#Epicurus Digital Art

[hhyartist]

Looking for a unique piece of intellectual decor that will inspire your mind and add a touch of vintage philosophy to your home or office? Look no further than this stunning digital portrait of Epicurus, the ancient Greek philosopher and founder of Epicureanism. With its intricate details and timeless style, this Epic

Print

This vintage philosophy print is not only a great conversation starter, but also a perfect gift for students, teachers, or anyone interested in the history of philosophy. It's easy to download and print, making it a convenient and affordable way to add a touch of intellectual elegance to your space. Combine it with other philosophy wall art or use it as a standalone piece, this Epicurus decor will elevate any room.

Order now and receive this beautiful Epicurus digital art print in a matter of minutes. Add it to your cart and enjoy the beauty and wisdom of this Greek philosopher every day.

Etsy Purchase

[deoffal-mp-adm7000-n-s1-2022]

First Proposal and Beginning Statement (25th February 2022)

Discuss your current arts-based practice and/ or professional experience.

 I am currently influenced by the quasi-philosophical weird fiction works of such authors as Edgar Allan Poe, H.P. Lovecraft, Arthur Machen, Algernon Blackwood, Comte De Lautreamont and Robert Chambers. This then being fused together with such academic influences as George Orwell, Jean Jacques Rousseau, Georges Bataille, Jean Paul Sartre, Epicurus, Friedrich Nietzsche, Emil Cioran, Eugene Thacker and Immanuel Kant. My current research focus is mainly on the progression of Nihilism and the futurist understandings of accelerationism through post-humanist portraiture and horror media. Primarily, I am inspired by the works of Eugene Thacker to read Horror fiction as contemporary philosophy and cultural criticism through allegory as the means. My Identity and practice is the natural result of post-modern society. My art is all about using horror visuals as a timeless allegory for mankind's blights in the face of the unknown and noumena, and how we deal with fear and states beyond our comprehension through portraiture. In particular, when attempting to the represent the troubled social evolution of a world that is always in conflict, and can't face the future and it's awaiting horrors of the post-human.

 My style as a post-humanist conceptually, is all about subverting the expected and allowing for question to be more important than objective answers and interpretations. As someone who is clearly about philosophy as a priority in the work, I believe that art like philosophy works best when it looks to the future to prophesise greater questions about us and the other, rather than cancelling the challenging nature of the past, and the existential conflicts of today, with contrived, objective and dismissive answers. This sense of bringing out the significance of literary/ philosophical influences into my contemporary portraitist style, originates from my own personal lifelong journey affirming myself as a LaVeyanist. I have written about the aforementioned subjects within each of my MA submissions and will continue to do so with this module too.

 I do have some professional experience working with Eastside projects and have put on one small group show a year before Covid hit the scene, until now I have found it challenging to take my work to a professional level due to all the restrictions and the lack of experience I have showing my work professionally in publications and installations, though I am now applying for shows and and prizes to push myself out before maybe later attempted a Phd after this course is through.

Method of Log (Blog/Vlog/Digital Platform/ Physical/Journal/Sketchbook):

A blog on Tumblr (Currently not started on but the page is set up) :

 https://www.tumblr.com/blog/deoffal-mp-adm7000-n-s1-2022

 You are also required to submit and develop a reflective log of your research processes. Please outline how employability/professional context will inform your future plans and how this is going to be embedded into your Major Project submission.

 Due to my previously discussed plans and opportunities outside of my studies involving certain prizes and exhibitions that I am currently and have already applied for, my only The role of my religion is crucial when attempting to understand my approaches, I was once someone who was disassociated with analogue/ printed media and the importance of conserving and teaching the values of historical and contemporary philosophical exploration in my earlier education. Over a decade later, and I am wanting to champion the importance of proper literary education within my work, as an artist who is fuelled and endlessly fascinated by the continued need for printed academic resources, to hopefully too fuel the greater generation after me, in spite of internet obsession and generally homogenised cultural stagnancy.

