Philliewig

Your resident fruitbasketcase.

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troy ounces by Philliewig, literature

Literature

troy ounces

Father, how our circumstances have changed. Remind me, as I'm honestly insincere; We weigh words in troy ounces, Waiting in the drone hours. Waiting within the drone hour. Father, how our circumstances have changed, Playing at sheep among the wolves. We toast to these bigger and better things Drinks clinked at the grown-up table, Weighing these words in troy ounces. Here we are Breathing sighs of relief in the drone hour While bombs fall overhead, weighed down in troy ounces at the table we share. We weigh words down with troy ounces, daring to live where ghouls dare not tread, Calling it paradise Under naked trees.

Seattle syndrome by Philliewig, literature

Literature

Seattle syndrome

My god, when they'd say We're all the lucky ones When they'll say We're the fortunate ones While here we're stigmatic Bleeding to the sound of drums. We are the medicated ones; The dedicated ones, Stricken with the Seattle syndrome, Praying for heroin and heroines All within the confines of a shot glass. We are the pretenders To the bone and satin throne; I am light suspended, The anhedonic imbecile, Symptomatic of the fattened men, Of weary men. We are the stricken ones, The afflicted ones. Here we are as a thousand suns At home under the naked trees, Hand over fist below the king of hearts And the queen of clubs. Here we glorify the dyi

sin-eater by Philliewig, literature

Literature

sin-eater

How I wish to be a sin eater, Here among silent faces Here in this place of a thousand suns Here where only the wild ones grow. Here I'd wish to be a sin eater, Where neatly hung up, rows of crosses- How I'd wish to be your sin eater Where only white lilacs bloom, Where I'd come up for air -where I'd go and find them there. But here I'd like to lay a while: Neither I nor you in satin there, Confessed things, professed things- All in all to precipitate The growing silence. And here I'd like to lay a while And how I'd like to take you away, Some day before the drone hour, Out there beyond the stone flowers. And how I wish to be a sin eater,

Lacrimosa VII by Philliewig, literature

Lacrimosa VI by Philliewig, literature

Literature

Lacrimosa VI

VI: the falling We had their calling cards, and they ours now. We assumed there were words for these, When they all knew there was one. But only once before entropy Swallow us whole Would they cradle me, Amid the yellowed flowers, there Fixed there among the stone flowers. But all these things, Arranged by time, name, place, We disregard to feed the growing smoke, All in all to feed the growing smoke. So call me an optimist For all that I knew; Drawn out on canvas, Like my passe suicide- There was nothing quite like that Which we would create, Freefalling in our panoply of glass and stars. I beg you to see me, To save me. So call me an opt

Lacrimosa V by Philliewig, literature

Literature

Lacrimosa V

V: the worshipped Here, eyes grow heavy with silence But only here, they'd call you by name: SIN EATER And only here would they call you by name, Here at the end of all things. Here in this place of dreams We are wonderfully restless Swirling within this panoply of stars, Swirling- Here we sang as the sun went down, When for a long while we pray to you Our heroin goddess: All these and more in the drone hour.

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troy ounces by Philliewig, literature

Literature

troy ounces

Seattle syndrome by Philliewig, literature

Literature

Seattle syndrome

sin-eater by Philliewig, literature

Literature

sin-eater

Lacrimosa VII by Philliewig, literature

Lacrimosa VI by Philliewig, literature

Literature

Lacrimosa VI

Lacrimosa V by Philliewig, literature

Literature

Lacrimosa V

Lacrimosa IV by Philliewig, literature

Literature

Lacrimosa IV

IV: storms Thrown up on the rocks, The mad summer tides Smashed there upon those rocks- These are the nights that may never end, All things live from the panopticon; Those were the nights that would never end. They tell us to be still like a mist, But I came in as a light rain. But they saw me as I came into the light, And once upon a time, they'd thought He'd simply rolled in, that oncoming storm; And once in a while This life came down as Tuesday's light rain In these places where it's all the same These few places where dahlias dare to grow- All for favor of the drowned.

Lacrimosa III by Philliewig, literature

Lacrimosa II by Philliewig, literature

Literature

Lacrimosa II

II: denials Paralyzed in a moment I throw your name into the wind, Writing it there in indelible black ink. I think of you as I start the car, I think of you before I go. Yet behind these smudged glass frames, I conduct illusions Of sin and pride, Speeding off into the distance. I polish my secrets like the fine silver, As something thrown out like a car bomb On a Friday afternoon. What am I but divvied out With shallow, rusted tablespoons Here or there in the drone hour- They will never catch me now.

Lacrimosa I by Philliewig, literature

Literature

Lacrimosa I

I: a suicide I throw myself into freefall. Pressed against those smudged glass frames, Further, further; The shattering of thin ice, Only now when February snow falls as ashes. I threw myself into freefall, And here beyond all things, We are unstoppable. Our bodies falling as morning dew Mine as dry riverstone I pray that you catch on the wind I pray that you catch on the winds. And I'd throw myself there into freefall, Swirling within my panoply of broken glass, Swirling- Coming back to earth as a light rain.

