use them for a good purpose.

Who or what influenced your art?

Well, the easy answer is everything, and it's true.

But, to put a finer point on it, many great artists

and people have been major influences on me and

my art. I had the good fortune to spend a short

while studying with one of my favorite illustrators,

Jon Foster. Jon was very helpful, friendly, and

owe him a great deal for it. I am also influenced

by many more artists that I have not had the

chance to study with. A short list includes Jeffery

Jones, Phil Hale, Rick Berry, Gregory Manchess,

James Jean, Richard Schmid, Malcolm Liepke,

Zhaoming Wu, J. C Leyendecker, John Singer Sar-

gent, John White Alexander, Nicolai Fechin, N. C.

Wyeth, Dagnan-Bouveret, John William Water-

house, Alphonse Mucha, and Joseph Clement

Coll. There are of course many more, but as I said,

that's a short list. Others have had a profound in-

fluence on my thinking including Joseph Camp-

bell the comparative mythologist, Carl Jung the

analytic psychologist, and several of my teachers

at the Rhode Island School of Design, Shanth En-

jeti, Fritz Drury, Fred Lynch, and more. Visually,

I find the powers of observation in nature to be a

never ending source of interest.

Find Rob at RobReyArt.com

Ru

salka

by R

ob

Re

yS

corch

er b

t Ro

b R

ey


55

The stifling shroud that

Hangs in the summer air

Brings burden to even

The simplest of acts.

Breaths come with difficulty,

As if drawn through plastic wrap.

Suddenly, the skies darken

And bring nature's merciful fury.

The air cools and a breeze

Rustles through the treetops,

Turning leaves over, exposing

Their pale underbellies.

This breeze, pregnant

With the scent of distant

Lakes, holds the promise

Of cool, wet relief.

Grape sized drops at first.

One, then another ... Sploosh,

Sploosh. Drops get smaller,

Falling now in raging sheets.

The breeze, now a cool, driving

Wind thrashes branches about

As the booming clap of Mother

Earth calls all to her relief.

I stand, arms outstretched

And head thrown back

In thanks as I am drenched

In her deliverance.

Deliverance

Deliverance by G. H. Monroe


G. M. Monroehttp://www.writerscafe.org/TheLonelyStranger

http://www.ghmonroe.com

“I am a 49 year old man who has has a metaphorical penin his hand seemingly forever. I wish that I could tell you amore exciting story about the inspiration for this poem.However the simple truth is that I was sitting on my porchwatching my little world around me change in preparationfor a thunder storm; the smells, the cooling of the air andthe trees. It was overwhelming to me ... so I wrote.”

G.H. Monroe’s poetry is in one word...real. When reading

the collection he has accumulated on Writerscafe you no-

tice how down to earth they really are, it is as if he has

found a way to make his poetic style as stable as the un-

moving ground we stand upon. It is these kinds of writers

that a young novice can look up to for support. Just like

in Monroe’s other poems, “Deliverance” rings with the

timbre of maturity that not many other writers can

match. His take on a common occurrence such as a

thunderstorm is so tangible that one can almost feel the

grape sized rain falling from the sky. Reading this piece

makes me want to experience the storm all over again

with his visuals in mind. “This breeze, pregnant /with the

scent of distant/ lakes” (Deliverance 4th stanza, l. 1-3)

This is one of the lines that really stood out to me due to

its sheer impact. In this one line we can feel the damp

wind on our flesh, smell the water, and taste the swamp

that the impregnated breeze embraced before dawning

our doors. So I will release you all to go check out his

other works and his book ‘That's My Story!” on his web-

site.


Dropped Dolls

i. like porcelain dolls, you always liked delicate things the most.

you breathed in my sea-glass ears when I asked you if that was

why you chose me, why you picked me out in a crowd of empty

bodies and rosy faces. you simply smiled and held my frail

hands, but my question was more than rhetorical.

(sometimes I think you like delicate things just because youcan break them.)

iii. you were delicate in ways only I could see, with spider-web

eyelashes and piano-key fingers, rolling over my spine, creating

melodies only we could hear. your rose-petal lips screamed that

you were stronger, but inside harsh-coloured words I found

your trembling fears, bedside secrets.

(I wouldn’t have broken you, even if God himself had offeredme the galaxies, like sparkling rubies in his palm.)

v. kissing you was like inhaling heroin, intoxicated whispers

lulling me to a dreamless sleep. and the lows are worth it for the

highs, and the tears are worth the smiles.

(we don’t quite fit society’s ideals, but I’ve always believed twowrecked halves can make a whole.)

vii. you will forever be the boy that broke me,

and I will forever be the girl that wasn’t good enough,

that didn’t smile enough to deserve yours.

when I asked if you regretted me, you traced my lips with dry

fingers. “at least you’re pretty.”

(you always said things were prettiest when shattered.)

Dropped Dolls by Jessica Moulaisson


Jessica Moulaissonbing-bam-boom.deviantart.com

“Jessica is a teenage girl living in Canada. Ever since shewas young, her passion for art was strong, and the waythat she expressed herself. She cannot see herself withouta pen or camera in hand, and believes her love for the artswill be carried throughout her life. The piece “DroppedDolls” can be interpreted in several different ways, depend-ing on the reader. It can be seen as illustrating human na-ture – how people so different from one another can still beso alike, the tendency to take for granted what has easilybeen gained, and the pain of loving someone who onlytreats you poorly and keeps you for all the wrong reasons.”

As always we here at WalkingBlind love to feature young

up and coming artists and Jessica Moulaisson is no differ-

ent. With a quickly developing poetic style and an ability

to make her poetry dance, Jessica’s verses will lead you

into a parallel universe where you can experience a new

world with her art as your guidelines. One thing I have

come to admire about this artist is that she really under-

stands how the reader consumes poetry, and with that

outcome in mind, she writes. As we see in her own words

above she says that her poem can be interpreted many

ways and then she goes on to explain how her audience

might come to a certain conclusion about the piece; that

alone takes a person with talent and a strong connection

with those who take the time to read her work. A lot of

people do not go for romantic type of poetry, but ‘Dropped

Dolls’ is about more than loving another person; I believe

it is about loving and honoring yourself first. A lesson that

takes years to learn lays beautifully encapsulate before

you, learn it, embrace it, and keep reading the poetry of

Jessica Moulaisson.


On the Verge of Tattered and TornCount up your sins –

Like you’ll actually repent.

What does your heart sing?

Your soul ferments.

We’re trying to breathe;

The remedy’s gone.

Our lungs in poison seethe.

Now we’re in the wrong.

You’re an awkward beauty;

Your rhythm’s your own.

I couldn’t hold a candle to you, truly;

Your reckless fire is shown.

The eleventh hour strikes.

We’re no closer than before.

I’m sick of all the old fights.

There’s nothing for us anymore.

The fire’s gotten cold, love,

I have no more passion.

What we have, it’s not enough.

Like waves, we’re crashing.

It hurts us now;

This love’s a physical pain.

Wear the hurt like a crown,

Your own badge of shame.

The words you speak,

It’s all blasphemy.

I’d rather you dead at my feet,

Than speaking these words to me.

We’re losing it all, too soon.

Your lies cut us deep.

All I have is the confidant moon,

As it lulls me into a false sleep.

Retreat to safer waters.

Let your crimes dissolve.

Your perfect guise falters,

And you are now absolved.

On the Verge of Tattered and Torn by Melissa Ushliyanage


A proverbial twist on my human mind,

My thoughts escape me.