[cyberianpunks]

Death does not concern us, because as long as we exist, death is not here. And when it does come, we no longer exist

[art-of-manliness]

Podcast #565: Stillness Is the Key

According to my guest today, many of the world’s most eminent leaders, thinkers, athletes, and artists have one thing in common: they cultivate stillness in their lives.  His name is Ryan Holiday and in his latest book, Stillness Is the Key, he highlights how great individuals have used stillness to do great things. We begin our discussion with how Ryan describes stillness, what it means to find stillness in mind, body, and soul, and how an individual can have stillness in one of these areas, but chaos in another.  Ryan shares what we can learn about stillness of mind from JFK’s handling of the Cuban Missile Crisis and how journaling and limiting media inputs can help us foster our own mental stillness. We then discuss the myth that relationships hold you back in life, and how they can in fact help you find both greater achievement, and stillness of soul. We also discuss what we can learn from Winston Churchill on how to find physical stillness, and why having hobbies is so important to finding balance in life.  Show Highlights * How Stillness the capstone of Ryan’s thinking on Stoicism * Why Ryan missed some of Stoicism’s message on stillness earlier in his life  * How priorities shift as you age  * What does stillness really mean? Is it just meditation? * The benefits that come from fostering stillness in your life * What does it look like when your stillness is out of balance?  * JFK’s leadership during the Cuban Missile Crisis  * Limiting your inputs and avoiding “breaking” news * The power of reading and journaling  * Using silence to find stillness * The biggest obstacles to finding stillness in the soul  * What people get wrong about Epicurus * How do relationships help still the soul?  * What role does the body play in a still life? * The power of walking (and some famous walkers)  Resources/People/Articles Mentioned in Podcast * My first podcast with Ryan: The Obstacle Is the Way * My second podcast with Ryan: The Ego Is the Enemy * Books So Good I’ve Read Them Twice (or More) * Meditations on a First Reading of Aurelius’s Meditations * Ben Sasse: By the Book * Does Meditation Deserve the Hype? * Tiger Woods * Decluttering Your Digital Life * What It Really Means to Be Self-Reliant * Is There Any Reason to Keep Up With the News? * The Eisenhower Decision Matrix * The History of the Peloponnesian War * Jumpstart Your Journaling: A 31-Day Challenge * 31 Journaling Prompts for Greater Self-Reliance * The Daily Stoic Journal * Bill Gates’ “Think Week” * The Spiritual Disciplines: Solitude and Silence * The Churchill School of Adulthood (including his take on hobbies) * Clementine by Sonia Purnell * Painting as a Pastime by Winston Churchill * The Magic of Walking * Solvitur Ambulando: It Is Solved by Walking * Bhagavad Gita Connect With Ryan Ryan’s website  Ryan on Twitter Ryan on Instagram DailyDad.com  Listen to the Podcast! (And don’t forget to leave us a review!)   Listen to the episode on a separate page. Download this episode. Subscribe to the podcast in the media player of your choice. Recorded on ClearCast.io Listen ad-free on Stitcher Premium; get a free month when you use code “manliness” at checkout. Podcast Sponsors Zoro.com. Whether you need stuff for industries like electrical, plumbing, contracting, manufacturing or more —Zoro’s got it, from brands you know and trust! Go to zoro.com/manliness to sign up for Z-mail and get 15% off your first order.  Harry’s. We’ve partnered with Harry’s to give you $5 off ANY shave set – including their limited-edition holiday sets – when you go to Harrys.com/manliness. Policygenius. Compare life insurance quotes in minutes, and let us handle the red tape. If insurance has frustrated you in the past, visit policygenius.com. Click here to see a full list of our podcast sponsors. Read the Transcript Coming soon! The post Podcast #565: Stillness Is the Key appeared first on The Art of Manliness. http://dlvr.it/RKXzyT

[lelcj115]

Digital Detox Experiment & BOOK REVIEW: How to Do Nothing by Jenny Odell

In Jenny Odell’s book, How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy, she encapsulates the idea of stopping and smelling the roses. We, as a society, are so caught up with work, school, etc. that we tend to put ourselves on autopilot and, in Odell’s experience, we don’t stop to smell the roses. In her example, Odell delves into bird watching as a hobby. Bird watching takes patience and observance as you let the bird find you, Odell explains. As a matter of fact, it should be renamed bird observing or noticing. When watching birds, Odell describes that she is no longer on autopilot, but is placed in an environment that is thought-provoking, although she is, by our societal definition, doing nothing but sitting and listening. Throughout her book, she highlights these different aspects of the art of doing nothing, and its beneficial impact on taking oneself out of autopilot. 

