If you have a soft spot for cross stitch and tattoos, the work of this artist could well be your new favorite thing. Turkish tattoo artist Eva Krbdk is carving a new niche out for herself in the world of body art. She inks up cute, simple and striking designs for clients who are looking for something a bit different.
Krbdk tattoos anything from Marilyn Monroe, to Darth Vader, to roses, foxes and popular sayings. She of course, isn’t only limited to cross stitch designs – there are tons of other tattoos on her Instagram account, including great watercolors and pixelated work. She has a great eye for color, geometry and simplicity. Not relying heavily on black, or outlines to create definition, she utilizes spacing and natural contrast to create her distinctive markings. (Via Bored Panda)
David Thompson, the artist behind Monsieur Cabinet is hilarious. His quirky and sometimes shocking sense of humor is paired well with his simple and almost childlike illustrations. Thompson is a master of visual humor.
Pascal Bernier’s art work depicts an ongoing theme about human and animal relationships. This Brussels based sculptor uses and manipulates different representation of animals to take a detached look at social behavior. Some of Bernier’s work is a social commentary about game hunting (and what is done to the animal’s body after it is killed); Bernier work represents animals in a very sad manner questioning your own ethics on animal rights.
Employing concrete barriers, make-shift housing and check points, Amze Emmons uses the architecture of refugees to paint urban disaster. His grim imagery is mismatched by a cheerful palette, creating the impression of Martha Stewart going wild with pastels in a war-torn camp. Emmons puts it dryly: “I’m interested in how strife, climate change, disasters and global migration effect the way folks live and the types of environments they build.”
Through elegantly beautiful works, Vandana Jain uses corporate logos and symbols, to study the effects of institutionalized repression. Her metaphor, an illusory philanthropy implies how corporations subliminally demoralize and enslave cultures. Her depiction manifests most commonly in an architectural setting, and through icons of religious nature including mandalas and totems. These logos are beautifully manipulated by Jain into mesmerizing works, that distract from the symbol’s intended purpose. Mostly working in installation, Jain engages all media in this format including drawing, sewing, painting and video. Her most recent project, “Dazzle” is the result of her residency at Brooklyn’s Smack Mellon. For the project, Jain created a series of murals, inspired by naval camouflage used during world war l. Before sonar, brightly colored lines were painted on warships in various patterns. These were used to confuse the enemy of a ship’s size, speed and direction. Jain applied the same technique to the huge interior walls of Smack Mellon. In colored artist’s tape, her familiar corporate logos are masked behind camouflage, which continues her conversation with the corrupt and exploitive nature of corporate brands. Her training as a textile designer comes through in the pattern making ability needed to make the walls come alive. The dazzling lines recall circus tents and opt art made in the 60’s and 70’s.
Personally, I never understood how dudes could sit in perfect rapture in their basements, eating cereal and wearing vans, watching other dudes ride around on wooden planks with wheels for hours on end. (OK, I secretly wanted to be one of those dudes.) Anyways, thank you, Salazar for creating a dusty, semi-mystical video with colored smoke and potions that at least, for an instant, made me feel what it’s like to be one of those dudes.
Louise O’Rourke’s photographs document not just the idea of rejected beds as a form of waste, but more so, the repetition of intimate objects made sadly public with age, which moves her work into a particularly lonesome study of humanity’s careless romance with things.
From Toy Story to the Velveteen Rabbit, children’s literature seems to capitalize on a similar theme that O’Rourke tugs at here: because our beloved objects don’t age gracefully– or even at all– they get thrown away and easily replaced. We don’t even need to see the newer model to know that it is there. It is always there: lingering. Waiting. The job of an object is to selfishly service us until we are done with it. These are the rules. In this sense, objects can never win. Caught in limbo, O’Rourke’s wayfarer beds transition onto the street, heart exposed, welcoming vagrants or rodents. A sad Dickens’ death. It is not a story of waste, but love. Wherever the new bed is, the old bed is not, and will never be again.
However, there is a sign of hope. O’Rourke also notes the value of reinventing old finds such as discarded photographs, of which she peels at the emulsion, saving the scraps, to create a new context and authorship of the image, one that is more ephemeral or abstract.
She states, “By removing the emulsion, I further remove the photograph from the event and even claim the moments that stand out to me. By physically altering the found image with no negative to reprint from, I create my own narrative from those previously captured stories.”
Perhaps, through art, there is life after love for objects.