This foreign concept of letting go,

Of giving in to hate,

Is my internal infliction.

Desperate crying, looking at a wounded sky;

I am bound to feign deceit.

My disillusioned ego berates me,

Torments me.

Am I worthy of such pride?

A splattering of images

Crammed into the existential bottle

And thrown to the sea of my confessions.

I am a soulless monster,

I am god's divine messenger,

I am valued and worthless.

I am a portrait of myself,

Lying to the mirror,

Clutching to the past of my wreckage.

My conquered grievance,

Holy savages,

Likens me to my heart.

I am my own eulogy.

Eulogy

Eulogy by Melissa Ushliyanage


Melissa Ushliyanagewww.writerscafe.org/xxblack_out

“Melissa Ushliyanage hails from Ottawa, Canada. At 18,she's a first year student hoping to get a degree in bothEnglish and law. She enjoys cheesy romance movies,walking around during the middle of the night, and shewill never say no to a white chocolate mocha. Melissa'swriting is often pulled from painful passion, whatever thatmight be, with words that hope to find something beauti-ful. On the Verge of Tattered and Torn was written in amoment of hurt. It was a pain I wasn't sure how to dealwith, but writing was the cure; helped get out the emotionand move on. Eulogy was written after reading countlessscenes about people at funerals. Friends and family al-ways got up to say something about the departed and Igot to wondering what if we could speak upon our owndeaths? What would we say about ourselves? Whatwould I say? Though it couldn't possibly capture all of me,the poem is a glance of who I was, the glimpse of who Icould be.”

The first thing that comes to mind when reading

Melissa’s work is...’This is what writing is all about’. The

intense, hard hitting, raw emotion that flows from the

pores of every letter speaks to you, telling you of the

story its creator fashioned it to display. Though some-

times the highly visual flowered verses are adored, there

must be a point when the audience wants direct pieces

that don’t prance, but sting. The two poems of hers that

are featured here bring reality to our kitchens, knocks its

readers off high horses while granting them time to heal.

Melissa Ushliyanage is the kind of writer that will agree

that the world is messed up and then ask you what you

plan to do about it. How can you not be utterly intrigued

by an artist with that kind of ‘lets get it done’ attitude?


The Rain

Trails of tears drip down the

towers built up from man’s

oppression.Their bricks laid in

quick succession.

Is silence the only living thing

in this world? So tangible- so

gentle.And yet can seem so

detrimental.

Love can feel so hateful,

Filled with a lack of solids.

In context, life can feel so

stolid.

But the light caress of the or-

ange blossomBlooming once

more Leaves all that’s painful

before

It can flourish into danger

Evil demons of downfall

Dredging up the squall.

In life, is death.

In life, is life.

No happiness without strife.

Without pain, there’s no pleas-

ure.Without pleasure, no pain.

And without the storm, no

soothing rain.

The Rain by Samantha Puchlerz


Roses are red,

Violets are blue.

The mockingbird’s dead,

Paled in Death’s hue.

Poppies breed crimson,

Carnations are pink.

A child’s an old woman

Grown in an eye blink.

The acacia’s golden,

Sways in 3/4 time

To the actions of men

Falling far out of line.

The lilacs are graying

“Black Prince’s” fall down.

Martyred for living

In a white world, colored

brown.

Not a Color of the Rainbow

Not a Color of the Rainbow by Samantha Puchlerz


Samantha Puchlerzhttp://taishikanakerashii.deviantart.com

“Samantha is a vocationally trained graphic artist and animpassioned writer; she has literally produced thousandsof designs for the industry since the age of 14. Now at 18she pursues a career as a professional musician in themetal genre. She will be attending the Berkeley Conserva-tory of Music with guitar and voice her specialties. Whenyou read Samantha’s writing you will immediately bestruck by the honest grass roots feel of her pieces as noemotion is held back. Writing with a concise and vivid dia-log her poetry can be very hard hitting at times while at oth-ers it can leave you filled with a great sense of euphoria.Samantha is very active in the arts, playing several instru-ments, painting, drawing prolifically and even sculpting onoccasion.

Currently she is headed in a few week to the New Or-leans area to gain insight on the music scene there and par-ticipate in several open mic nights while in the area. Wehear she is also looking forward to sampling some of thegreat and varied cuisine that a trip to New Orleans affords.Samantha is currently seeking a recording contract and haswon several live competitions for her style of music alongthe way. With many side projects she is always pushingthe envelope of what she is capable of and so far has en-joyed a fair amount of success for her endeavors.”


Want to see your work on the

pages of WalkingBlind..... so

would we! To submit art,

simply stop by our website at:

www.nevaehvision.com

or email :

[email protected]

We hope to see you here!

WalkingBlind Magazine

Livvy Carson

Fragments

It's the fragments that matter.

The dredging up the excess that hurts and figur-

ing out how to fit around it so that it's fixed or

forgotten and hoping like hell that everyone else

will pretend just as much as you do that it never

happened. It's tearing yourself open and ana-

lyzing all the parts and saying, no: no, that's

wrong. That's gone wrong somewhere along the

line, and it's the strength it takes to see it and it's

the strength to pick out all the bits which have

blackened and rotted and are slowly poisoning

you (all the pain from all the tears, all the hate

from all the fights, all the second-guessing you've

ever done) and say, no: I do not want this to be

my life any more. It's those little fragments of life

gone wrong which change everything. It's those

little fragments of life which you chose to move

on from which shows who you truly are. I used

to be scared of the dark: I was terrified. I was ter-

rified of the monsters under my bed and the

ghosts in the pipes and the demons in the floor-

boards but I grew up and that changed nothing.

It changed nothing because I found out about lies

and exclusion and the way it feels when it's like

no-one gives a damn about you. it changed be-

cause the monsters became my peers and the

ghosts became authority (they brushed straight

through me like I didn't exist) and demons be-

came the nameless, faceless people who judged

me simply because everyone else did, too. The

fears never went away: they just morphed and

mutated. It's the fragments that matter when you

know your friend sees your actions and not your

reasons but it's the fragments that matter when

you know someone else sees the reasons and

knows that the actions aren't a reflection of who

you are: it's just who someone else made you

into. I was meant to sparkle, but I don't; not any

more, I don't. there's a layer of dirt I have to live

with every day: dirt made up of the things I’ve

done wrong and memories of the people I’ve hurt

and of the people who've hurt me. things that

don't just get washed out of the character in the

shower.

The only thing that sparkles about me now is my

teeth and they will rip into you and they will tear

you to pieces because that's how I learned to sur-

vive; that's who I am, and if that's unacceptable

to you, then I don't need you (you never mattered

anyway). I’m a reckless wrecking ball of fury

when I get rolling and I’ll burn bridges and dig

holes and when I explode I cause damage so ex-

tensive it's irreparable and yet the person I’ve be-

come refuses to let me care. The only thing that

sparkles about me now is a razor-honed tongue

that slices and dices into you because if you're

less than I am, then I win - because that's what

I’ve been taught; that this is all just a competi-

tion, so don't you dare let me in, don't you dare

show me your weaknesses or your flaws. I will

destroy you if I’m backed into a corner and the

corner is only exists in my imagination so it's in-

escapable.

The only thing that sparkles about me now is my

fury and it's misdirected and misplaced but it's

how I finally found a way to cope and it's so well

honed and my words so refined, I can destroy

someone - I can destroy anyone, and the people

I know flaunt themselves before me because I

learnt to escape the attacks by starting the bat-

tles first: and so I learnt to cut down vulnerabil-

ities and yet the people who love me still love me,

and they've shown me theirs and I constantly

have to remind myself: do not do it; do not hurt

them. and it's a battle to back down every time.