Odell references many strong philosophers and authors throughout her book yet one that has stuck with me is: 

“Stupid fools are those who are never satisfied with what they possess, but only lament what they cannot have” (35).

This quote is displayed by Epicurus and spotlights the meaning of the book. He believed that people ran in circles in modern society, unaware of what made them happy, which is why he condemned cities. They prove to create corruption of one’s mind as people aim for as many opportunities as they can handle, limiting themselves to finding true happiness with what is around them.

After being released by an indie publishing house, Melville Press, this book has become an unexpected bestseller in Corona Times because of the awakening by others. During Covid, we have had relentless time to loathe and ponder our existence, especially during a worldwide pandemic and quarantine. This book is a tool in awakening oneself to understand the faults of our overconsumption. Without the busy distractions of work and school, many came to wake up out of autopilot leaving them to question their origin of happiness. Doing nothing provokes thoughts, which is why everyone began to think, rejecting the attention economy.

Jumping off of this ideology, the attention economy benefits from our social media activity and media streaming consumption because it is how our society runs. Mindless scrolling and advertising through social media promotes our consumer culture. Without thinking more, we buy things we don't need. Because our society is founded upon these beliefs, in order to resist, we have to do it intentionally due to the routine of scrolling. Consumptionism and consumerism are beneficially impacted when we benefit the attention economy. Social media consumption also affects our mental health and self esteem, leaving us to try and emulate this idea of being perfect, which is. constantly advertised by celebrities and moguls. 

Celebrity culture is about the masking of all things imperfect. Celebrities are held on pedestals, almost as icons, and Odell highlights how draining and non-productive this is considered to be. Celebrity culture goes in-hand with consumer culture. Put in simpler terms, perfect sells. People are strung about looking and acting like other celebrities, to the point they revoke into this autopilot theme of purchasing what the celebrities promote. Furthermore, celebrity culture is completely toxic. By using the method of doing nothing, we eliminate ourselves from being a ‘cog in society’s machine’. We awaken from this thought that nothing truly is as perfect as it may seem.  

PERSONAL REFLECTION:

I find myself taking detox breaks from social media due to my own self-confidence deteriorating. I mindlessly scroll for hours through apps like TikTok and Instagram until the day is over, and I begin my self-loathing process. During quarantine, the only way to stay connected to the world was through the internet so it was quite hard to take a digital detox. To be frank, I don’t think I have taken one during that era just because of the longing and attachment to keep up with my family and friends. 

Furthermore, I sleep with my phone within close proximity. I need to be able to be easily accessible due to my own anxieties of someone needing me late at night or early in the morning. My phone has become my main alarm clock so having it close allows me to turn it off multiple times as I struggle to wake up each morning. I’ve heard that having your phone next to you does affect your overall sleep quality as well as being on the phone before bed. To counteract this, I’ve tried countless times to start a habit of reading for at least ten minutes before bed, which has failed a few times thus far.

The role of nature in Odell’s book is a beautiful ode to the present. She returns to the main theme that nature is true and beautiful. Our heads are hovering over a screen for almost all of our lives that we forget to look up. Some examples of nature she refers to is a rose garden and the distraction architecture, transforming a garden in the middle of a city to an oasis, away from the toxicity of the digital world. In her main theme of birdwatching, though, Odell refers to the way birds find you. And instead of watching, it should be considered listening or noticing. Birds are always around, it isn’t until we look up that we see them. We notice them!

While walking throughout my neighborhood, I began to see how peaceful it actually is. Walking through Queens, NY, I have never noticed how loud the birds actually were. It was inspiring to hear the beauty of nature awakening and blooming after the dark cold winter. As a kid, I would always sit on this one rock by the corner and play with the bugs. I haven’t done that since I was twelve. I was relieved and amazed to see my inner child has not completely dissipated and it reminded me of all my ambitious goals as a child. When we are younger, our pureness and naiveness is a beautiful perspective that we lose when we begin autopilot mode. It was as though, by intentionally rejecting the attention economy, I was able to get back in touch. It was a beautiful thing. 

