The Dying Poet by kolaboy
kolaboy

The Dying Poet

by kolaboy in Paintings 1

Acrylic on canvas, 16x20 inches.

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  • arsenicandlace
  • GrimDream

    GrimDream

    Your style is unique. Very interesting work!

    Aug 15th, 2011 Reply
  • artistik

    artistik

    i see the pencils form a cross

    Jul 17th, 2011 Reply
  • QuakerNinja

    QuakerNinja

    I don't know of any liveing poets that are worth there salt, I think a poet needs a little death to survive.

    Jul 17th, 2011 Reply
  • J4n3T

    J4n3T

    Jul 1st, 2011 Reply
  • Dynnnad

    Dynnnad

    That's a stunning piece, great work on all the details!!

    Jul 1st, 2011 Reply Subscriber
  • snowmask

    snowmask

    They look like they're having fun. Great job on the nose. I've never been quite brave enough to try something like that, distorted facial features...

    I'm curious about the stitching on the hand...

    Jun 22nd, 2011 Reply
    • kolaboy

      kolaboy

      That's a reference to the cult of the Half-Hand :)

      Jun 22nd, 2011 Reply Subscriber
    • snowmask

      snowmask

      I know not of this cult... :O

      Jun 22nd, 2011 Reply
    • kolaboy

      kolaboy

      "On the first Friday night of December (as has been from times past), the girls of the sect that has come to be know as The Order of the Half-Hand make their way across the frozen landscape of Beechey Island to a certain point on the coast of the same. There, to the tender and unearthly drone of plainsong, they perform the sacred rite of the illuminated lamb. Three of the fifteen girls suck on blue Christmas light bulbs, and when they are asked "Hath the blue light entered yet into your hearts?", they reply "It hath not, nor can we compel it with all our effort or desire... "
      Dressed as lambs, they spend an hour symbolically lost in the wastes, crawling on their knees in concentric circles, and at last meeting in the middle. They then count the twelve stitches on the back of their hands, say the corresponding prayer that accompanies every stitch, and touch the backs of their hands together proclaiming "Forever are we half of what is whole, and we are one, we are eternal".
      Only when the stars of the constellation Tarandus reach their apex can they break their five day fast, with Halloween candy aged seven years, warmed over a cedar fire on the spokes of Keb's ancient bicycle.
      The name of Keb, however, is never spoken during the ceremony."

      Jun 22nd, 2011 Reply Subscriber
  • Mishelangello

    Mishelangello

    Awesome work! love the detail andmood! Very beautiful!

    Jun 22nd, 2011 Reply
  • 7Shadows

    7Shadows

    I noticed that your characters wear a lot of black. The contrast is amazing.

    Jun 22nd, 2011 Reply
  • JurgenDoe

    JurgenDoe

    It must been smelling bad that he is holding his nose closed ... what poet are you referring too ? really great idea to use this as concept .. very nice work Danny.

    Jun 22nd, 2011 Reply Shadowness Staff