TOL / TREE OF LIFĒ (Digital) (lēgends)
In this digital version of the tree of life, I’ve tried to describe an episode of my novel book “the phāntom whispers” which will I hope to finalize this year, when I have to visualize better a situation in my Novell, I am painting that situation and make it more real then I learn about the situation better and it helps me both ways.
I will share a quote from my book, translated by my dearest friend Amre (spicē)
“I find myself walking in the times without time on a path without a path in the wilderness of no-where, in twilight times that repeat themselves endlessly, suns rise and set and do not rise to the mid-sky, only a bloody light casts its shadow on a giant sunbeam, long flickering silhouettes and nothingness, nothing is clear until you really get close to it.
I look for the place where the purple sun rises and walk towards it, the air becomes denser and I am starting to sweat, I don’t know if it’s excitement or because the heat is increasing.
I approach a huge and branched tree, its trunk is so thick and its cracked and withered branches seem to be older than anything I’ve seen in my life and I decide to stop and rest in its shade, I sit down and feel I have no strength to hold my existence anymore, my eyes shut and all I want to do is to fall asleep, something drains all the energy of my life from me, I breathe heavily and can no longer remember anything, I must have fallen into a deep dreamless sleep or lost consciousness, I don’t know how long I that way, but when my eyes awaken I was observing the most beautiful scenario I might ruin in words by trying to describe.
* poo poo poo poo poo poo poo * noises of a flame turning off and on for a long while from all sides, I don’t know where to focus my gaze, my mind is distracted from all sides.
Countless little firebirds surround the old tree, the branches that have kissed the dried land stand firm and are surrounded by blossoming green needles leaves, between them protrude yellow and similar oranges, flat embers, these are the fruits of the fire tree that rose to life with the sunrise of the purple sun, my eyes are dazzled by the ancient tree that breaths along with the lost souls. it seems that they come to collect the boiling lava burning inside from his fruits, he revives every day anew and they dance around him, with every movement of their wings they turn off and turn on again *poo poo* like kisses of fire in the air that rise up and surround the territories.
The sun rises to the heārt of the sky and the birds of fire which are the lost souls have eaten the fruits of the ancient tree that has relaxed its muscles and is now withered again, I follow them for a while and arrive at a huge cemetery of the galleys, rowing ships of enormous dimensions, between which flow tributaries that flow into the lake and in which there is one ship I don’t know how it stands on its keel. in the bow I’m not sure if I envision or hallucinate a blurry figure in the distance, a one-armed man with something strange instead of a head, holding a bayonet and a sword around attacking the rickety ship, I feel my steps and walk towards Mr. Blurry.
Materials: Digital art, acrylic on tempered glass/plexiglass
Specialty: 3 moons effect
the heārtist [Jaa’heāl]
ārcanes: necromāncy, ālchemy, trānsmutation, illusiōn, evocātion, sūmmoning, conjurātion, divinātion, chārm