By ‘doing nothing’ Odell does not physically mean doing nothing. She refers to this idea of doing nothing as a way to catch up with ourselves. In big cities, for example, no one has time to breathe. It’s a hustle and bustle lifestyle that many get distracted by. City Goers get stuck with the same routine of going to work and going home. Yet, can we really constitute that as living, as doing something? Doing nothing refers to noticing, enjoying, and appreciating life for what it has to offer as opposed to just living in society, constantly yearning for betterment. It’s mentally healthy to understand the beauty of simpler things and not take it for granted. Personally, I believe humans are capable of ‘doing nothing’ by Odell’s terms. We just need to open our eyes and see life for what it is, not what we continually try to make it to be, perfect. 

[harmanghuman-art]

‘Epicurus’ Sketch for a new painting. Epicurus was an ancient greek philospher and sage who founded Epicureanism, a highly influential school of philosphy. He was born on the Greek island of Samos to Athenian parents. 341 BC to 270 BC Digital @ibispaint_official . . . . . . . . . . #harmanghumanart #art #arte #artwork #artist #artistsoninstagram #oilpainting #digitalsketch #digitalart #digitalpainting #digitalillustration #illustration #impressionism #expression #figurativeart #realism #sculpture #epicurus #greekmythology #mythology #brampton #bramptonart #bramptonartist #bramptonartists #torontoartist #torontoart #canadianartist #artoftheday #makeart2022 #makearteveryday (at Toronto, Ontario) https://www.instagram.com/p/CZ2yvfEKY-q/?utm_medium=tumblr

[jshoulson]

Today’s Poem

Letters to America (An Abecedary) --Fred D'Aguiar

For Yogita and Anish�

“Ah neva seen this before in all ma years.” Testify, Sis. How we grew accustomed, Spoiled almost, by decorum, now try Mosquito larvae cultivating at speed In standing bodies of water. Pigeons Flock rooftops, twist, launch, shout As one, spin sky, turn skulls porous.

Car repair shop drills sing industry. Tires feel out parking, meters freed. First horn blare triggers this chorus. Step up pistons, fire motor mouths, Say our only worry is our worst fears Come true. Mosquito straw proboscis Drinks from my arm, bam! Adios asterisk.

•

But, really, am I eyeballing an armored truck? Says one dung beetle to half earthworm, Who replies, as Gloucester, I see it feelingly.

Who gave those uniforms permission to storm School car parks, automatics drawn? Finches ask Robins, who, channeling Auden, whistle —

Bang! WTF!

Bang, bang, Lulu, Lulu gone ...

The calypso worked its juju On my digital radio.

Flags at half-mast for this Union. Taps on trumpets dawn till dusk. Guides, Scouts, look out for rainbows

Projected on a disused warehouse in LA County. Clocks throughout the land tell one contiguous time. Rain and shine stop dead in tracks on borderlines.

•

Cat asks me if dogs can ever be cool. After two of my kind pin down one of his On a front porch until chased off by our rulers.

I open my mouth to spit some piety about Lions lying down with lambs but only bark What my genes say I should, ears pulled back.

Do you remember Judas Iscariot? Thirty silver Pieces and a certain last supper just for this. A taser for every problem warns the bee

With an empty bonnet, sting for emphasis, About why one plus one never makes two, After voting from sea to oil-slicked sea.

Look at her, look at him, hold, kiss babies In photo ops, all gaga, minus bathtub Never mind water, in this national soap,

This wait for the next sentence whose weight “Illegals” carry on shoulders they look over Nonstop, even in sleep, one eye open,

Breath held when police cruise by, Car backfire skin jump heartbeat skip, Day in, day out, glory hallelujah, do I have

A witness as empire zips into bonfire. For what? To dip wrists in fresh water From an inverted fountain in a square.

•

Black lives matter but blue lives matter more. Duh. Veins, blue, blood, plus or minus, B this or A that. Epicurus, I find your coin staring up at me From the bottom of my beer mug, too late For Troy, for Trayvon. I need a flotation device, A buoy, Woolf’s lighthouse and single room Garvey’s Star Line to beam me up Scotty.

