Amor Mundi and Pixel Chemist

Amor Mundi

Sunset Hill,  2005, Digital Art, Pixel Chemist

“Oh where are you going with your love-locks flowing

   On the west wind blowing along this valley track?”   

“The downhill path is easy, 

Come with me an it please ye,

We shall escape the uphill by never turning back.”

So they two went together 

in glowing August weather,   

   The honey-breathing heather 

lay to their left and right;

 And dear she was to dote on, 

   her swift feet seemed to float on the air like 

soft twin pigeons too sportive to alight.

“Oh what is that in heaven where 

gray cloud-flakes are seven,   

   Where blackest clouds hang 

riven just at the rainy skirt?”   

“Oh that’s a meteor sent us, 

a message dumb, portentous,   

   An undeciphered solemn signal of help or hurt.”

Sacrificial Lamb, 2012, Pixel Chemist

“Oh what is that glides quickly where 

velvet flowers grow thickly,   

   Their scent comes rich and sickly?”

—“A scaled and hooded worm.”

“Oh what’s that in the hollow, 

so pale I quake to follow?”   

   “Oh that’s a thin dead body 

which waits the eternal term.”

“Turn again, O my sweetest,

—turn again, false and fleetest:   

   This beaten way thou beatest 

I fear is hell’s own track.”

“Nay, too steep for hill-mounting; 

nay, too late for cost-counting:

   This downhill path is easy, 

but there’s no turning back.”

Dreaming Away the Clouds, 2006, Pixel Chemist

BY CHRISTINA ROSSETTI

All artwork is by Pixel Chemist (Brian Rollason) and is digital artwork.  You can find Pixel's Facebook Page under "thepixelchemist" and you can find him on deviantArt at http://pixelchemist.deviantart.com/.  

Pixel and I became FB friends a while ago as I fell in love with his work! I love the progression throughout his work where he utilizes past forms and shapes of his early artwork (which are often quite organic looking) into his new art work.  Pixel is an artist to continue watching as he continues to evolve and grow.... 

In the mean time, here are some more of my personal favorites.... Enjoy!

Mask of Deception, 2012, Digital Art, Pixel Chemist

Hobson's Paradox, 2007, Photoshop Digital Art, Pixel Chemist

Life's Little Surprises, 2012, Digital Art, Pixel Chemist

Consumed by Chaos, 2012, Digital Art, Pixel Chemist

I Wonder Why You Call to Me Nearly a Year Later Lovelace

To Althea, From Prison

'Longing For Freedom' Alicepopkorn

When love with unconfined wings
Hovers within my gates,
And my divine Althea brings
To whisper at the grates;
When I lie tangled in her hair,
And fettered to her eye,
The birds that wanton in the air
Know no such liberty.

 Florian Imgrund http://www.inthoughts.de/portfolio.html

When flowing cups run swiftly round
With no allaying Thames,
Our careless heads with roses bound,
Our hearts with loyal flames;
When thirsty grief in wine we steep,
When healths and draughts go free,
Fishes that tipple in the deep
Know no such liberty.

When, like committed linnets, I
With shriller throat shall sing
The sweetness, mercy, majesty,
And glories of my King;
When I shall voice aloud how good

He is, how great should be,
Enlarged winds that curl the flood
Know no such liberty.

'Free' by Alicepopkorn 

Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take, That for an hermitage;
If I have freedom in my love,
And in my soul am free,
Angels alone, that soar above,
Enjoy such liberty.

~by Richard Lovelace

Lovelace, dear friend, perhaps you call again because my mind is even freer, my imagination more full of hopes/dreams/desires/future.... Laurel leaves will come and go and wine may flow now but not later but I am here.... I am still here. 

I may be a temporary captive by my commitment to my degree at UF but I can see my freedom clearly on the horizon and my heart sings so loudly it thunders all other sounds; I have concentrated on my love of the arts and they have freed me even in my self imposed educational confinement and my joy and soul soar............ 

So now with only a matter of weeks from completing my degree. I know so much more, feel so much more, 'see' so much more, am so very much more.......

Donne Meets Martinakis

I have long been a fan of John Donne's poetry and of course I am in love with art.  As part of my journey at UF the other grad students will post when they come across artists, museums, ideas, schools, ect of interest and we are able to really share some really amazing work.  One artist I had not seen before was Adam Martinakis.  This is primarily because I specialize in Renaissance and Baroque and appreciate all other arts with sheer joy...  I was delighted to see the works and have passed his work on to many many of my peers.... Today when I came across 'The Ecstasy' to post I knew I had to post Martinakas' 'Last Kiss' with this poem... So I am hoping he doesn't mind and this is his blog, please check him out -http://adamakis.blogspot.com/

Last Kiss, Adam Martinakas, http://adamakis.blogspot.com/

THE ECSTACY
by John Donne


WHERE, like a pillow on a bed, 
    A pregnant bank swell'd up, to rest 
The violet's reclining head, 
    Sat we two, one another's best. 


Our hands were firmly cemented 
    By a fast balm, which thence did spring ; 
Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread 
    Our eyes upon one double string. 


So to engraft our hands, as yet 
    Was all the means to make us one ; 
And pictures in our eyes to get 
    Was all our propagation. 


As, 'twixt two equal armies, Fate 
    Suspends uncertain victory, 
Our souls—which to advance their state, 
    Were gone out—hung 'twixt her and me. 


And whilst our souls negotiate there, 
    We like sepulchral statues lay ; 
All day, the same our postures were, 
    And we said nothing, all the day. 


If any, so by love refined, 
    That he soul's language understood, 
And by good love were grown all mind, 
    Within convenient distance stood, 


He—though he knew not which soul spake, 
    Because both meant, both spake the same— 
Might thence a new concoction take, 
    And part far purer than he came. 


This ecstasy doth unperplex 
    (We said) and tell us what we love ; 
We see by this, it was not sex ; 
    We see, we saw not, what did move : 


But as all several souls contain 
    Mixture of things they know not what, 
Love these mix'd souls doth mix again, 
    And makes both one, each this, and that. 


A single violet transplant, 
    The strength, the colour, and the size— 
All which before was poor and scant— 
    Redoubles still, and multiplies. 


When love with one another so 
    Interanimates two souls, 
That abler soul, which thence doth flow, 
    Defects of loneliness controls. 


We then, who are this new soul, know, 
    Of what we are composed, and made, 
For th' atomies of which we grow 
    Are souls, whom no change can invade. 


But, O alas ! so long, so far, 
    Our bodies why do we forbear? 
They are ours, though not we ; we are 
    Th' intelligences, they the spheres. 


We owe them thanks, because they thus 
    Did us, to us, at first convey, 
Yielded their senses' force to us, 
    Nor are dross to us, but allay. 


On man heaven's influence works not so, 
    But that it first imprints the air ; 
For soul into the soul may flow, 
    Though it to body first repair. 


As our blood labours to beget 
    Spirits, as like souls as it can ; 
Because such fingers need to knit 
    That subtle knot, which makes us man ; 


So must pure lovers' souls descend 
    To affections, and to faculties, 
Which sense may reach and apprehend, 
    Else a great prince in prison lies. 


To our bodies turn we then, that so 
    Weak men on love reveal'd may look ; 
Love's mysteries in souls do grow, 
    But yet the body is his book. 


And if some lover, such as we, 
    Have heard this dialogue of one, 
Let him still mark us, he shall see 
    Small change when we're to bodies gone.