Studio Art AP Breadth Artwork

There are two sections for my Studio Art class. For the AP portfolio board you have 12 breadth projects and 12 concentration projects. What do theses terms mean though? the Breadth section of your portfolio corresponds with the teacher's assignments, so basically you have a decent amount of restrictions. The concentration section is 12 pieces on a specific concentration, mine is to illustrate complex emotions and feelings in abstract design and symbolism. I'll delve into that work more at another time when I post my concentration work.

Here are some of my Breadth projects, as I scan more, I'll post them.

#12 - Positive/Negative Space - "Don't Trip, Forest Tadpole!"
Description: The assignment, at it's most basic instruction, to only have positive space in the piece.
Materials: Ink Pen & Acrylic Based Ink
 
Here are two pics of the process, and one of the final product.

A small bit of DIY

 Today I transferred an old XL size Frosthradr tee onto a small plain black shirt. - Frosthardr is a great Christian black metal band, check them out: http://www.myspace.com/frosthardrfanpage  -  This is really cool for me because I haven't worn this shirt since I wore XL shirts. So about 3 years ago. I'm planning to do this with my other old metal shirts too, I'm pretty pumped about it. And once the latest parcel comes in the mail, I'll have the rest of my patches for my battlevest and I can finish patching it. I'll post pictures of it too, once it's finished. In other news the Haiti earthquake happened about a year ago. Everyone at school pretty much forgot about it. I'm kind of bummed out.

Welcome Winter.

This stressful land has come back into my travels.  The radiator chatters for new coolant as I pass through the murky mire.  It's hot to the point of boils blistering on my skin, it freezes me to shivering heap, wounded and fetal.  An intense mental tangle of situations, morals, relationships, people, and circumstance all make up what is left of my tried cranial space.  I scrape at my scalp to no avail, as the twisted tapeworms of relation eat away at the soft gummy brain tissue.  The amount I could still take is uncertain, though I feel as if I cannot contain anymore frustrated bursts.  It's just... too much to hold.  My scraped knuckles hurt.  I keep calling Your name and I keep reaching out, but my application hasn't ceased.  I sick of the gloom, but it's what I've come to know.  Enveloping my character and reasoning, I slowly slip in the dense and dull haze.  I cannot see clearly.  Everything and anything horrifying and terrible that could be held in my fate seep as if un-permeated smoke through my orifices and rot at the worm eaten mental stability that survived.  It gets dark early and light late.  With all this confusion, nothing can settles or even wishes to, having no prospect of letting me rest.  As the fog creeps back, I am reminded of the dank past, and ominous future.  Cry for me ravens.  Weep for me a joined, deep cackle of sorrow.

The Mountain Goats - This Year

The Hextalls - We're The Castle Crashers

Slipping

Sometimes I wonder,
Do I carry too much?
Or is it too little?
All of it keeps slipping out of my hands.
Indifference is so hard to keep away in this.
Without responsibility or true caring,
it...
just...
vanishes.
Should be a shame really.
Maybe it just phases.
I guess that's how life works.
Come and go.
Not much lasts.

Add It To The Pile

It's just one more.
It's just one more.
That's what I keep trying to tell myself.
My my senses disagree with my ears alone.
But my selfishness is too strong, and I take up the aspirations of a weakling.
Curled up, I lay in defeat.
In defeat from myself.
I am too blind to lift up my calls to Him, I am too set down in my sin that my intelligence left.
I clothe myself in such foolishness, the fever reaches my body in anxiety.
This shouldn't matter, but it does.
I'm tired of the let down, rarely it seems I get a pick-up. but who am I to complain?
It's sometimes my only route, cause running is my best defense.
I'm sick of it. I'm worn and pissed off now.
It's pretty disgusting how self-centered I am about acceptance.
The ever full glass spills over with oozing and heavy foam, stress flows.
But my "oh so tragic" plight is hollow, and yet i fell struck with mighty bipolar waves they emanate.
What's the point? If everyone will let me down, I'm almost ready to give up trying.
It's never fully directed at me, but I fall the farthest.
Why?
What is in my make-up that causes such a volatile reaction.
I just want to get through my time not in bitterness or anger, nor with any spite.
Yet still it's never enough. 
I am foolish.
I am restless.
I am a coward.
Add it to the pile.