Tag Archives: Visual

Sleepless Stories: The Work of Rachel O’Donnell

SwingingSwinging, 30″ by 48″, acrylic & oil sticks on canvas, 2014

Born in Dallas, Texas, Rachel O’Donnell is an artist based out of the Brooklyn, New York area. With her BFA in Fine Art from Pratt Institute, she has spent the last five years pursuing an art career on the east coast. She has studied abroad and completed courses at Parsons Paris as well as London College of Fashion. Her work has been featured in art galleries, such as, The Painting Center, Westbeth Gallery, Greenpoint Gallery, and in the famed Seagram Building for a Gagosian Gallery sponsored show. She has also been published online by Vice Magazine and featured in the New York Times reviewed Bushwick Open Studios twice. Painting primarily portraits, Rachel O’Donnell’s work is known for its intriguing use of colors and expressionist qualities. Working primarily with acrylic paint and oil sticks, Rachel creates her works at her studio located in Bushwick, Brooklyn.
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Selected Works by Elle Kennedy

Kennedy Elle TORIS KANDY DREAM 2
Tori’s Kandy Dream II

I am a 23 year old British based artist seeking to document my experience of being transgender within a rapidly changing British society. I consider my work to be mixed media and conceptual. In addition to this I seek to illustrate the transgender experience internationally, notably within countries and societies which persecute the LGBTQ community. Continue reading

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“Nile in the Snow” and “A Photograph in Los Angeles, 1987″ by Jack Caswell

Jack Caswell - Nile in the Snow

Jack Caswell – Nile in the Snow

“A Photograph in Los Angeles, 1987″

When poets and prostitutes speak of the glory and freedom of the road, my heart explodes in summer showers of fiery passion. The dancing dream of leather and rubber grinding the gravel sends songs to my soundbox and bakes my beating breast piping hot.

But the parents’ eyes cut a black hole in the world, raging with forgotten dreams and ancient aspirations, every hopeless hope endowed on their children, whose spines already creak from months sleeping in a twisted heap in the back seat. The father’s arms clutch desperately around his bride’s worn, pale shoulders as his gaze pleads for shelter.

I stand here on the ledge, gazing down as a god. The portal remains closed, and, giving up, I turn to run. My palm across my face, I try vainly to remove the skin of a war-torn infant. The gravel itches my feet. Bleeding blisters slither against one another, as they did that night we lost our car, gambled away by my father’s monstrous beard, a universe to parasites.

And all at once I stutter and stop, silent, still, like stepping on the moon for the first time. And I see myself. I am my own, I swear, because tombstones gasp from the soil, waiting on names much like mine. I am my own, I swear, because my old back seat companion fucks a stranger, and a fountain springs out of her riches. I am my own, I swear, because the pale, worn shoulder hides in the mud, and it slowly ceases. Because I am still brave, and I am still compassionate, and I am still a man, I think.


The has been “Nile in the Snow” and “A Photograph in Los Angeles, 1987″ by Jack Caswell.

Jack Caswell is a playwright, screenwriter, and photographer living in Brooklyn, New York.

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