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asylum-art:

陈江洪 Chen Jiang Hong

on artnet

Chen uses calligraphic techniques and paints on the floor with long wolf-hair brushes. Each brush stroke is a definite, irreversible moment that cannot be changed. The compositions are made up of strong black brush strokes balanced by smoky volutes and tactile sawdust. The subjects are often oversized and blurred, as if Chen has captured a fleeting moment in time. The large-scale ‘close-ups’ have an immediate impact on the viewer, emphasising the materiality of his painting.

Chen’s work translates the vitality of nature with a rare elegance and an extraordinary energy. It would appear to embody the philosophy of Oriental sumi-e – where the aim is not to reprod

(via asylum-art)

tarynjeh:

ghostinthemirrorx:

And THIS is why my veins are fucked….. Oh how I wish I would’ve seen this a few years before I did.

IMPORTANT
lonequixote:

Wheat Field at Auvers with White House  ~ Vincent van Gogh
ligafrankorn:

Januz Miralles
the-only-salvation:
screamasyouleave:

Keket Watched by Eye of Keksinski
Stoic Decay
lifeisthefight:

Source
etched-in-acid:

~ daniel barkley
navybluecrow:

By Arthur Meehan
creepyartetc:

Artist: Christopher McKenney

asylum-art:

Timothy Hon Hung Lee

Tim Lee’s large-scale ink drawings and paintings on rice paper are, at a first glance, tightly bound with the visual aesthetics of Chinese painting, while simultaneously referencing elements of traditional European art. The conflation of these visual cultures is unsurprising: Lee is a British artist of Chinese descent.

But the work does not just amount to a reverential homage to these past cultures. The construction of this work is a slow meditation on composition, where the artist enacts an exploration of the pictorial space (and a very physical one: at certain points moving back from the work, assessing it under altered light conditions, even making “passes” of the hand over the paper, feeling, in a literal sense, his way through the construction of the image). The works do not grow from background to foreground as in traditional painting, and are not planned as an overall image, but are in a sense unveiled through a nomadic meandering across the paper, where entire sections are completed before stepping back and deciding which direction to take next. This lack of a dominating, pre-established composition can explain why these paintings often operate best when the eye is allowed to roam slowly across the surface.

ligafrankorn:

Erlend Mørk

asylum-art:

Christina Mrozik

Christina Mrozik is an artist from Michigan, USA. She often draws with ink and marker on paper, adding bursts of color with watercolor and high pigmented acrylics. She views the art making process as one of portraiture, in which analyzing the drawing helps make sense of peoples’ histories and abilities. Currently based in Grand Rapids Michigan, she has shown both regionally and nationally.

(via asylum-art)

thatsimplecripple:

"We stare at broken clocks, the hands don’t turn anymore
The days turn into nights, empty hearts and empty places
The day you lost him, I slowly lost you too
For when he died, he took a part of you

No time for farewells, no chances for goodbyes
No explanations, no fucking reasons why
I watched it eat you up, pieces fallen on the floor
We stare at broken clocks, the hands don’t turn anymore

If only sorrow could build a staircase, or tears could show the way
I would climb my way to Heaven, and bring him back home again
Don’t give up hope my friend, this is not the end

We stare at broken clocks, the hands don’t turn anymore
The days turn into nights, empty hearts and empty places
The day you lost him, I slowly lost you too
For when he died, he took a part of you

Death is only a chapter
So let’s rip out the pages of yesterday
Death is only a horizon
And I’m ready for my sun…
I’m ready for my sun to…
I’m ready for my sun…
I’m ready for my sun to set

This is suicide season!

If only sorrow could build a staircase, or tears could show the way
We would climb our way to Heaven, and bring him home again
If only sorrow could build a staircase, or tears could show the way
We would climb our way to Heaven, and bring him home again

If only sorrow could build a staircase, or tears could show the way
We would climb our way to Heaven, and bring him home again
We would do anything to bring him back to you
We would do anything to end what you’re going through

If only sorrow could build a staircase, or tears could show the way
I would climb my way to Heaven, and bring him home again
I would do anything to bring him back to you
Because if you got him back, I would get back the friend that I once knew”