The only thing that scares me now, I realize, is

myself - and that's not right. It’s the fragments

of the things that shouldn't have happened that

broke me. I know what it's like to suddenly trip

and stumble over yourself and to think, this isn't

right, this isn't who I was supposed to be. This

viciousness that's ingrained itself into my char-

acter: this was never meant to be me. I was never

meant to hate myself this much; I was never

meant to regret so much. I was never meant to

ache like this because of all these things that just

won't go away. But here's what I’m hoping: that

I can become my own surgeon; because the frag-

ments, as deeply ingrained and as poisonous as

they are - they're operable when I’ve figured out

the source of the fault. They're able to be ampu-

tated and they're removable and I can neutralize

the poison. The fragments are just fragments and

the whole is worth so much more than all of this.


Age: 19

Short Bio: "Livvy Carson was born and raised in a rural area of New Zealand, trav-

elling for both secondary and tertiary education and is currently studying for a de-

gree in Psychology. She is passionate about all literature, music, visual arts and

theatre, and frequently finds herself having deeply involved conversations on varying

philosophies, or how to achieve world domination. Despite her attempts at maturity,

she is a blatant adrenalin junkie with little regard to her personal safety, and more-

so, she's often found climbing trees or building sandcastles and is not above dress-

ing up in rabbit ears and fairy wings in public and cannot function without her

morning coffee.

"I wrote Fragments after having coffee with one of my friends and a long-winded dis-

cussion about my history. It's been colorful, and a lot of it has been terrible, and a

lot of what I have done reflects both of those things; but who I am now is not who I

was - and who I am now is not who I will be. Fragments reflects this: all the little

pieces which led me do things I now regret, and all the little pieces that are now

leading me to rectify such faults in my personality. I believe it's something a lot of

people can relate to, as many of us have felt obliged to do things we'd have otherwise

not done, be it out of necessity for social, physical or mental security - and most of

us will later come to regret bowing to the pressure. But Fragments is also about

knowing that you can fix yourself: you can diffuse the insecurities, or the memories,

and build a better life for yourself - because the bad things are just tiny pieces, and

everything else can be so beautiful if you just let it. It's about fighting for something

better, which I hope I've finally learned to do."


Arwa Shahzad

Chrysalis

I sat there in the abandoned restaurant, anx-

iously waiting for my partner to arrive. Time was

running short and it was getting dark outside.

While I was sitting, I marveled the caricature that

hung in front of me and kept poking my knife in

the cutlet, smothered in cheese, that I had or-

dered a few minutes ago. Omer and I grew up to-

gether in Islamabad. Though we were not much

of friends, I always found him around, particu-

larly when no one was supposed to be. One day,

while watching a children's musical show on TV,

we discovered we had a similar taste in music.

So inevitably, our friendship blossomed. Since

our parents were co-workers, we always showed

up at each other's places; listening and dancing

to music. We played Ludo and Monopoly and Uno

and he keenly cheated in them all. The first time

I made chocolate mousse, he spat it all out in

front of me. There are so many memories I

shared with him, ones I can never forget. Things

changed however when I turned 13 and moved to

Istanbul and our families completely lost contact.

Fortunately while I was doing my Bachelor's de-

gree, I found out he's in Lahore studying music

like me. Fate intervened and I had to travel back

to Pakistan when my grand father died. A couple

of days upon my arrival, my mother told me

Omer wants to meet up. I was thrilled.

I could hear an incessant tune from around.

Being a virtuoso, I was disgusted to hear how in-

competent the musician was. Not until I noticed

a faint shadow on my right, I kept doddling with

my cutlery. He stood there, arms akimbo, smiling

his childhood smile. 'Ordered the food already?' I

stood up to greet him. 'Heyyy!' I exclaimed. 'Gosh

I barely reach our shoulders!' He laughed as he

sat in front of me. He continued smiling until he

realized I was awkwardly blushing. 'I'm so glad

to see you!' he finally said. 'So am I, Omer,' I

smiled back. 'So, has the little Beethoven mas-

tered the art of music already?' I mocked after a

few minutes of obvious silence. 'Academically, I'm

still a graduate,' he winked as he poured himself

some water. I watched him as he gulped it down,

his Adam's apple loitering as he did. 'So how are

you? It's been such a long time, wow. I mean all

I remember is a fat, little girl who sang Barney

songs with me!' he said, putting down the goblet.

'Yeah well, things changed. She's making music

nowadays.' I answered. 'Not as good as the

little Beethoven does, eh?' he winked again and

reminded me of the little boy I used to play with. I

smiled at the thought. 'Maybe not. What instru-

ment are you skilled in?' 'Every one of them,

happy?' he raised an eyebrow and a tremor of

smile seized his lips. 'Oh! Very munificent of your

teacher. Mine taught me just 3.' I mocked and we

both laughed out aloud, grabbing the attention of

the waiter who cleaned the table next to ours. I

guess he smiled. 'Are you not going to order any-

thing?' I questioned. 'Not hungry.' 'Okay.' I put my

plate aside, clearing and making room to rest my

elbows.

For a second or two, silence surrounded our

auras. Then I looked at him. His eyes twinkled in

a very naughty manner. Competition, here it

comes. 'Play that piano for me,' he pointed to-

wards the large instrument at the corner. 'I think

they don't even let you touch it,' I made an excuse.

'Besides, I prefer flutes.' 'I do too,' he got up and

came over to me. 'But let us not be uncouth and

insolent towards the art we admire. 'The piano,

madame?' he grabbed my hand and like a gentle-

man, led the way to the piano. He cleared the seat

with his hand and invited me to sit. I sighed heav-

ily, to his least expectation and utmost disap-

proval. 'Fine, I'll go first,' he smirked and sat down.

'Just be patient,' he said. 'I won't disappoint you.'

Then his fingers began to trace a path on the keys,

as he lightly played his melody. As I started un-

derstanding his message, I leaned against the

case. I looked at him in awe. He ceased.

'This, is my favorite part. I have revered it from the

beginning of my learning. It brings back old mem-

ories to me,' he murmured. Then he began again.

I enamored his music more than he did and felt I

had been listening to it for years. 'I call it

'Chrysalis'. It tells me what I am yet to become,

Arwa.' he whispered. Yet to become after tonight,

I thought. He smiled, as if he heard me. Heard me

understand his message. When it ended, he

sighed and looked up at me like a young, innocent

child. 'Thank you,' he said. I smiled and pro-

ceeded towards the seat, as he made place for me

to sit next to him, allowing me to play my version

of his 'Chrysalis'; the song of our childhood to-

gether.


Age: 16Short Bio: I'm a college going student from Pakistan. I read and write avidly; play

table tennis; sketch and enjoy Latin music. Nothing about me is particular, I am so

unique, just like everybody else. Most of my works can found on http://www.writ-

erscafe.org/arwashahzad and http://arwashahzad.blogspot.com What motivated

me to write the featured piece was music. Music has always inspired our lives. This

story 'Chrysalis' is based on the fact how music, being the food of love, slowly re-

builds the affection between a young couple. I wrote this story while giving my GCE

English Language exam an year ago. The love of music and the art of love trans-

formed my thought in this piece of writing..


