I have two blogs that I have been forced to upload to https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fadinginfluencerblaze because of Wordpress.com (s) refusal to publish my articles. The last thing that has been read from anyone from there was the story about the Gypsy's from Chicago. There has been a lot going on since then and many may be unaware. So I would like to take the time and share those two articles that were denied publication rights, on the one place, where everything is acceptable.
THIS FIRST ARTICLE IS IN ASSOCIATION WITH THE ART WORK: https://www.newgrounds.com/art/view/adventvoice/fallen-dreams
Disclaimer~ Art is devised by me and all editorial work is a solo operation. “Fallen,” will be my last publication before my vacation: https://adventvoice.newgrounds.com/news/post/1057611 If you would like commissions or requests for art work done please visit my patreon account https://www.patreon.com/AdventVoice https://adventvoice.newgrounds.com/news/post/1057550 https://adventvoice.newgrounds.com/news/post/1057522
From several authorities of art and creativity, I’ve heard something after completing “Loving My Dragon,” something I’ve not heard since I was sixteen. My ability in the arts is worth more than a few hearts, likes and the endorsements of a few passerbys. It is better than what people have been forced to digest in the past twenty four years. Could be longer really. Depends on your tolerance for main stream media.
Forced to settle, due to never being exposed to minds similar to my own. Which there are a lot of us. I’ve realized as I dig deeper into the internet, blogs, and journals of other dreamers.
There was a study, a social experiment really, given by Facebook and other online platforms, seeking to gauge how to rate worker performance by emoji. Wanting to reward creative minds who earn the most accolades and applause of the people. It can become rather addictive and I find I may be falling into that same trend. Advertising more or less for the approbation of people and not so much for pay.
I explained this to a few supporters and they were shocked. Believing me to be worth far more than the few seconds of increased impressions on twitter and the level of dinner table conversation I can influence with a few well directed bards and illustrations of the latest trending topic.
Now if only I could find a paying sponsor that believes the same thing. Then me and the Dream Weaver would really go places. Here’s the thing about me, that is different from your average ambitious and dedicated creator. I don’t want to go anywhere my friends won’t be invited to reap the benefits.
I’ve seen too much in this life to believe I can do anything on my own and be a success at it. You know I remember a time when people could have 500+ Facebook friends and no one spend a dollar with or on each other. On anything that could turn a profit. Nearly a thousand people talking, interacting, mingling and no money is made on the effort. Oh there is a lot of sexy talk, a lot of people locked up cause the girl is underage and the guy is enthralled with her pictures. Oh there was a lot of room fo shows like “Cheaters,” to corner a market in tracking people via location recognition devices on the broadband signatures, but for nearly ten years, no one was making any real money that would put them on the Forbes list as the best entrepreneur, besides those buying out all of the larger retail stores and Disney. Could be why I spend so much money on everyone else and not on myself. Makes me feel like I am saving the small business owners world, one click at a time.
The loss of Tina-Raze on the internet and access to her work has really made me appreciate the gift of visibility attributed to my own work. Sure I desire a physical gallery, but that cost money and you need dedicated staff. An online gallery is a one man show that will last as long as I have material, drive and an interactive audience. But when outside forces wage against one’s output and you are forced to erase everything and the years put into a showcase are no longer accessible; there is something daunting in the realization that everyday I have a chance to present anything, it should not be wasted on the trivial.
That is a sharp word because I highly doubt any of us have the authoritative right to define what is relevant or trivial to a creator. We can choose to interact with a product of not but we can’t say what someone was seeking to share has no value and thus erase them from existence. Not if we have any respect for the sanctity of the culture of art and the freedom in which we universally share this gift.
~ I can never say enough of how much I appreciate the time we shared and I hope you return to the creative scene soon Tina-Raze.~
I was reviewing “The Action Bible,” published by David Cook and illustrated by Sergio Cariello. It is an extensive publication that sought to illustrate the entire Bible, without the mistakes seen in previous renditions. It really took that whole group a while to find the best method to bring the Bible to life for young and old readers. I enjoyed their expressive illustrative skills and dedication to keeping to as much as can be had with a book as fantastic as the Bible.
What surprised me was the decision to eliminate the wings of angels and go with the ‘golden locks,’ signature. For years the wings of angels and demons played a big part in aiding people in separating the two worlds. Without the wings, we are no more than disembodied spirits, ghosts of our formers selves and have a long journey yet to that pinnacle of glory that awaits the faithful. So it was taught to me at least.
There were a lot of ideas shared with me as boy that I spend little time contemplating now, because I am a man and more than assured of where I will be regardless of the mistakes in this life.
