Area Of Dream Control
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About: In a room that has remained stagnant in adolescent times, a restless young girl creates her own reality, as defined by her fantasies.

Or simply a playground so as to keep my inner child alive.
“I will not serve that in which I no longer believe, whether it calls itself my home, my fatherland, or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defense the only arms I allow myself to use — silence, exile, and cunning.” —James Joyce (A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man)

“My desire is to preserve the sense of peoples’ lives, to endow them with the strength and beauty I see in them. I want the people in my pictures to stare back. I want to show exactly what my world looks like, without glamorization, without glorification. This is not a bleak world, but one in which there is an awareness of pain, a quality of introspection. We all tell stories which are versions of history-memorized, encapsulated, repeatable, and safe. Real memory, which these pictures trigger, is an invocation of the color, smell, sound, and physical presence, the density and flavor of life.” Nan Goldin, The Ballad of Sexual Dependency

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.] 3 plays

Music from the desert. Here’s to Diafana Krina (The Transparent Lilies).  

“Walking along streets that collapse from crumbling sewers. Past buildings that you jump to avoid because they will fall on you. Past grim faces that size you up and sentence you. Past closed shops, closed markets, closed cinemas, closed parks, closed cafes. Sometimes showing dusty signs, justifcations: “Closed for Renovation”, “Closed for Repairs”. What kind of repairs? When will these so-called renovations be finished? When at last will they begin? Closed; closed; closed… everything closed. I arrive, open the countless padlocks and run up the temporary stairs. There she is, waiting for me. I pull off the cover and stare at her dusty, cold shape; I clean off the dust and caress her. With my hand, delicately, I wipe clean her back, her base and her sides. Infront of her, I feel desperate and happy. I run my fingers over her keyboard and suddenly it all starts up. With a tinkling sound the music begins, little by little, then faster; now full speed. Walls, trees, streets, cathedrals, faces and beaches. Cells, mini-cells, huge cells. Starry nights, bare feet, pines, clouds. Hundreds, thousands, millions of parrots. A stool, a climbing plant, they all answer my call, all come to me. The walls recede, the roof vanishes, and you float quite naturally. You float uprooted, dragged off, lfited high. Transported, immortalized, saved. Thanks to that subtle, continuous rhythm, that music, that incessant tap-tap.” —Reinaldo Arenas (Before Night Falls)

(There could be no better reason to come back to my tumblr. I apologize for the long absence.)

Αlso known as the Moster Engine, Dave DeVries was witty enough to create a series of images inspired by children’s drawings, proposing a more… realistic scenario. With the invaluable help of his “logic and instinct”, as he admits, and a bunch of paintings by his little friends, he brings to life a surreal world full of monsters, which gives you the feeling that you literally wander in the dark and peculiar alleys of a child’s imagination. Be sure to check his work.

Southern California’s favorite band “The Growlers” tour through San Francisco.

jackcolemanphoto.com

I’m really inspired by history, and I try to create art that has the feel of old engravings. I use Micron technical pens for my drawings. To get really fine lines, I wait until a pen is nearly out of ink. It usually takes a few months to a year for a pen to be ‘ready’. 

(Liz Mamont, Fieldtrip, technical pen on wood)

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.] 0 plays

“Losing My Religion” is a song by the American alternative rock band R.E.M. In 1994, American singer Tori Amos recorded acoustic piano cover of the song, and it was included in the Higher Learning movie soundtrack.

wikipedia.org

“…quand j’étais petite, j’avais qu’une seule idée c’était de grandir, je voulais que ça aille plus vite. Mais maintenant, je sais pas à quoi ça a servi tout ça. Puis je sais plus. Devenir plus vielle. Ce qu’il y a devant moi… J’ai l’impression que c’est comme une salle d’attente, dans une grande gare, avec des bancs, des courants d’air, et derrière les vitres des tas de gens qui passent à toute allure, sans me voir, ils sont pressés, ils prennent des trains ou des taxis, ils ont quelque part où aller, quelqu’un à retrouver. Et moi, je reste assise là, j’attends.”
“Mais vous attendez quoi, Adèle ?”
“…qu’il m’arrive quelque chose.” —Serge Frydman (La Fille Sur Le Pont)

Valero Doval describes his work as “sometimes about my life, sometimes about the lives of the others, and sometimes about the life of nobody. I love hand-drawn illustration as much as using collage, mixing different things to create something new… I find beauty in diversity, in the combination of dissimilar people, plants, animals, things, spaces, feelings, or thoughts…”

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