K.H. Phoenix

Dream Catcher

To be a dreamer, don't be afraid to fall. because

you should know that at some point, you must

always stop falling, but there is no limit to how

high someone can fly. to be a dreamer, be able to

tell the difference between nightmare and reality

with only the slightest touch. to be a dreamer,

sleep with a dream catcher dangling by your

head so that when you wake, you can gather all

your bad dreams and turn them golden. to be a

dreamer, know the pain of reality and its

painfully apparent differences with your day-

dreams, and know that the two can never be one

and the same. But that doesn't mean to stop

dreaming. I have never stopped dreaming. I have

never stopped reaching out for that perfect fan-

tasy place where I am the person that I have al-

ways wanted to be and I am strong and

independent and never afraid of pain. not even

after the day I scribbled down those dreams furi-

ously onto a piece of paper, only to find that they

could never ever be true and crumpled the paper

up and shredded it and turned my back on it. be-

cause when I looked back at my desk, the im-

prints of my writing were still embedded in the

next sheet of paper. At night, most dreams are

forgotten within a few minutes of awakening. but

the ones that really matter, the ones that give me

hope and keep my love for fantasy alive are the

ones that I can't forget, even if I tried.

I’m still scared of heights, though. standing at

the top of the skyscraper, I won't even stray

within a few feet of the edge. because saying I’m

not scared of falling is totally different from actu-

ally being it. and people tend to tell lies, even to

themselves, if only to console their uneasy souls

for a short while. lies are like spider webs,

though; strangely resilient, especially if well-

woven, but still easily ripped away by a human

hand. But if I did fall, at least I can dream a para-

chute saving my life. They say I should get my

head out of the clouds, but I just so happen to

like where I am right now. I can look up and see

the vast expanse of stars and the moon and the

galaxy and all of a sudden it's right there where I

can just brush it with my fingertips. Then I can

look down, but see only white puffs of liquid

nothing that block my view of that earth that

pulls me away from the constellations. what I

would give to live the lives of the heroes in the

books. At least I can dream about it.

When I’m asked what I want to be when I grow

up, I say that I’m still not sure. but the truth is,

all I want is to still have the capacity to dream.

To still be able to close my eyes and weave the

shining dream-threads together to create a world

of fantasy, so absurd and different from earth

that it is my favorite place in the universe. But

there is a sacrifice to growing up, to gaining

knowledge of the way things work. With the facts

of science and mathematics pounded into my

head over and over and over again; the hammers

of the textbooks beat the nails of the facts deep

into my mind, piercing through those fantasies

that are really, really, just so painfully impossi-

ble. why can't I be a child forever? Swathed in in-

nocence and happiness and knowing only

unicorns that give you horseback rides and drag-

ons that take you for a fly across the sky. When

I grow up, I still want to be a dreamer.

Close your eyes; can you see it? Do those tiny

dots of neon color swirl around and around, spi-

raling you into a whole other world? Or do you

only see blackness, scarred too badly by reality

that all hopes of dreaming are hideously done

away with? Sleep now; can you see it? a world

that your unconscious self walks, chased by

monsters and villains but saved by the most per-

fect man that could ever exist. can you see that?

My dreams; they're fading. the clutter of life and

the constant burden of reality have worn them

away. But I would die for these escapes, because

they offer a vision of a different life, a brief respite

from my real one, which only stands on the weak

bricks of memories. So as long as I am alive, able

to think, able to breath and eat and walk and

sleep and dream then to life, fate, destiny, or

whatever the hell's out there; you can throw any-

thing at me. challenge me. Break my heart, make

me laugh, starve me, make me rich, I don't care.

I don't care. because even if I fail in reality, I can

always dream that I have succeeded. Because for

me and my soul made out of spider silk and star-

dust, that is enough.


Pride

I’m not bipolar, I’m just terrified. of what, I can't

say. but I’d rather give you a generalization be-

cause with them, I have a smaller chance of being

wrong. You wonder why in the daytime I’m all

laughs and smiles and a never-ending supply of

happy. You ask me how anyone, especially me,

can be just so filled with cheer and for what, for

what do I smile for? In response, I laugh, not

mockingly, but not nicely either. I tell you that

you still can't read people even when they're wide

open and the words written on their souls are

right in front of your eyes. I tell you that you

still can't hear that half of my laughs are fake,

and that half of my smiles are miles from reach-

ing my eyes. Just for the sake of enlightening (or

maybe comforting) you, I tell you something else.

I tell you that I’m not, in fact, as bubbling with

joy as others may think. I tell you that at night, I

cry into my pillow so no one but me can hear the

sound. I don't wipe away my tears because then

I’ll be able to feel the trails they carve on my

cheeks even after they have fallen from my face.

I tell you that I release all the feelings I don't dare

release in front of anyone else, that I repeat my

deepest, darkest, most terrifying secrets to myself

in my head over and over and over again until the

voice of my thoughts cracks and I let myself be

taken by the supposed peace of sleep, but really,

my dreams are conquered by nightmares of los-

ing the ones I love in the worst possible ways,

that includes you, you know.

Somehow, those two sides of me can be squished

and pounded together into one person, one

human. the line between those two raw emotions

is thin and smudged and so confusing that I

don't know how far I can go before crossing over

it. You look at me in a way that tells me that you

don't know what to say, and that's right: you

shouldn't. No one ever does, when I tell them

about how I feel, so I just stopped telling people,

until you, of course. Between the destruction

that night brings to me, and the smallest com-

forts that the day comes with, I am left with the

one thing in me that I can always count on: pride.

I am prideful, if nothing else. I am prideful; I hate

to be wrong, I love to be right, but somehow I al-

ways find myself being stuck with maybes. I am

prideful; I hate to lose, I love to win, but I try to

never gloat because I know there might be other

people like me. Because of this, I don't venture

farther than the things I already know, for fear of

falling into a pit. I’m not sure if I’m scared of the

falling, or just the embarrassment that will follow

it. maybe both. I don't take risks, because with a

risk comes the chance of losing; but at the same

time, without those risks, I can never win. so

where does that leave me? I admit to you: I’m

scared of living, because I’m absolutely terrified

of bruising that pride that I hold so dearly to me.

my frequent laughs of the day don't make a life;

my desolate tears of the night don't make a life. I

tell you that instead of living, I just exist, which

has never been enough for me but I’m just so

scared to go beyond that. I don't live, so I don't

lose. I tell you this because it is the truth, and

the truth is right - and hey, isn't that exactly

what I always want?

I hear those songs on the radio about living like

tomorrow's going to be my last day, but how?

how do I? I’ve spent all the years of this life hud-

dled in the shadow of my limited knowledge of

life, just enough for me to survive. I have told my-

self that this is enough for me, because this is

safe, and I like safe. All those lies I have told my-

self, they're all wrong. but I can never admit that

to myself, never mind admitting it to you. Your

eyes are blank, but I can tell that you're trying to

read me. and I open up my mind to you, as if

your eyes could pierce into its very depths. I open

my mouth to ask you that one thing I’ve been

wanting to ask you from the moment I met you.

You, that person who took me and held me, de-

spite my flaws and my phobias and my pride. But

that question of desperation never leaves my

mouth. why? because of my pride.

But I think it, I think it so hard because I know

that no one besides me knows my thoughts, so

with them, I can never be humiliated. and as if

you, for once, can actually sense it, you ask me

what I’m thinking about now, and in response, I

tell you that I love you, because that always si-

lences you long enough for me to take a moment

to think. but this time, you are not shaken; you

tell me that you love me too, something that you

have never told me as earnestly as you do now.

and I am, for once, comforted. I give you one of

those rare true smiles I have a limited supply of

in my heart. But love won't fix my problems, no

matter what the books say. but maybe you can.