Where is yesteryear’s full moon that silvered Towers and made a midnight lake of the city Where lovers strolled, hand in hand, one black, One white, with no mind for anyone and no two Minds in their business? Gone the way of drones Whose shadows crossed the moon without trace On GPS to sow grief in the name of cod, liver, oil.

Spell it out or risk talk stuck in ecofriendly caves. Black and blue, both, why can’t we, intoned, Rodney (not Walter), get along? Because, Because, because (fill in the dots) with your Trotsky (or Brodsky) and your Marx (Groucho). Laugh therapy narrows eyes, blocks ears, Hurts jaws, ribs, merrily, merrily, cha-cha. Cha.

•

Eek-A-Mouse blasts my buds, as I read The instruction manual, which says One thing but leads to another When I piece it together, finally. It being the thing I refuse to name.

My nerves, porous as that strainer I hold over a tilted pot full of spaghetti In hot water. Pavarotti in the shower, Malcolm before a cracked mirror, Gaga at each news item competing

For part Fool. Ornate, abandoned nest Left in place, in my suburban rafter, Squirreled from without a note, Unless feathers could ever be a sign Of things to come, of what once was.

•

Face Beckett’s door, imperceptibly ajar.

His stage direction, for how things Turn out here if this show goes on.

Sir Ian, why reserve your last check For your flies, before you take the stage?

Because all eyes alight there first.

Mr. Spock, where is the logic in this?

I marvel at comics from my youth In 4K, LED. Captain, put me ashore.

By which I mean at sea with sirens, Ears unwaxed, sternum lashed to bow.

What is your name? Kunta. Whip.

Am I not a ... asked Sizwe in Fugard.

You are trans, on loan from genes, Dust, waves, particles, here, today.

•

Go-go in la-la land whines craft for art’s saké. See that chrysalis hanging like a mural. Should it stop unfolding, hold back Dues, suspend when wings peel gloves, Snake free, take flight, remind the greed In our chi, Che, cha, what turns without Turning? If you must know, but first,

Shush, write milk in lemon juice on foolscap, Read by passing over Bunsen. Mercurial Chemists, we were all Curie. Cooked crack Ready to pay any price, to find out if love Could ever be a portion, all you would need, To spin Mercator a tad faster on whiteout Poles, match our heart, tap, rat-a-tat burst.

•

1. Hummingbird feeder needs refill 2. Peel sticker, off window, that says glass 3. Buy T-shirt with directive, mind the gap 4. Sip tea from mug, of civil rights dead 5. Breathe in, sure, but really exhale 6. Note how breeze lifts a whole branch 7. Whose green skirt shows white undies

•

I mean certain legends about flight that grow up with right minds to help them come to terms with change that may be out of their control.

Lone branch ranges from a curved palm 90 feet over LA’s 1914 craftsman in historic Adams. How flayed branch cruises broadcasts a specific gravity geared to flight of the right kind, slow, bracing, reluctant, noncommittal, inevitable, and resigned to its fate.

Through double-glazing I hear, so I believe, that swoosh of storied capital decline, swish perhaps, almost a whistle, as you wish, much like us as kids with a clasped blade of grass held to our pursed lips for that didgeridoo that was elevator music to us atonal types.

But how can a branch sing if made to move on by wind and rain from where it began, and thought it would end, even if a philosophy spread among shoots of a final sail set for another dimension?

As word of government raids spread through town and university we forwarded emails, Instagrams, and stopped with neighbors in streets to exchange the latest.

Is this time for emergency measures or are we too blind to know what we can feel coming a mile away, where someone who knows someone we know stops for bread, milk, eggs and is grabbed, handcuffed, and carted off to detention? Imagine us as branches dislodged in a sea change helped by soft water. We cling, not to give up on all we know. What for? That fall, we must accept as fate.

•

Juggernaut ancestors shape-shift cumulus, March across dull blue grass to bagpipes.

Change bandages on Grandmother. Amputated right hand she says she feels

Rainy days in Georgetown as a firm handshake That rattles all 27 phantom bones, makes her shiver.

Grandfather never averts his bifurcated lens From his Golden Treasury, unless his hanky readies

To catch eyewater at the blurred sight of her. In a time of airships, of toothpicks operated

Behind hand cover. Whoever you vote for, (Runs the calypso) the government gets in,

Ting-a-ling-a-ling. Doan tek serious thing Mek joke, bannoh. WTF. Twin towers got us

Here. Nah, Reagan. Nope, slavery. Try again. Irony, that republic of deferred action.

