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Submitted on
February 3, 2007
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Passion Pangs by wroth Passion Pangs by wroth
------ updated October 28th '08, fine art print added ------



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Image Description:
I can not be the only artist, I think, consumed by a need for art? Not a desire, a need I mean. Like oxygen feeding the fire of passion, it must be [and is] always close to my mind in some way or all passion would suffocate, and life end with it. [for what is life worth without passion?] In such as way does art become life, or at lest an expression of the act of living itself.

How does such a need take hold though? How did it take shape for you, if it ever did? Did maybe a relentless inward turn of the mind onto itself produce such compressive force that the brain was crushed in to a liquid sphere of white hot intellect and lighting? That sent silver tendrils flashing down one's throat into the deepest empty places of one's chest [the den of the weight of sadness] where it struck up an inferno that ate darkness itself as fuel? And with it's fire swept away all weaker passions [both the good passions and the bad passions], and freeing the heart from it's bloody physical trappings revealed a spiritual organ of gold standing bright among the flames? And did a molten mix of golden emotion and silver intelligence rush through one's veins to empower every molecule of one's body, igniting irises so they would illuminate the shadows of the world, enflaming hands so they would melt all barriers? And having forced itself into every atom of ones person, the heat then forced itself between atoms and swirled gold with silver in a violent maelstrom where in all turned to light? And was it then that all other expression of life seemed insufficient... ?

In all seriousness, I love this craft. I just hope I improve in my abilities so that one day they can fully compare to the will I have to drive them.

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(Open Edition) Print Version: Color Version

(also see the :bulletgreen:Black & White, :bulletred:Tone, and :bulletred:Inverse versions if online (green dot), or if offline (red dot) then write me and ask about availability.)
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:iconayaz-yildiz:
ayaz-yildiz Featured By Owner Apr 29, 2010  Student Photographer
I love the compossition of this picture. :clap:
Reply
:iconcalleena:
calleena Featured By Owner Dec 1, 2009
the most amazing thing about it is that this fire actually has a texture I haven't seen before, it's almost hair-like
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:iconwroth:
wroth Featured By Owner Dec 2, 2009
Thank you :aww:
Reply
:iconlapoetry-n-photo:
LAPoetry-n-Photo Featured By Owner Apr 19, 2009  Hobbyist Photographer
Your author's comment is long, and I wish my reply was too, but I don't want to sound repitious. All I have to say is: I know exactly what you mean. I was thinking just those thoughts for the past three days.

Great capture. I love fire. It's probably my favorite element, at least aesthetically.

:heart:
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:iconterrorcookie:
TerrorCookie Featured By Owner Nov 8, 2008
This looks incredible. You captured the intensity and the power so well.

Without passion we would merely survive and life is so much more. We all need to be passionate about something (as long as that passion isn't hurting anyone else).

Wonderful shot. :hug:
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:iconwroth:
wroth Featured By Owner Nov 8, 2008
Thanks Amber :aww: This is a central piece of my work I'm glad you like it.

And yes, there is more to life then life. There is living, for example.
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:iconterrorcookie:
TerrorCookie Featured By Owner Nov 9, 2008
:cuddle:

This reminds me of a quote...

" Some never participate. Life happens to them. They get by on little more than dumb persistence and resist with anger or violence all things that might lift them out of resentment-filled illusions of security."
--Chapterhouse: Dune (Alma Mavis Taraza) by Frank Herbert
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:iconforlornexistence:
ForlornExistence Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2008
wicked!! i love it!:horns:
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:iconwroth:
wroth Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2008
Cool I'm glad to hear that. Thanks for the feedback today! :salute:
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:iconsnowmask:
snowmask Featured By Owner Oct 29, 2008  Professional Traditional Artist
That's a powerful capture you have there, Shawn. So much that even my eyes sting, looking at it... reminds me of penetrating ash. Fortunately there's also the sensation of it merely rushing through... not staying. Or perhaps not so fortunate...
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