I’m pounding my fists against that wall in my

head that's keeping my from asking, and for the

first time, I am able to bring it down. Before I can

let my most primal instincts stop me, I plead you

to help me.


Age: 14

Short Bio: K.H. Phoenix is a fourteen-year-old dreamer with an imagination that

she sometimes takes too seriously. She loves anything fantasy with a passion, and

is an absolute Lord of the Rings fanatic. "I can't say exactly why I write," she says,

"because sometimes such things don't have a clear definition. But for me, writing

is everything I can't say out loud. It's taken from a deeper level of my mind that, for

some reason, only written word can truly describe."

On "Dreamcatcher": This piece is about living two lives: one on Earth, and one on

a world that has no limits to its possibilities. It's about dreaming and how as people

grow up and mature, we tend to lose many things, among which includes our ability

to imagine. Science and math, things that involve straight facts, rule out many pos-

sibilities that exist in a small child's whims and fancies. I believe, though, that our

childhood dreams and fantasies follow us our whole life, but many become blind to

them, their sight shrouded by what they have been taught about the real world.

What the narrator of this piece is trying to say is to never stop imagining; dreaming

can be an escape, a way to soften the harsh blows of reality. Just remember: what

is impossible now may not stay impossible. Keep an open mind; don't be afraid of

believing in the nonexistent.

On "Pride": A common attribute among people is pride, which can affect someone

positively or negatively. It can give someone the confidence that they are going to

succeed, but it can also render someone easily embarrassed, and therefore afraid

to take a risk. Taking that extra step in life to achieve everything can be frightening

back it may involve the risk of losing everything. But taking such a gamble is nec-

essary if one is to live his or her life to its fullest; there is no such thing as a worth-

less life. Sometimes, we have to learn to swallow our pride and take that risk. Sure,

we'll make mistakes in life, but we have to learn to brush off our knees and keep

going. And oftentimes, our loved ones can help us along the way. The bottom line

is: you're going to face barriers on your way to success, like everyone must, but

sometimes that barrier is you. It takes courage and determination to bring down

the walls in your own mind.

You look surprised, but you recover

quickly; you ask me what I need help

with. I reply, sheepishly, with the an-

swer: living. Help me to live. because I

need someone to teach me, someone's

hand to hold while I learn, so that if I do

fall (oh God, I can't believe I’m doing

this), I’ll have someone familiar to bring

down with me. You don't respond

through words, but instead, you grab my

hand and pull me up, leading me outside

and for the first time I see the sunset as

a blooming rose of color, not a splash of

sky-blood on the dimming daytime sky.

my eyes have opened to a blunt, unex-

plored world, but with your hand in mine,

I’m only a little scared. you turn and smile

at me. I bury my head into your shoulder.

I'm breaking out of my shell, and the taste

of fresh, free air is wonderful and fills me.

I swallow my pride, and it only lodges in

my throat for a split second. I can't turn

back now, but searching in the deepest

corners of my mind, I find that I don't want

to. We begin to walk, and now, I don't drag

my feet. my head is held higher than I have

ever held it before. There's a life waiting for

me, and the hope of finding it makes me

smile (genuinely.)


To photograph is to hold one’s breath, when all faculties converge

to capture a fleeting reality. It’s at that precise moment that

mastering an image becomes a great physical and intellectual joy.-Henri Cartier Bresson

Photography

Alure of

The Closeup

Michelle Carrel

The

Visionary Artistry

of Photographer

77

Michelle Carrel. AlthoughMichelle would probably notcall herself a visionary in herapproach to the art form,the fact remains and is self-evident in her images thatshe is extremely talented inmaking a close-up imagewith great allure and in-trigue. We caught up withMichelle in a brief email in-terview so we, who are onthe receiving end of her tal-ented creations, may get aclose–up of a different na-ture. Here is what Michellehad to say. Michelle how

did you get into photography

as an art form? When I wasin high school, the only classes I found any joy in were theart classes; the school had quite a few classes to choosefrom, ceramics, drawing, sculpture, photography etc. Myfirst semester of my sophomore year, I took the photogra-phy class. The first day, we were given a book about pho-tography, and were told we should read the first chapter, Inever read a page of that book! Sure, I didn't know thefirst thing about photography, but I believe any art in whichyou are forced to read an entire book on, in my opinion,

To o see the world in a

grain of sand, and to

see heaven in a wild

flower, hold infinity in

the palm of your hands, and eternity

in an hour. -William Blake

Although Blake was not a photographerthe idea of seeing the world in a grain ofsand or an individual leaf or even a flowerhas intrigued man for centuries. To, for amoment in time, stop and ponder thesmallest of universes adorned with alienlike elaborate matrixes and structure isshear pleasure. To get in close and loseoneself in this incredible world, whereeven the most familiar takes on other-world-like qualities, has allured photogra-phers and viewers alike since the birth ofthe art. To live the life of the photogra-pher you have to be in love with themedium; to breath life into a print youmust visualize it even before the expo-sure is made, but to make a close-up trulymagical you must first not only visualizebut have great vision as well. One suchphotographer with immeasurable visionand ability to capture the very soul of anobject on the close and macro planes is

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isn’t art anymore. Art should be something you cando limitlessly... something you do to express your-self, and have fun while doing. Thankfully, I had avery good teacher. Photography is a very gentlemedium, and it takes finesse... and unspoiledchemicals. It was art mixed with a subtle hint of sci-ence... and I loved it for that. Were there any other

courses you were interested in? All other mediumsseemed boring by comparison and my focusshifted from writing and drawing to photographyonly. My senior year, I decided I couldn't learn any-

thing further from the high school photography de-partment, so I looked around at local colleges. Ichose Johnson County Community College. Did

you take up photography there too? I enrolled inthe beginners photography" course, then in ad-vanced photography... a week into that class how-ever, I lost my job, and not having enough moneyto pay for the materials had to drop the class to lookfor employment. About six months after that, I gota hold of a decent digital camera... and due to mylack of access to a darkroom, I began to take pho-

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“To me, photography represents a window

to the way Ii see things... I'm simply try-

ing to share that view, and help people look

closer at beautiful things they would usually

overlook.”

tos with that. “I remember originally thinking digital photography was an abomination... it was choosing

the easy way out. God, was I wrong.” I've been addicted ever since. I just loved the fact that I couldpost-process the images. Film photography has it's advantages still and I miss it to death, but I don'tthink I could ever go back to only film. What equipment are you currently using? I use a Sunpak Plat-inumPlus 6200DX tripod, and a Canon SX110 IS Where there an photographers that influenced you more

then others? I never really looked up to any particular famous photographer, sure I have admired thework of other photographers in the past, butcan't say they inspired me much. However, inthe two or three years that I've been in the on-line art scene, I have seen millions of photo-graphs on Flickr and Deviantart... and thoseare the artists who inspire me the mosttoday. What is it like for you in the field? Once,while I was making the image something andshredded, I was standing in knee high grasswith huge bugs swarming all around me. It wasa particularly humid day, and this was taken outin the country... therefore, there were 3x morebugs than I usually have to deal with in suchsituations. Anyway, I was snapping away asfast as I could, trying to get the least amount ofbug bites as possible, while also trying to get aclear shot. After I got about twenty images, Iran away like a little girl. I'm sure if anyone sawit, they laughed their ass off. Now that I thinkabout it...I usually have to do this on every out-door shoot I go on. We doubt from the qualityof her images that there is truly much that bugsMichelle while making an image and we atWalkingblind Magazine want to thank Michellefor taking the time to share a bit about her lifeand work with our readers. Her work is amaz-ing and we recommend you see more of it foryourself. You can find more from Michelle on-line at: http://aforadultery.deviantart.com/ Out-Shine II By Michelle Carrel

