Install Theme

"Disappear" by Amy Strom.

Purchase this painting from my Etsy!

^^.^o^.^o^.^o^.^^

* This painting is my own original work. Amy Strom, 2014 (Aestrom Artwork).

kenfucky:

Orchid Mantis

this bug is prettier than me

(Source: theaterboy4life, via backpack-n-paintpictures)

"Waterfall Scene" by Amy Strom.

Purchase this original piece from my Etsy shop!

>^.^<

* This painting is my own original work. Amy Strom, 2014 (Aestrom Artwork). 

showslow:

Anne Ten Donkelaar: Broken butterflies repaired with new wings and bodies. (2011)

  • "Blauwe spinner". The body of this butterfly is made of thread
  • "De draadspanner". A construction of a butterfly wing with thread and pins 
  • "Medusozoa". The antennas form the parachute and the body forms a propeller 
  • "Zwart vlek vlinder". With two upper embroidered wings 
  • "Goudraffeltje". The broken butterfly wings are fixed with gold leaf

(Source: showslow, via alightwithfaith)

"The Turquoise Door" by Amy Strom.

To buy this piece, please visit my Etsy shop :)

**.*)(~~)(*.**

* This painting is my own original work. Amy Strom, 2014 (Aestrom Artwork).

steepravine:

Cascading Creek Through The Redwoods

I went for a 6.5 mile hike in the rain today with a buddy, and then capped it off with a 3.5 run when I got home to round out a nice 10 mile day!

(Marin, California - 3/2014)

(via lelupa)


"Greyhound Watching the Sunset" by Amy Strom.

Visit my Etsy for more original paintings / request a custom piece pretty please. I love painting and making people happy with the finished product :)

* This piece is my own original work. Amy Strom, 2014 (Aestrom Artwork).


Of Internal Ache, Eternal



I speak droplets of confusion’s bane;
 
Bottled and shaken. 
Ataxia turning in churned carbonation,
All the while humming a worn fabrication: 

I’m handle and spout to my twin’s acrid tears — 
Her sane on the wane in the high ward. 
Seared, overgrown gardens of cerebral fears; 
Ignoring the internal soothsayer’s sneer…

…A lie, notwithstanding 

Let me cry; wring my hands, ‘til their bones turn to dust,
Now I catch long-craved boons in quelling what I must.
Until this uncertainty breaks from its cage, 
We shall sip of my seething mistrust.



- Amy Strom


(via nicocacolaaa)

Soul of Spine



Fear blooms from her betrodden lungs
In poisonous waves, like Houndstongue
Barbs biting deeply into whomever brushes past
Grave words are etched into her eyes:
Do not attempt to quench my cries!
The closer they get, the deeper the sickness seeps in.


And it’s a lonesome life she lives
Revoking all she ever gives
To save them from that burn of her spewing affliction
Lovers flee fast from her embrace
Though she’d dismiss them with raw haste
Before all else: Safety, in shadow. Her prison.




- Amy Strom, 2013.