At the tender age of 18 I’ve had a reflection period of happiness and comfort in one single area , no wider or longer than 1,000 feet. Chamblee Tucker Rd to me was the best feeling of nostalgia and when I visited this area again I knew I had to take these pictures.  My IG is @cherrydont My name is Trevon Brown

The original title of the project is : Thought after TaughtIn search of the origins of personal understanding and by engaging with the forms of the once learned and since forgotten, I encourage my mind to wander and to question everything that surrounds us. I draw inspiration from the images of my everyday life accompanied by dreams, paintings, readings from philosophers, or by the sound of mus...

This is a series of illustrative bookart I created to pair with a recent piece of prose I wrote during my time in isolation. “Sinking beneath the surface of the nightThe sky and the ocean meld and split apart again,Indecisive lovers,Soft skin stretches across jutting bones,You pull your fingers through your hair and stretch upward, The long arching shape of your back,Casts shadows onto the bedr...

As a songwriter, musician and creator, one of the most exciting things about music is the awakening of previously stagnant parts of us that all come together in motion when we open ourselves to feel the all the edges and nuances within music. When you open your mind, close your eyes and allow a song to wash over you, take you away from the day and somewhere completely different in time, and to ...

Every photographer has an editing style the have. That style is unique to them and captures everything they want in their pictures. I call mine modern nostalgia. Modern nostalgia is when I edit a photo to make it look vintage, or old in a sense. However I bring out the colors and make them vibrant, and sometimes overly saturated. I do this so the photo has new life. I've been practicing this st...

a poem based off the film “nostalghia” dir. andrei tarkovksy, 1983. yes, “nostalgia” is spelt incorrectly, but the way tarkovsky spells it is with an h, so that’s how i spell it as well.

A poem by Marisa ColtabaughPine tree branches wave gentlyin the breeze that only exists in the shade.Standing on asphaltit’s hot,so hot. The sun beats down,baking me,just for having the gall to step outside, finding no reprieve by that elusive shade wind.I can feel the skin cancer under my sunscreen,the sharp burn and prickleon my skin after so many months of winter.Sweat beads form on my upper...

 

I should start by saying that I am OBSESSED with peacocks. They appear in my art, on the wallpaper in my home, throughout my sketchbook and I've lost count of the photos of them in my phone.The love affair started when I was really young - about 7 I reckon. We'd regularly head to Walton Gardens in Warrington on a Sunday afternoon. In the really early days, we'd all jump in my dad's kit car (roo...

As I sat in my childhood room for the last time listening to The Cure and thinking about all the other 23-year-olds who soundtracked their goodbyes with Robert Smith, I realised that I am a part of the lucky few who will be moving out during UK lockdown number three. Up until this point, I had only felt excitement about leaving the four walls I had spent the past almost-year staring at, willing...