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Mind Cage


Urban Photo Exploration

The photographer Edward

Weston once said “Consult-ing the rules of composition

before taking a photograph, is likeconsulting the laws of gravity be-fore going for a walk.” To the pro-fessional practicing photographersthese laws, once learned, are im-plemented without wasting time inthought. They become second na-ture akin to that of bipedalism, they

are a way of life, allowing us thefreedom to create spontaneously.The free flowing ability to frame, vi-sualize and capture the perfect mo-ment in time to many comes in afashion very similar to the way welearn to walk, it is a nurturingprocess developed over time givento us by external forces and onceacquired and acted upon repeat-edly becomes part of us forever…

Right? Ok enough of that, there arealso those who are just born withthe freaking photographic disease.To these special human beings,and you know who you are, the allencompassing world of photogra-phy is innate, it’s just in the blood,they seem to have just been bornin the know! Talent is neitherlearned or taught, it’s a gift andwhile you can nurture a talent, it

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must be pre-existing to do so! Now I’m amnot going to be delving headlong into thewhole Margaret Mead nature verses nur-ture debate and wax anthropological adnauseum, that would require open mind-edness. Right now Iwant to be a little morenarrow and focused inmy vision and mindsetand just say I knowdamn good photogra-phy when I see it!Enter “Mind-Cage” avery talented and natu-rally gifted photogra-pher from Germany,whose style and tech-nical ability clearlyshine through in everyimage. Currently ex-ploring the urban landscape photographi-cally, his unique application of traditionaland digital imaging perfectly blend to cre-ate striking and vividly haunting works ofart and he’s only been doing that a very

short period of time. Surprisingly he em-barked on his photographic career only afew years ago in 2007, but let’s let Mind-Cage himself tell us the rest of the story.

I was searching for a newhobby but I was also look-ing for something where Icould bring in my creativeimpulse. I’ve seen somegreat photos in the internet– mainly at deviantARTand I was quite obsessedby these pictures so Iwanted to learn how tomake such images too.The “HDRI” technique wasalso very fascinating andso I’ve bought my firstcamera [Canon Eos 350D]

and started to experiment. I’ve learned allby myself [autodidactic] with a lot of read-ing and experimenting! I think that’s thebest way to create and find your own“style”. There are many influences but I

“I’ve never tried to

copy a particular look

or style ”


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can’t tell exactly who wasthe biggest influence, butI’ve never tried to copy aparticular look or style ofany other artist. I’ve alwaystried to develop my ownstyle and look of my im-ages. In the past 2 yearsmy passion for abandonedbuildings and places hasdeveloped and I really loveto go on tour and exploreruins and forgotten lostplaces. The atmosphere atthese places is so amazingand I always try to capturethe bizarre and dark atmosphere within my photographs. Inever take pictures only to take pictures. I work very prop-erly and I always have the finished picture in mind when Ipush the release of my camera. I want to make history vis-ible … combined with a strange feeling of abandoned at-mosphere. The post processing is also very important – it’snever the naked photograph out of the camera. I love themonochromatic look and it also strengthens the play of lightand shadow. Now I use a Canon Eos 40D and several

“ I always have the finished

picture in mind when I push

the release of my camera.”

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lenses [Canon, Sigma, Tamron] …I mostly use ultra-wide-anglelenses [Sigma 10-20mm] … aManfrotto tripod which is very veryimportant … I never use flashlightor other tungsten light. I don’t haveany education background corre-sponding to photography, as I’vestated I’ve learned all by myself.Also, I know how to use Photoshopso it was not very hard to learn that

much about the post-processing.To find the abandoned places Ishoot, I and others, as I don’t dothis alone, spend hours and hoursof research on the internet beforewe take one single picture. Also wedrive hundreds of kilometres everyweekend [at least “every” week-end] and we also got to some loca-tions and did not manage to getinside. It’s always a kind of

roulette. But there’s a small exist-ing scene of people who alwaysfind “new” places and there’s somekind of information network amongother “Urban Explorers”. Its quitecomplicated for me to describe allmy processes and for every motifas it varies for each one. I will sayI’ve got my workflow down and Iam normally finished with a singleimage within 30 to 40 minutes. I al-


“Atrue photograph need not be explained,

nor can it be contained in words”-Ansel Adams

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ways use Photoshop for post-processing. Normally I’vegot up to 20 different layers before a single image is fin-ished.

However complicated the process may seem, the endresults speak loud volumes for the themselves. Theuniqueness of his style creates an unforgettable am-biance that leaves the viewer wanting to fall deeper intothe mystery of this photographic journey. We at Walk-ingBlind hope to see so much more from this artist in thefuture. To find out more about Mind-Cage please visithis website at: http://www.mindcage-fotodesign.de


The Photography of

ANDREY ALEKSEEV91


ANDREY ALEKSEEV

Somewhere deep in the Russian countryside, amidst steel rail and infrastructure, there

are the distant stacks of the industrial revolution; some still scream feed on demand

while others have fallen silent, a faded muscular silhouette dissolving into the land-

scape. What was produced here, who’s lives were spent out tending to the machines

of man’s devise and to what ends are these symbols of mans achievement headed

for. They rust in eerie silence!

To some, without vision to see beyond their worn and darkened surface, they remain only a

rage upon the land, an eyesore to be dealt with; but to others a choice few with clarity of sight

they are a true work of art. Finding beauty in the patterns of decay, in the color of rust and

wonder in the architecture of twisted metal they become subject of lens and viewfinder which

morph effortlessly into compositions that bellow with raw delight. It takes a special breed of pho-

tographer to truly bring out all the subtle nuances of these now abandon giants and transform the

exoskeleton of industry into images that captivate the mind.


In this month’s issue of Walk-

ingBlind we believe we have found

that special breed of photographer

in Andrey Alekseev. This 24 year

old Moscow resident has an amaz-

ing ability to capture the intricate

beauty of these brick and steel ser-

vants of man, in such a way that

sets his portfolio apart from the

rest and creates for us, the viewer,

a simply stunning body of work

upon which to feast. While we

could not possibly scratch the sur-

face of all his art has to offer, we

sincerely hope however this four

page teaser will motivate you to pa-

tronize frequently the well stocked

pages of his online gallery. Here is

just a little more food for thought

on Andrey by Andrey himself.

I remember exactly that moment, it was an early spring morning, I looked out the window and there

the first time in several months it was Sunday and there was warmth in the air. I took my camera and

went to the industrial zone which was near my house and after a few frames I at that moment realized

just how very interesting this subject was. Walking through these deserted places is a good way to mentally

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Image by Andrey Alekseev

“ I’m always mentallyphotographing everythingas practice.” -Minor White


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Image by Andrey Alekseev

relax, its my motivation. Some years before,

I was an artist of computer-art and admirer

of H.R. Giger but I was also influenced by

photographers like Henk Van Rensbergen

and Harald Finster. I made collages in the

style of surrealism, but this was not enough

for me, and I began photographing. When I

make an image it all depends on what is de-

picted in the scene and mood. My photo-

graphs are usually monochrome, sometimes,

if there is reason, they may be colored, but

this rarely happens. I like the lomography

effect in my old Kodak, it has four pixels and

I am satisfied with it. For me, the most im-

portant part of the creative process is the

choice of images to edit on the computer.