Others may doubt. Others may seek to clip my wings as I ascend. Others may project their insecurities and through bitter imaginations suggest that because of the curse of Ham, and Nimrod, the black race will never have a place in heaven. Some may build a whole world of fantastical proportions and place compartments, as zookeepers, locks and doors upon the gates, with signs that say, “If you never drank yourself into oblivion while on earth, you go here, you never loved anyone but God you go here, if you never where tempted to fuck a woman in the ass, though she begged for it, you go here.”
Another sign reads, “Collect your white wings for perfect attendance on the earth, to every Sunday meeting.” In this corner of heaven, you should have received a notice in your casket upon death, we were sure to send Gabriel, who after years of working for God, never got his golden winged promotion.
All who have been the black sheep of the family and have been to prison more than once in their life time be sure to collect your “black wings,” down isle five. Five is the number for grace and that is the only reason you’re hear, so don’t be cute and try to steal the ‘white wings,’ from your betters, who happen to shine a little sharper in hue and have more gold flakes in their hair.
Those who were on earth and always fought for a righteous cause but failed to achieve any victory and remain angry behind the loss, you will receive your ‘red wings,’ in the dust falcons chamber. Some of you were clumsy on earth. Always bumping into things. Could never walk in heels or win a fashion show. Never turned the heads of men or appealed to women. Had a haunch in you back from never learning poise and posturing. Be sure to pick up your set of ‘spotted owl,’ wings, found in the east gate.
God is a god of order and angles never complain about their lot in heaven. There in whatever state they are in, there, they are to be content. There is a hint of a karmic code in association with the hue and colors of heaven and I was never one to believe in eastern influences when it comes to what my place in heaven would be like. I bend so far on earth, doing what I am told, I will go to heaven with white skin, white wings and all curse will be lifted from my body upon death and the curse of the previous life that marred me and made me black, while I was alive.
I don’t think so. No, I’ve believed for a long time now that even black angles deserve to fly. https://avproductionsblog.wordpress.com/2017/11/03/even-black-angels-deserve-to-fly/ https://avproductionsblog.wordpress.com/2017/03/18/you-read-it-here-first-black-amethyst/
I know I am not one to be denied.
Those of you that know how to twirl and twerk and shake your tail feathers, to win the Twerk Team Auditionshttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rba9Z0CcWwQ&list=PLxwfHzPeMrG0N0E5Q3hBI_vRjXl-BqJAR or hang out with DJ UNK https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TeLdCPINh6M and earn 15 minutes of fame for being a video vixen with a phat ass, you can gather your eagle wings in the North tower. You should notice the Notorious BIG Smalls in the butlers uniform, set to serve and assist you wonderful ladies in fitting for your wings. He was always so good at zipping up Faith Evans dresses, we thought he’d like doing that for eternity.
Just stand there and zip wings.
He was way too dark and ugly so he never earned his own, but Puff Daddy sand and danced enough to ensure he’d make it in.
What a joke, eh that might have been a cheap shot to bring Puff Daddy and Biggie into this conversation, it’s just, I am so sick of color being a barrier for people I guess. But as long as there are people, it will play a part in the minds of men and women that hold their minds hostage and will build politics and kingdoms centered around it. We will split God into figures of hued stone that resembles us in some fashion and suggest if he looks like me, then he is the one that created me. Odd considering how I can create characters of different races, backgrounds and love each with as much joy as the next. Why would I doubt God would love me less because my hair is not wavy or red and ruddy and my skin is not peached or pinked, but bronzed and red? Why is my tolerance for people and the curves, shapes and hues greater than that of a god and I am a mere man?
King Solomon, black but comely: I am glad I’ve never heard it taught, due to Solomon’s hue of skin the temple came down. Why are we so caught up with color that we would actually base our safety on it, risk our lives for it? When in the middle of turmoil, pain, upheaval, or simply in a moment of benign joy during an annual parade in the city, color should be the last thing discussed.
Ever since I was a boy, I’ve held a rigid position on color talk. I had to be set because all of my friends where white. My first love was a gothic princess, that used to put a cat collar and a leash around my neck. I lived in New Jersey and traveled to upstate New York and Ohio all the time and had so much fun playing video games, poker or reading comics with white people. Lived in Kansas where they tried to make me where a confederate uniform for the JROTC program. I did not know if it was a joke of if they really felt I would be honoring someone’s death by wearing that uniform.
I sought to be above the barriers poised by classification and color because I am an artist. Because I am a storyteller and find relevance in people and can’t deny anyone based on my insecurities. I would not want someone to look at me and deny me access to anything. A communicable discussion, a forum, anything political, or my own comfort and what I believe to be good for me because of my color, because their preconceived beliefs denotes I should be marginalized.