Special Art. Really Special stuff.

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Deviation Spotlight

untitled by Philliewig, visual art

untitled

Philliewig

Deviation Spotlight

Portrait, Musician by Philliewig, visual art

Portrait, Musician

Philliewig

Deviation Spotlight

Divided, Decomposed by Philliewig, visual art

Divided, Decomposed

Philliewig

About Philliewig

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Artist // Student // Traditional Art

Oct 27
United States
Deviant for 13 years
www.facebook.com/louiedarangart
He / Him

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My Bio

I'm a multimedia artist, musician and writer from Minnesota.

"-'What is art to you?'
Something that elicits a response from the viewer AND the artist, be it emotional, psychological, intellectual, physical, etc. The key thing is that there must be a connection between the piece and BOTH the artist and the viewer. I feel that an 'artist' is someone who can make that emotional investment into a piece and share that attachment with the public. I personally respect the more avant-garde art styles more than traditional representational styles, simply because it is harder to elicit that crucial response from the viewer, and much, much harder to form that bond with the piece as an artist."

Ever since I've started painting and creating what I consider to be 'art', a lot of people have asked me "why?" and "how?". When I paint, I try to capture the essence of the moment I'm in. I try to create something that will elicit an emotional reaction from the viewer. The deconstruction of figures, scenes and objects are intentional to leave everything to the interpretation of the viewer. The less I show and the more I suggest and imply, the more I put into the hands of the individual viewer. The more ambigious the piece is (in my opinion), the more the viewer can put of themselves into the interpretation. Often, this interpretation dramatically differs from my personal feelings to any given piece. Where I see pain, others might see happiness. Where I express anger, others interpret peace.
During the creation process, I emotionally compromise myself to open that door that so many insist on keeping sealed shut. I let out all the pent up rage, depression, anxiety and insecurity and pour it onto the palette and onto the canvas. I generally don't plan works out (in fact, I try to avoid preplanning), as I feel that act of planning kills the spontanious energy that I seek in my pieces. I let the piece work itself out, making on-the-spot decisions on what I'll do next, what steps to take and what ideas I want to get across.
I don't create because I want to get famous, get rich or anything like that. I create because I have to. The catharsis I experience while creating is unlike anything I've ever felt, and I need that catharsis to survive. In viewing my work, you are taking a revealing look into how I view this world of ours.
Welcome to my perception of our reality.

Favourite Visual Artist

Andy Warhol, Jean Michel Basquiat, George Seurat, MC Esher, Alex Grey, HR Giger, Rauschenberg, Hans Hofmann, Jackson Pollack, Franz Kline, Paul Klee, Wassily Kandinsky

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Tool, A Perfect Circle, Puscifer, Ludovico Einaudi, Nine Inch Nails, The Decemberists, Death Cab For Cutie, Bob Dylan, Chevelle, Muse, Our Lady Peace, Radiohead, Mumford & Sons, Bon Iver, Nirvana, David Bowie, Aeroplane 1929

Favourite Writers

T.S. Eliot, e e cummings, H.P. Lovecraft, Hemingway, James Joyce, Ezra Pound, F Scott Fitzgerald

Favourite Gaming Platform

Tools of the Trade

Various paints, canvas, cotton paper, books, stencils, etc.

Other Interests

Piano, guitar, violin, & singing. I also like long walks on the beach and cuddling :P

Posts

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Philliewig

Dec 29, 2014

Howdy. Got a quick announcement to the few stragglers that still check this page. I've basically abandoned this account to the wild wolves of the internet wastes, and am now only regularly uploading visual work to my facebook page at https://www.face...

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Philliewig

Jan 9, 2014

Good news, everyone!

0 min read

~goodnewsplz (https://www.deviantart.com/goodnewsplz) I'm all sorts of ecstatic right now.. so a couple of weeks ago, I'd gotten a personal message through my Facebook art page from someone at Art Crasher, an online gallery and art blog; and they were interested in including my work in a live show in San Francisco this coming February! After doing some checking to make sure I wasn't walking into some sort of scam, I promptly replied, and lo and behold, my work is going to be in the show :D I feel like I'm getting back on the horse again, artistically. After a bunch of disappointments with state and national art competitions, and not being able to go to the art school of my dr

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Philliewig

Jun 5, 2013

Words, words, words.

0 min read

Well I guess I should start this long-overdue update on my interesting life with the most important things: I'm graduating from high school in 2 days, I'm rounding off my third year as an artist, I have a fantastic group of friends, and my girlfriend is seriously the best person ever. So here I am, 4 years later and so much more sorted out and optimistic than I was going into this whole school thing. I may not be walking with honors, and I may not have grades that I can be totally proud of, but I've made it nonetheless, and I know that as I stand with the class of 2013 in front of all of my friends and family, I'll be able to look back on th