When I make a photo I do not know what

will be in the final version. Basically I place

a transparent layer over the image that is

scratched and I do this to the extent of dis-

torting the image for aesthetic reasons. I

don’t care to participate in exhibitions and

am currently on my fifth year at an architec-

tural University.

We wish Andrey

the best at the uni-

versity and in his

photographic ca-

reer and would

like to thank him

for taking the time

out of his busy

schedule to talk

with us briefly. If

you find Andrey’s

work and life in-

triguing you can

find out more here

at: dosimeter.de-

viantart.com/

95 Walkingblind Magazine

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97

“Be not afraid of greatness: some

are born great, some achieve greatness,

and some have greatness thrust upon

them.” - William Shakespeare

Articles

9899

Transcending ImmortalityBy Indigo Reid

99

When you stop to really think about it, more than

half of our education in public institutes were in-

vented, thought of, carried out, or written by people

who no longer walk the face of the earth. While

feasting on the created or found knowledge of these

deceased men and women do you ever stop to won-

der how they came across a way to be known nation

or worldwide for their achievements? Do we bother

to take the time to delve into the lives of these people

whose ideas and methods we study and use every-

day? This line of thought will lead you down many

different paths, but what I want you to focus on isn’t

the end result of these accomplished people but

rather the journey they embarked upon to become

some of the longest living human beings of all time.

I will be talking about this from the perspective of

writers while showing you how other well known

writers long past live among us today.

I will open up this part of the article by stating

the obvious fact that a large portion of the world’s

population strive to be seen and heard by one an-

other, many will yearn for that sort of fame, few will

reach it. In this day and age we see how hard it is to

become well known at anything let alone writing, can

you imagine a person that is working hard to push

their art so far off the normal time frame that by the

time they finished the piece it would be slapping the

next generation in the back of the head? The real

question that should be answered is why do we feel

a need to be remembered? What is it inside of us

that keens for recognition beyond our lifetime? One

reason why we want to be remembered is the fear of

death, no matter how hard it is to take everyone

knows that death is the end; there are no more

chances or opportunities for physical success after

it. Death is one of the reasons why people work so

vigorously to make something out of themselves and

knowing that the end can come at anytime forces us

to calculate a plan that will allow us to continue to

live and exceed certain limitations set upon our lives.

Another reason is loneliness, it isn’t hard to believe

that after dying we may be cast into a sea of

nothing alone and hollow waiting for something…

waiting for nothing. It is plausible to think that be-

cause of this impending loneliness a person would

love to hear their name roll off the tongues of the liv-

ing. This loneliness goes hand in hand with our ap-

prehension of the unknown, if you have no clue what

is to happen to your soul after you pass on the only

logical thing to do is make sure that someone re-

members you enough to spread your name and the

meaning of your life. There of course are other rea-

sons why remembrance after death is important to

us, but most are personal and don’t need to be

brought up in this article. Now as I take us into the

next few paragraphs keep this one in mind as we

continue.

William Shakespeare, is by far one of the most

undead dead writers of all time, I understand that

there is also John Keats, Sylvia Plath, Vladimir

Nabokov, and Mowlānā (Rumi for our western read-

ers)but Shakespeare seems to be the one that every-

one gravitates too. By finding out how this man

wrote we can discover the secret to his success in

finding the eternal fountain. The first thing we must

look at is the fact that Shakespeare didn’t write like

he was from the 15th-16th century, his writings con-

sisted of strong willed woman such as Gertude of

Hamlet and Lady Macbeth, leading characters of dif-

ferent nationalities like the Moorish soldier Othello,

and his love of ribaldry. Shakespeare’s plays and

sonnets were engorged with love, sex, horrible

tragedy, and characters who disguised themselves

physically and emotionally. Along with these things

in his later sonnets he begins to talk about a ‘dark

lady’ which he loves beyond everything else who

could be anyone from an African prostitute to

Emilia Bassano Lanier the wife of a patron of Shake-

speare's theatrical company. If by this time you can-

not see how it is that this author’s work and

personality could survive so many years maybe you

Transcending Immortality

Inthe last issue I wrote about the co-herence of harnessed words and

the writers who have the task of matur-ing their writing for that purpose. In thisarticle I will be talking about the perma-nence of words, and what makes awriter’s work transcend time.


should read this section again or do an engrossed

study on his life and collections. William Shake-

speare’s ‘against the tide’ type of writing granted

him a pass throughout time.

After reading the above paragraph your prob-

ably wondering how you can mirror the actions of

Shakespeare in your own time, the simple solu-

tion is to stay ahead of this time period by devel-

oping the maturity of your writing. William could

never have gotten where he is today without the

quick cleverness of his coherent mind and the

drive to continue his work. In order to have your

work stand up against the erosion of time’s waves

you must challenge your writing skills as often as

you can, flexing it like a muscle, testing what it

can and cannot handle. It is essentially up to you

as a writer to either strengthen your work or

watch over the months and years as it wastes

away. Why do the latter when you could live for-

ever?

*All information pertaining to William Shake-

speare in this article were found by actually

reading his work so if you want my sources

you’ll have to read the mentioned play-

wrights and sonnets. Good Luck

"Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time"

- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


102

Dont feel left out! if you miss an issue of WalkingBlindyou can catchup on your reading at our website! Just click

on the past issues tab then sit back, relax and enjoy.

Gallery Will Be Closing Indefinitely

Due to Lack of Support and Interest!

The Decline Of The ArtsBy Alex Dark

Poerty fettered fetters the human race. Nations are destroyed, or flourish, in

proportion as their poetry, painting, and music are destroyed or flourished!

-William Blake


--The Decline of the arts--

Among the maze of mobius distrac-tions, in a world so busy that evenfast food seems slow and theclaxon of automobile horn dronesout our evening lyric, one wonderswhat has become of the leisure

time this Aquarian age was to afford us. In thisvast oceanic wave of information and electronflow, irradiating us daily down to the last particledo we really invest the scarce commodity ofspare time in those endeavors that are deemedculturally enriching. Do we take note of fine de-tail or revel boisterously in the experience of theexperiential? Where is the finer slice of life mi-crotomed off and matrimonially vowed to us bythe avant-garde of the digital marketing moguls.Some have, and to great lengths, proclaimed tothis writer that there is no longer a need for thecultured vises of society, that holding in high re-gard artifacts which serve no functional endother then to be aesthetically pleasing is a foolsfolly and a grave waste of currency by those thatindulge in the patronage there of. ‘Art is dead’has become their endless mantra and they,meaning those within my sphere of existence,recite it with out so much as investigating possi-bility that it’s alleged corpse may be merely dor-mant, still fogging the mirror and waiting againto burst forth with renewed vitality and direction.

Cut the crap! Is art really freaking dead? To meits pulse had always been strong and tactile,able to be sensed beyond even the slightest flut-ter. Art, I am happy to say, is far from the morgueof dried paint tubes and bone hard brushes, onthe contrary I have found it to be alive, well andthriving although in an altered state of existence.Art today has a new face one many may not beacquainted with but a voice and expression ofthought we have all heard before. While thepractice of traditional art has subsided to a cer-tain degree, digital art abounds in scads andswarms around us with an electric hum like fliesbuzzing around meat. Personally, coming froman age where all that was created had someartistic facet and beauty, to a world of stock plainvinyl covered particleboard furniture is disheart-ening at best and makes me wonder as I moveforward in age just what exactly is to come. To

me art is and always has been a part of every-day life but the deep wounds of today’s hardeconomic times coupled with a fleeting interestby a large part of the populous to grace the hallsof art galleries across the land has forced achange in the art community and the artist them-selves. The days of renaissance are gone withthe great masters returning to the very clay fromwhich much of their art medium was created andart has moved from the mainstream to a placeon the back streets and side alleys.

