SYNESTHESIA PT. 2 - Feelings in Negative: speechless-- shame
The sixth and final piece in my "SYNESTHESIA PT. 2 - Feelings in Negative" painting collection, "speechless-- shame" is a 16" x 20" acrylic painting on stretched canvas. This is a painting that depicts what I'm feeling in my head and soul when I feel ashamed. Consider this my coming of age, an upside down self portrait, throat slashed, speechless, ashamed. This piece is about how I've always been made to feel ashamed of my sexuality by the people surrounding me and how it still makes little to no sense to me.
"SYNESTHESIA PT. 2 - Feelings in Negative" is an acrylic, abstract, neo-expressionism painting collection that depicts what is going on inside my head visually when experiencing or thinking about certain emotions and feelings through use of dark atmospheres and bright neon colors. Each painting is accompanied by a poem that is written while staring at the painting.
The owner of this NFT (3778 x 4762 JPG asset) will also receive the signed original 16" x 20" acrylic on canvas painting (fingerprint verified for authenticity) and the handwritten poem (signed). Please email meshiv0527@gmail.com or dm @mickle_shiv on twitter to discuss shipping information and bid offers when bidding on this piece.
the poem that accompanies this piece:
panoramic-heteromantality.
close but no connection the severance of the snakes is Severus in his robes, the ropes of my constriction make it harder to unfold. scripts and scraps of paper on the corner of my neighbors, lost posters with pictures plastered, photos of me with "WANTED" posted above my dome. head and shoulders, kneeling in the throne, thrown to fields of dirt and bone, ashes from past wars fought on my behalf, the withering of the face. my statue is now shattered on the floor, the civilians had enough and they kicked me in the throat. now my words can only be written and they're illiterate so I'm cloned, for the betterment of society and then thrown inside my cone. I was made to feel ashamed, blamed for nothing I did wrong, in the mirror I'm a clown in my mother's makeup, astounded by the face, I'm laughing and then I wake up. ambiguous and tenuous tendrils wrap around my lover, it feels like magic when we're alone under the covers. though, confused by what I am, a label doesn't seem to fit. tender to the subject, flustered by its meaning when I come to think of it. who was I born to love? was I birthed to even love? I'm bothered by the fact that I'll never seem to understand, my sensuality is based in romance, but it's not the same as who I'd fuck. this is what it's like when I'm alone under the covers, thinking to myself that I'll never find another. my throat slit, I'm speechless with the shame of my decisions. with no guts, I'm gutless sitting in the blame of my own prison. felt serial, milk and cereal overnight. test dummy, sex symbol-- crash. resembles crash cymbals, turn signal-- crash.
source tweet: https://twitter.com/mickle_shiv/status/1359502449573265419?s=20
