Tag Archives: tales

Yellow And Green: To X and others (Sept 2016)

 

Tim Yellow and Green
Yellow and Green By Victoriadeyemi. Dedicated to
Chalk and Acrylic.

Dedicated to X

Yellow and Green

Yellow and green like the natural valley underneath your sternum.
Yellow and green because I wear my heart on my sleeve.
Yellow and green like growth and mutual reliance.
Yellow and green because I have trusted you with so much and yet so little.
Yellow and green like when the hills kiss the sun.
Yellow and green because this ultimately came, without much thought or inquiry.

Dedicated to the people who happened into my life but managed to stay in.

Interpersonal relationships: Being in charge but also leaving enough room for the unknown.

An interpersonal relationship may sometimes seem overly centered around trying to make things work. The level of difficulty of this is often dependent on one’s ability to tolerate and willingness to understand. Although it is almost common knowledge that you cannot pick your family but you can pick your friends, some friends happen to you; like family or an unforeseen event. Sometimes they are disastrous, even catastrophic. Other times a wonderful surprise. You end up going through or coming out of it with thoughts like -what just happened?

For the most part of life we are not given a choice with regards to a majority of the stuff that happens to us. For instance: how we were born, the people we were born to, the struggles we were born to deal with or other circumstances we found ourselves in.

We may not really have a say when it comes to the people that happen into our lives, the ones we fall in love with, the ones that hurt us, the ones that we have to work with or those who become family along the line. However, we do have a great amount of discretion when it comes to deciding who stays in. We just need to be wise with how we use this choice.

 

Testing. (Mar 2016)

Testing
Testing by victoriadeyemi.
Colouring pencils. And lack of sleep.

I wish I could come up with a better name. But only this made sense.

Testing.

If eyes are the windows to the soul, we should be able to see tales in peoples’ eyes. What then should be assumed of people whose eyes say nothing?

Is  “Genuineness” the defining factor in the difference between real helpers and people-pleasers?
I presume the right answers can be found when you search each heart. But no one is willing to, because sometimes we find the ugliest things buried deep.

True treachery lives deep inside the heart of men. And it is the sole creator of chains that bind.

Part 2
What should you do when the precious things that surround you become an actual ring of fire?
Rapidly closing in on you.
Sometimes, It is a lot easier to set yourself ablaze than to put out the flames.

 Especially when you only have your hands.

Once, I hastily tried to put out the scorching  flames with nothing but my hands. Even as the fire roasted my flesh, It took me a while to realise that there was sand underneath my feet.

Cool sand.

Sand that I could have easily kicked over the fire.

Tales From the Children of the Light (Deception) Aug2015

Deception (2) victoriadeyemi
Deception (2) victoriadeyemi

Deception was made with acrylic paint, but I used poster colour as the base for just her skin. Everything from her wide set eyes to the colours and the positioning of the flowers were carefully thought out because it was all supposed to be symbolic. Which is very uncharacteristic of me, I usually go with the flow.

On the horizon he created the…
morning stars.
Light came and darkness did not understand it. It fled.
We knew, we told ourselves that we knew but we didn’t, because although we knew, we did not understand.
And when we saw the stars and were fearful, we said we knew but we did not because we did not understand.
Without understanding we couldn’t see and there was more darkness. Thus in the confusion we were weak and sinned and we started to know less but were adamant that we knew.
We took the darkness and shrouded ourselves in it. But the darkness took so much from us; including our sight. And then we became afraid.
We called upon his name and though he was angry and could not look at us, he wrought for his name’s sake.
So that we may know that He Is GOD.
As soon as he showed us the light, we were delighted and could say with certainty that we knew.
But as it was handed to us we took the light in one hand and stroked the warm, comforting and familiar surface of darkness with another.
And we said now we know but we need to say one last goodbye to this thing that mercilessly hurt us. We made excuses to be near it again, because it confused and intrigued us.
Again we fell and darkness covered us and gross darkness covered our eyes and made our bones weak; It continued to steal from us.
But it couldn’t steal our lives, because of his grace and because of his name, because nothing would happened until he agreed to it.
In the end we said we were still alive because we knew.
However;
we did not know, we don’t know, we don’t understand.

Tales from the Children of the Light (Wild Things) Oct 2015

Wild things victoriadeyemi
Wild things victoriadeyemi

Wild Things is the first time I have used paint on canvas since summer. I find acrylic paint a lot harder to use than chalk and even oil paints; because it isn’t as obedient or flexible. But only acrylic paint could translate into this on canvas and the more I use it, the more I find new ways to deal with it. I think the beauty of this piece are her eyes, I think they are powerful and defiant but also dead. They are capable of telling the whole story.

Time and time again, I have told myself that…
I am a wild thing.

I will never be tamed.
I never want to be caged.

Wild things cannot be contained because they will eventually venture out.
Wild things cannot be owned because they have no regard for authority.
Their spirit remains uncrushed, defiant.
And you can see it in their eyes that they hate you.

Wild things can be loved.
But you shouldn’t ever love a wild thing.
It would shatter your heart and leave with half of the pieces.

However, no one obeys this solid rule.
They are continually disappointed when they find out that I slipped out through their fingers yet again .

And I, hurt because I never remember that it is in man’s nature to want to own wild things. Especially when he loved it.

So, in trying to avoid being hurt or caged, I created my own impenetrable fortress.
Wherein I was a merciless master, a ruthless warden and an obedient prisoner.
There was no escape, no matter where I went, I kept running into myself.

Tales from the Children of the Light (I lost my way) Sept 2015

I lost my way
I lost my way
I lost my way is the second chalk piece I’ve done in France and the third time I have ever used chalk on black paper. The colours and the movement were inspired by a piece I heard in a concerto. I’m sure the man said it was Handel, but it sounded a lot like Mozart.

I am Human.

Born strong of pain and strive
I wander the earth searching, wanting.
My wants are an endless list. A bottomless pit.
And the list isn’t entirely mine because most of it was imposed on me. I did not know how to say no,
because it was supposed to be for my own good.
I did not know how escape it,
because there was no where to go,
and everybody else was running in the wrong direction.
So the things I possessed started to own me too.
And as time went on my aspirations and ambitions started to control me .
Now I no longer know whats mine.
However I can’t help but think… if everything I wanted and strived for made me who I am today,
then I am probably not who I thought I was.

Tales from the Children of the Light (Fear)

Fear
Fear

Fear is the second time I have ever used chalk on black paper. Tales from the Children of the Light is a series, inspired by the many interesting random strangers I met over summer and how they made me think. But I couldn’t get around to doing this until now because (I guess) writing in France is a lot easier, I usually come up with this stuff at the oddest times (like I came up with Fear at church and the next one at a concerto). Enjoy.

Fear

I think I was afraid…
I was afraid of love and honesty,
because they seemed unattainable.
I was afraid of hatred and deception,
because they could carve out eternal wounds.
I was afraid of seeking perfection because it did not seem to exist.
I was afraid of imperfection because it was not worthy of me.

I think I was afraid of tears because they were worthless.
But I was also scared of not being able to cry because it was an indication that I had become emotionless.
I think I was afraid of the dark because it was seemingly safe. But it lied to me and blinded me. I could not see.
I was afraid of the light because although it trusted me to be able to bear the truth, it revealed so much. And in an instant, I could see everything.

I think above all I was afraid of my fears, they were illogically logical, and they had the power to control and to cripple me.

But only if I let them.