What we used to prize as the feather in our capin the facadish days of Deco and Art Nouveau isnow the proverbial drink in the speakeasies ofthe modern day art communities. It seems mostare just too busy to stop and pay attention to thearts or have a general lack of interest in partici-pating beyond the hobbyist level. The artist, inany venue, is seen many times by a vast major-ity as lazy not pulling his or her own weight in so-ciety, wasting time on pursuits that too many areviewed as less then a respectable living. I be-lieve this to be true evidenced in the formationof so may underground art communities bythose who are the last bastions of the fortresswe used to call mainstream. From poetry topainting many have been driven to small clusters

“Art does not evolve

by itself, the ideas of

people change and

with them their mode

of expression.”

-Pablo Picasso



of like minded on places with names that implythey are deviated from the norm, hence the feel-ing of being underground. The stereotype of thestarving artist is not so far from the truth in thisbarren new flood plain, there is a famine outthere but just who is really starving? Without art,without enrichment a society will eventuallycrumble becoming stale and mundane. Weneed to dream, to vision with passion and man-ifest those feelings in some form. My hat goesoff to those brave soles who fight to keep the artsalive on every front. Although there is a shortageof the desire to make even the simplest of ob-jects into an art form for everyday use, there hasnever been a shortage of the talent to do so.There is on tap, a cold full draft of talented artistswaiting to have their day in the sun, but for rightnow forced to remain in the wings hovering in theshadows and from there the plot thickens as thisplight affects not only the tangible visual artscommunity but has gone seeping it’s way intothe literary communities as well.

Where are those who prefer to gorge on thewritten offspring of mankind’s musings as an al-ternative to being force fed the pabulum of zerosand ones whizzing at light speed through a con-duit of twisted copper wire. There is no balancein this phantasmagorical world of counterfeit life;writers however do still abound in this maze ofrandom access memory. With no shortage of ar-tisans of verse, one wonders why they cling totheir craft in the hellfire’s of this Nvidia born illit-eracy when all seems to be lost. If there is nodeficiency of writers for of the ink laden text print-ers impregnated upon the pages of our hard-bound spawn of soul and breath why then,doesn’t anyone read except when they feel theyabsolutely have no choice for something workrelated or for school? The last I checked youcould read outside of those venues anytime youwant yet libraries are closing in droves acrossthe country, the one in my town was no excep-tion! Seems like decades ago, although only afew agonizing months, I embarked upon the ar-duous task of writing and posting over fortyworks of the liturgical genus online in an art net-work I belong to only to find they have beenovertly abandon, cast down and trodden upon in

favor of the more cultured master pieces of naru-tonian fan art splendor.

Why are writers shunned and averted in thisphenomenon of modern bliss, when more thenany other time in history has the written wordbeen so available, is a mystery not unlike Plato'slost world of submerged acclaim. The societyand culture of the population of the neo-electronnation seemingly holds to the belief that the eyemust be dazzled with scene changes every 5seconds for media to be of any intrinsic value.Teething on visually rendered haggis daily theyneglect the cold hard fact that for anime charac-ters to romp gleefully through fields of bloodstained flowers as the storyboard artist intended,there first must have been an artist who wrotethe story! Writing is an ancient expressionformed deep within the spirit of the humanbreast. Writing, when unleashed with tenacityfrom impassioned pen to tattoo the metastasizedpulp of the paper’s flesh, becomes a weapon, alover, and adviser, a method of chastisementand ultimately the best flippen bang on a Satur-day night a starving mind could hope for withouthaving to spend a fortune on something servedup with a side of deep fried strings of geneticallyaltered potatoes. Writers are largely a very over-looked cog in the machinery of the artistic infra-structure of our society, surpassed often timeseven by fancy pants stick figures of epic propor-tions roaming the transistorized surface of com-puter screens.

It is disheartening to live in a minority wherethe world at large sees art and literature assomething that drips only slowly on the page orcanvas only to remain closed or hidden for thelife span of its lignum free archival permanence.Art and literature spewed forth even at base lev-els takes on life and breath, it is voracious, flirta-tious, advantageous and most assuredly to thetotalitarian mind extremely dangerous. Its entityis dynamic whether or not its line and form is ofacrylic nature or decisively hobbled in bold facesans-serif fashion. It is always worth the price ofadmission to expand ones horizons in the explo-ration of artifacts buried between the sands ofpunctuation or hung at eye level on the long



bronze hook of the gallery wall. It seems horri-fyingly ignorant to me why more of the con-stituents of this artistic community don’t vie foran internship to embark on an expedition into thelong sealed tombs of many textual and artisticnirvanas.

Feed on a different manna, one that will leavea lasting after taste in the mind and soul insteadof usual fare of indigestible Crayola garnisheddaily specials that quite frankly will make the ed-ucated pallet eventually nauseous as they areleft to ferment in the forgotten regions desksand lockers everywhere. What am I trying to sayin my lengthy discourse of pragmatic platitudes– patronize the ARTS before its too late, the lifeof artists and writers depends on it, but moreoverthe survival of our society’s cultural mind de-pends on it. Be aware of the art around you; getinvolved in the art community actively even if youcan’t produce art on your own you can still be apart by supporting it. In places where art has de-clined it is historical fact that the humanity de-clined there as well, and its still happening.

Recent research this May 2010, after analyz-ing almost 300,000 children and adults, discov-ered creativity scores have consistently spiraleddownward increasingly since 1990 without signsof slowing down. This decrease is terrifyingly sig-nificant and most exceedingly serious. Theacidic culprit eating our minds and declining oursociety is directly related to the number of hourspeople now spend in front of the TV and com-puters just like the one you are viewing this on.Art programs have been and are being droppedin schools in favor of computer courses (ma-chines that think for you) and in some places artwas dropped simply because those in power be-lieved in this day and age believed it was a nonessential waste of time in the digital age to in-volve in traditional arts when they could betterdirect their misappropriated funds to greater en-deavors such as self-raises and Cuban style ci-gars.

Pursuing one thing consistently and not en-gaging in other creative activity causes lack ofartistic development in our brains which requiresconstant shifting and blending of the types of

things it takes in. Feeding it the cold steel of thealter of the desk-top-tower continuously is caus-ing damage. Art is directly declining in Americaas a result of funds and minds being funneled tothe advancement of the information age, butwhat good is information if there is no one left touse it. Now a computer is a wonderful tool andyes there is a great digital art all around us but ifall we do as a society is let machines think forus we will be in distinct and eminent duress as aculture. If art dies, we die, it is that simple.Draw and write, paint and sculpt, create all man-ner of art as if your life depends on it, it does.Use the computer but as a tool, do not let it re-place the power of the human brain to create,demand art programs back in our schools, re-open the libraries and feast…yes gorge your-selves on the wonder of art and survive into thenext millennium leaving for posterity that whichyou yourself created for the next wave to enjoyand be inspired by. Be art aware and remember“Food for thought requires a mind with teeth!”


Entertainment

Come back next issue

for the another installment

of Knite by Yuumei

Yuumei aka - Wenqing Yan can

be found at:

http://yuumei.deviantart.com/

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