I laughed myself into stitches, when during my junior year of highschool I realized all of the black children expected me to eat my lunch on the wall and away from the ‘preppy-white,’ children because they decided to self-segregate. Because they felt they did not have a life style or come from a family that could afford to play golf at the local country club. That they would not and were not admitted to be apart of a society setting our grandparents and great grandparents were conditionally denied. I was infuriated by the idea of having to defend my home and right to existence, from people of my own color, if I ever married an Asian, white, Indian, Arab, anything besides a black woman. Especially to look at me, you’d never out right believe I was of African decent until I grew out my hair, which I would wear proudly, long and wild.
Fredrick Douglas had nothing on me in my desire to topple the walls the youth of my generation would build around themselves for the sake of traditions that should have been long dead. I would have loved to ignore this conversation, but it is all over the conservative radio, it is misdirected or used callously on liberal stations and it’s become too easy to degrade someone you might disagree with on a benign social discussion, as a racist.
It is too easy to believe I don’t attribute credibility in the claim when you call me an Uncle Tom because I speak well and try very hard not to curse when it would be so much more convenient to do so.
Honestly in the world of art this should never be a discussion and if life truly imitated art in this dynamic the world would be a better place. At least confrontation and schisms would not be as prevalent as it is today. To me it is like we begin the topic of hues and what is beautiful or seen in heaven, because we don’t have anything else to talk about.
I illustrated “Fallen,” as a response to how ridiculous of an idea of not being accepted by God or anyone would feel that way, because they are black. That someone would use the Bible to teach that and we would stop illustrating wings when talking about angels, in order to unify the spectrum of colors that make up our world into the kingdom of Zion.
Hard to imagine; in some aspects we still can’t agree on a marketable environment that unites black, white, Asian, and Indian dreamers.
THIS SECOND ARTICLE IS ASSOCIATED WITH THE ART WORK: https://www.newgrounds.com/art/view/adventvoice/armageddon
I received my book from FAKKU.com and it is wonderful, just a shame I could never share it with anyone or read it in public or anywhere besides the comfort of my solitude and dark spaces. I don’t know, I bought it, so I’ll be able to make time to finish it. I am excited with how well “Fallen,” has come along.https://www.newgrounds.com/art/view/adventvoice/fallen-dreams https://www.patreon.com/AdventVoice,https://www.deviantart.com/adventvoice/art/Fallen-803479192 I have not illustrated an angel in quite some timehttps://www.newgrounds.com/art/view/adventvoice/we-are-going-old-school and to have the opportunity to do so in response to a lot of negativity that has been broadcast by conservative and secular programs. I’d love to be able to soar over and surmount in real life and it feels good to get it off my chest.https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fadinginfluencerblaze “Fallen Dreams,” be sure to read the article and let me know what you think.
You know I am an artist first and foremost. I am owning it, then I write everything, I edit my own work, correct blogs, connect old stories with new ones, and I love to speak to the world through pictures. Well after “Fallen,” there is a second piece which could be considered the follow-up to the previous conversation. A discourse that was not given much opportunity to see the light of day, through Wordpress.com or any of my connected online galleries and forum sections. Not only are wings to be associated with demons and angels, but when we talk about them, it was always understood that their actions were the direct response or command of, an all powerful god. I say that because the demons answer to their leader and the angels answer to their own leader. It is good verse evil, darkness against light, purity against impurity. That was the tradition. This is the reason for wars, death by chemical warfare, plague, pestilence, children being held with their families or alone in detention centers, without food and toilet paper. This is why we can watch on television government workers playing theoretical tennis with the issues because neither side wants to be correlated with death camps, incinerators, or concentration camps, by illustrators. Painted with the brush of artists like me that does agree there are concentration camps akin to those used in North Korea, in America no matter what those, who did not find the story first, try to tell you. “Cough,” Glenn Beck, ‘your a lying, filthy mouthed troglodyte that won’t be seen in heaven because you keep breaking the ten commandments.’
Just felt like adding that in there cause it is true.
I don’t want him to feel safe because I only illustrated Hillary Clinton and Mueller and not him. I don’t find him attractive enough to illustrate and I don’t know who’d I have fucking him in the ass yet. Maybe Kellyanne Conway, she likes fat men. They all make it too easy to rag on them. I should not be so childish but I am on my 4th of July, vacation as I write this.
Anyway the notion of good and evil being orchestrated by winged beings who whisper in the ear of those with or without influence; I mean just ordinary people can help to move a story along and they are just as susceptible to the supernatural as the President of the United States, whom many may feel is untouchable, but will have to answer for his deeds in the next life, like all of us, is how “Armageddon,” is framed.
For centuries a prophet has come and sought to shed light on which the angels do not know and if they did know, would only be following orders and could not seek to change anything, even if they could. I personally stopped trying at the age of fifteen because I realized, there is a lot I can do before the world ends and I earn my wings.