Hummingbird smashes into that glass door, My mother walks absently into it too.

I glance just in time, brake and catch a face That I look through to my final destination.

•

K Street in South London? Now? How? One morning at 6:30 I crossed Blackheath Hill.

On my paper round Met a scrawny fox halfway Uphill, down, not sure.

We paused, inhaled each Other, fox-trotted away, In a slight panic,

Me thinking tabloid Headlines, rabid animal Chases paper kid

On delivery route. Follow as I buzz myself Into a tower,

Board elevator, a man In a suit exits, With the merest nod.

Climb 8 floors, carry That fox, and just as I plunge The folded Mirror

Into letter box, Door, ajar, flies open, wham!

A very pregnant Woman, naked, swollen breasts Blazing redhead, small

Burning bush at crotch, Fills doorframe, scrambles my head. She takes one moment

To compute I am Not her partner, slams door, smack, In my wide-eyed face.

That moment, as she Processes me and I her, Stretches out enough

For me to see her Shoulder-length, red, flaming curls And inverted red

Triangle tuft at her crotch, Bright stretched skin at her Distended navel,

An outie, as though I crashed at high speed and could Recall the lead up

Frame by stark frame for Posterity, mine and hers, Her child near its term.

The rest of my round I peer left, right, near distance, Round bends, for said fox.

I conjure woman, Pregnant, framed by her threshold, Here, now, with only

Me, you, these measures, This emergency, all three, To foster, connect all.

•

Lap up 70s Airy Hall, Guyana. One road in and one road out, One of everything village, Caiman, donkey, peacock, And mad expat Englishman Footloose and fancy-free Who we stone with red sand That crumbles on contact Grabbed from the roadside That acts as giant bow, Strung with two-story house, Whose Greenheart frame, Tensed, held all this time. English pelted for saying, Down his big burnt nose, That he was sent here To rule us half-clad children That he in his better days Seeing better times before Guyana’s famous red rum Got the better of him, Helped sow high and low, And everything between Our town and country.

•

Maestro, we played shoots Planted in one place Sprouts in disorderly rows, Up whole feet if you look away For a spell, all loaded In one hammock strung Between rafters in a back room Empty until harvest Stuffed paddy from roof To pillar to post. Rice husk smell for days. Rocking chair song and dance On full moons, donkey-bray At midday, peacock-scream Various most afternoons.

•

Now help bring barefoot Pale instep, cracked heel, stamping Englishman back, not to curse, Stone or ridicule, but to hear How he would remedy this now So out of sync with then.

•

Once more help us

•

Parse wheat from chaff,

•

Quantify this voting

•

Result that tests our gall.

•

Stepped-on alligator, Uncle

•

Takes for a log bridge

•

Until it lifts, shakes, yawns.

•

Velocity of legs cycling air, Caiman, not alligator, Lassoed between two poles, Fetched back to the house, Cut loose in a fenced field For sport for that day, Lost to me every day since. I bring it back, steady Its shine, against this time,

•

Where I am told one past Counts most, all others Must be put down to what That alligator, jaws open, Head reared, presents, Ready to lash with tail, Charge at anyone Who takes it for a log.

•

X marks the spot where Englishman walks in half Circles, pumps his bent Arms as if to fly, cackles Like a peacock, only to get The real thing started, The two in a quarrel thrice Removed from that magic Flower duet from Lakmé By Léo Delibes. Peacock, Donkey, caiman, village fool, Be my ally, bring it all, Cow, moon, dish, spoon.

•

Yo-Yo Ma follows Eek On democracy’s Shuffle Play.

•

Zebra asks me in Queen’s English peppered with Esperanto If he be black whiff white stripes Or white wid black stripes. I wake with this atonal pair On the edge of my edginess:

“I do not care, I do not care, If the Don has on underwear.”

“But don’t you think or worry some, That his nudity is zero sum?”

“I cannot see for the life of me, Why that should concern anybody.”

“I fret when all’s said and done, We leave him be, he has his fun.”