Friday, March 11, 2011

Scott Clark Vision: Lost Love

All Copyrights Reserved: Scott Clark Vision

This image took approximately 160 hours to airbrush. This is one of my best selling and most recognizable images. I was inspired to paint this epic beauty because of I'd finally bean endowed with deep knowledge regarding the future of Parallel Earth, and I wanted to capture the essence of the moment in a painting. As with most of my paintings, I laid out a basic structure and let my imagination run wild.

Visit my web-sight at: Scott Clark Vision

Included below is a ruff written concept of the future of the world in which this image takes place:

Awakened as if from a horrid dream, he cast his eyes downward and gazed upon his transformed body.

“What is this from that enslaves me? What has my skin been sacrificed for? What is this demon I have become? My soul... it’s all I have that even feels true. These pipes and tubes entangle me in a labyrinth of pain. A mystery to me, this twisted engineering has become my physical reality.”

Something wriggled down by his feet. He couldn't make it out. Snakes? He leaned down. The connector tubes along his back, stretching and straining, reminded him that he was connected to the fleshy walls surrounding him. He reached down his hands, now more like tentacles, to grasp the object hidden in the shadows. Clutching it tight, wiping worms away, he viewed the morbid treasure. A cracked, blood stained skull, the spine attached, lay in his grasp.

A spark of light emerged from the black recessed of the eye-sockets of the skull. The light, as if some flower growing from the darkest of soil, blossomed into angelic blue eyes.

Transfixed by this solitary vision, a luminous spirit in the depths of hell, he felt something near and dear. His heart was warmed if only for a single beat. He knew her. Two faint memories, as if from the depths of some former life, emerged.

“You were my wife. My love.”

“Your memory fails you not my lost one,” said the spirit. “They killed us. They ripped me apart. Stripped me. Raped me. Left me for dead, but they did not kill me. For I am endless as are you. They stripped me from my vestiges of flesh, but this matters not. For all of their cleansing torture and pain became my enlightenment, my freedom from flesh. Remember, your physical state is merely a reflection of your earthly existence. Fear not that I am no longer of this Earth. For I have transcended. And, above all, fear not that you have lost my love. It is to remain intact in this realm and the next. Farewell.”

“Will we speak again?”

“When you listen to your heart, when you follow your dreams, you shall always hear me.”

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Parallel Earth: The Fantastic Art of Scott Clark

Friends, Romans and Countrymen lend me your ears. Ok, now that I have your attention, I can continue.
U . N . I . O . N
Art...what is it? Well, it is many things to many people. Sometimes it's a pretty picture on the wall that makes you feel all gooey inside. Other times it is a wrecked piece of canvas which coveys little meaning what so ever. And on those rare occasions, it becomes a spiritually transcendent moment, that great occasion when the artist gets out of their way and allows the work to become what it was intended to be, and thus conveys the revelation to the viewer.

Ok, so what does this have to do with me? Just in case you didn't know, I'm an artist too. What I paint, draw, or render in some medium are energies that emerge through my perception. I have experimented with many forms of application, oils, acrylics, airbrush, digital, photography. You get the picture. I've discovered that each medium offers its own unique way of effecting the outcome of any particular piece, as well as what can be visually  achieved.

Fortunate and unfortunate, my concentrations have centered on the creation of the epic world that unfolds within the realm of Parallel Earth. Actually, I owe a great debt to my art and how it transformed the story I was writing. As I often sketched bizarre creatures for my Earth, I had to understand how they came into being. The same thing happened with the characters.

I drew this one guy and I thought he looked super bad-ass; he looked so bad-ass, I didn't want him to be a villain (if I dare call any of my characters villains), I wanted him to be a good guy. But he looked so strange. How had he become what he was?

This led me to uncover his back-story, which sent me further down the path to understand how such conditions were created, which then led me further back into the history of my writings to comprehend how he could have even come into being, thus his story rooted back more years than I dare say... a very long time.

Lost Love
As for my creative process of art, it is very spontaneous. I try to lay out basic compositional elements. Once this is done, I think of a color scheme and go with it. I'm never really sure what I'm going to end up with. I just let the image present itself. I am a horrible Illustrator. I have very difficult time trying to set, formulate, and execute a image as a commercial artist. This is not my strong-point.

What is my strength? Letting go and letting it be. I do not paint images as much as I allow them to be seen, and I am the eyes and force through which they come into manifestation. My mother hates my art. She always asked me, "Scott, why can't you paint something pretty?" I responded, "For every one of me, there are a thousand people painting pretty things that make other's feel good."

 I have since learned I can paint pretty things, and it takes about the same amount of effort. But I sing in the shadows. I love to exercise the deeper energies of my perception through creating things I, nor anyone, has never seen. I follow no format. I rarely even have a plan aside from a few key notes. And typically, I just let it flow. This, to me, is the only honest way I can both express and experience the deep feelings that lie deep within me in hopes of being exhumed from the depths of my soul to be awakened into this age.

One last thing, you can catch me facebook and on twitter.

See, I can paint pretty.