The month of June was so odd. Wordpress.com (www.avproductionsblog.wordpress.com) Reddit, DeviantArt.com, sites I use to publish articles that give hightlights about present art pieces, and future projects, to promote commissions, requests, and access to my online galleries featured on https://adventvoice.newgrounds.com/ https://twitter.com/Scope2Mars, refused to publish “Fallen Dreams.”
Out of all of my publications, my dilution of the Mueller Report:https://www.newgrounds.com/art/view/adventvoice/mueller-report , my cries against For-Profit-Prisons:https://www.newgrounds.com/art/view/adventvoice/dream-wavers-aim and overall censorship of creative material, none have ever been deleted, or refused visibility. It was really disturbing; I thought it was something I said, so I moved some things around. Deleted this and that and by the time I was done, there was little to read, yet still I was ‘shadowed banned,’ or whatever that is and all I sought to say was, “Even Black Angels Deserve To Fly!” https://avproductionsblog.wordpress.com/2017/11/03/even-black-angels-deserve-to-fly/ I personally felt the denial of publication rights was due to the giant black angel, but they kept the picture, they refused the words associated with the art. Anytime a person is denied the right to publish an article,I was always intrigued and made to ask, “What is so damaging in that article, that no one should be allowed to read it?” It is those kinds of questions that made “The Davinci Code,” by Dan Brown, “Harry Potter,” by J.K. Rowling, “Dangerous Liaisons,” by Choderlos de Laclos , or Gustave Flaubert ‘s “Madame Bovary,” and several other stories famous, well read and desired by the masses. “Fallen Dreams,” is not a large article. I purposely was not trying to drag out the conversation or bore my readers with a long winded monologue. It does cut to the heart of how I feel about our role as people to curb color barriers in our present culture. Thanks to Tumblr, your able to read the article without the Paid-per-view requirements of my other sites, https://www.patreon.com/AdventVoice
The drama surrounding the article I had hoped to use to guide readers to pay for something that would not have been read anywhere else.
Other online platforms were so against allowing, ‘Fallen Dreams,’ to see the light of day, I’m not even sure if it’s good to mention it, if I desire to have anything else published. Be assured my present apprehension to share my thoughts, has nothing to do with fear of ridicule. I’d rather be told what made someone rebuff me, thus adjustments can be made to correct my ways, opposed to outright denial access to a public forum. With nothing more to gauge a reaction on, than that of the mentioning of black people equally obtaining the right to heaven.
“Armageddon,” is the cover art of this publication. That is what my summer will consist of, showing the world how dark, drab, dreary and repulsive it would be if artists did not exist. If we did not have the ability to take bleached parchment, use the art of calligraphy and the education of the times to chronological the day to day affairs of this world. Things would have gone boom a long time ago.
That could be an exaggeration, but I am sure there is a museum of propaganda art, from WWII, the Vietnam War, Cold War, etc, etc, that inspired you to take a stand, to choose life over death and end the Armageddon’s of our present lifetime.
Is that not what American’s were doing when they were in Cambodia, paving the way for the free world to set up the golden arches along the mountain side? The Dream Weaver holding a briefcase with pieces of parchment and what looks like blank sheets of paper flying in an updraft that does nothing to move the nuclear and radioactive cloud in the distance, without words, says a mouthful. It is hard for me to pin-point which moment in my life made me feel I was facing coming destruction and any amount of work I am able to produce or convey to the people will be as worthless as dust.
Can’t tell you what I’d equate in my life to be as devastating as the events of Hiroshima. I really feel insignificant compared to that day and doubt I’d ever be able to know how they felt or if I ever wanted to. I want to exist in the mind of the millions that have more respect for artists like Hudson & Company Tattoo Studio, than for that of the illustrator. I want to be remembered as an individual not afraid of challenging convention, always seeking to expand his environment and incorporate others into his very small section of the world. I want what would be considered worthless, in the midst of homelessness, unemployment, lack of health insurance, foreclosure of ones home, death camps, migrant detentions centers, Ebola outbreaks, death to ecol i, cancer treatment, radio active exposure, and poisoning, Marshal Law and police states that do not end because of talk of doing without government assistance and welfare would be treated as sedition, insurrection, and treason. To permeate the minds of those around me and release the spark of Wormwood, that when translated means Imagination.
I refuse to be an echoing memory lost in history never having the chance to impart my gift because the enemies of freedom were successful in creating silence. Before everything I hold dear is razed to the ground and replaced by GMOed Spider silk and we are expected to comply to man-made rules of self-preservation from an enemy that can not be seen and a threat materialized from paranoia, hysteria and mentally ill people. I will have my art in every home of the world, continuing to give hope to the dream weaver’s in us all.
BOTH WERE DENIED PUBLICATION RIGHTS AT WWW.WORDPRESS.COM and I really can't tell you why right now. ANYWAY I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY THIS SUMMER!!