truth

"Parts Unknown," Acrylic on Canvas, 18x24 Some actions we will never know the reason behind, and, quite honestly, we don't always need to know the answer. Anthony Bourdain committed suicide on June 8th, 2018, news that was shocking for most to hear. People continue to speculate what could have caused him to commit suicide, some feel he had more to do, to say before he died. Personally, I find there's some feeling of closure or completeness to his death. I don't know what the feeling is exactly, but it's there. It feels like he left on his own terms, decided it was time. I wouldn't consider his death as him waving a white flag to addiction and depression. He said his shows were intended to tell other's stories, tell them frankly and truthfully. It's interesting how blunt and honest he could seem to be about himself, though he kept so many layers held within. Although we'd love to have a clear cut answer, explanation, reason, what would knowing that information change?

"Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, love is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” 1 Corinthians 13:4-7 (NABRE)

“Most things benefit from contrast. The exception is the truth.” ~Golgaaryol, 2025. (Koh-I-Noor and Bambino crayons)

I don’t know, I doodled on my hand and took a photo of it and edited it. I personally think it looks cool but that’s just my opinion. -I have depression, and have been/am a cutter so that explains the words written.

Imperfect Lines, Honest Presence This sketch is not perfect—and that’s exactly why it’s alive. The bold figure, the dissolving hat, the tilted chair: all of it feels unfinished, fleeting, caught in motion. It’s what the Japanese call wabi-sabi—finding beauty in the imperfect, the impermanent, the incomplete. But there’s something deeper here too. A quick sketch is not just what the eye records. It’s what the soul permits. To draw without fixing, without polishing, is to admit the world will not hold still for us. Life slips past. The lines break off. And yet, somehow, the essence remains. When you sketch this way, you are not the master of the moment—you are its guest. The pencil does not carve permanence; it pays attention. The act of drawing becomes an act of being present, of honoring what is already vanishing. So here’s a challenge: grab a pencil and sketch someone near you in sixty seconds. Do not erase. Do not perfect. Let the lines falter. When you finish, ask yourself: What truth did the imperfection reveal? Perhaps presence itself is the real art.

55 mins “I Never Noticed The House Was On Fire” This is a painting for an upcoming group exhibition about memories. When I was a kid I grew up in a household where my parents were functioning alcoholics. They gave me toys, put me in front of the tv, and sent me outside to play to keep me distracted from what was going on. When I look back almost all of my childhood memories revolve around these things. I became obsessed with these imaginary worlds and I learned to draw by copying my favorite cartoons and characters from children’s books. It was not until I was much older, that the truth could no longer be hidden from me. The imaginary world of cartoons and books kept me shielded from the harsh realities of home. As I grew into an adult that form of coping grew with me as I created my own imaginary places inspired by the ones I loved as a child. A healthy place to escape.

This portrait is the darkest in the series, examining the internal malice that persists even when communication is restricted, illustrating that evil doesn't require a loud voice. * Visual Focus: The mask's mouth is horrifyingly held closed across the center by surgical thread and a needle, which only covers half of the wide, unnerving smile. The stitching reveals a set of sharp, feral teeth underneath. Disturbingly, a pair of prominent horns protrude from the top of the mask's head. * Symbolism: * The Stitched Mouth: Represents the idea of selective silence or the censorship of truth. The fact that the stitching only covers half the mouth highlights the "half-done" nature of modern morality. The revealed sharp teeth suggest that even in silence, the capacity for vicious, cutting, or "devilish" speech remains barely contained. Showed directly on the piece by the date being misleading. * The Horns: A classic, unambiguous symbol of the Devil or pure malice. This is the figure's core identity—it suggests that even while hiding behind a neutral mask and being partially silenced, the individual's "tongue like the devil" and evil intent are still very much present, emphasizing the inherent corruption and hypocrisy behind the facade.

I get these random thoughts and ideas. When they come I need to get them out like a parasite that eats you from the inside out. But yes, this one started with the expression and body pose. I scraped the rest of her body because I didn't like it. But since I like strong females that are ready to stand and fight. The more I colored and came to close the picture, I had a thought. Sometimes inside of my head I get too many voices that talk and tell me what I am. Some are truth but some are lies. Well those voices, ARE MANY!Just like Legion, they are many. So this picture describes mental health and spiritual warfare that happens on the daily.

It started with optimism. A serendipitous encounter with an old college friend in Miami’s bustling airport led to a conversation about financial growth. He spoke glowingly of Dollar fx net, a platform he insisted had doubled his investments. Trusting his enthusiasm, I deposited 10,000 USD a substantial chunk of my job savings only to face a shocking roadblock weeks later. The platform demanded an additional 5,000 “verification fee” to unlock withdrawals. My stomach dropped; this wasn’t a hiccup it was a trap. Stress pushed me into research mode. Scouring cybersecurity forums, I uncovered countless stories mirroring mine: unregulated platforms exploiting trust, draining accounts under false pretenses. Then, a lifeline a Reddit thread praising CERTIFIED RECOVERY SERVICES for their no-nonsense approach to fund retrieval. Skeptical but out of options, I submitted a case file through their portal, hoping for a miracle. The response from CERTIFIED RECOVERY SERVICES was swift and reassuring. They outlined a comprehensive strategy: trace the digital trail of my 10,000 USD, they apply pressure on the platform through legal backchannels. Their transparency struck me while they couldn’t guarantee success, their expertise was evident. Over the next week, CERTIFIED RECOVERY SERVICES became my digital sherpa, guiding me through the murky waters of online fraud recovery. Their team meticulously decoded Dollar fx net’s obfuscated transaction logs, revealing that my funds had been funneled into offshore wallets, far from any regulatory oversight. Armed with this information, their legal team issued takedown notices to payment processors linked to the platform, effectively putting them on notice. The pressure worked: on day 10, I received a cryptic email from Dollar fx net claiming my account was “under review. "By week two, the impossible happened my original 10,000 USD reappeared in my bank account, sans the fabricated fees. CERTIFIED RECOVERY SERVICES later explained how their threat of exposing the platform’s infrastructure to regulators had forced their hand. Their relentless pursuit of justice to recover my funds and also highlighted the importance of holding fraudulent platforms accountable. This ordeal taught me two harsh truths: not all opportunities are as they seem, and due diligence is non-negotiable. Yet it also revealed heroes like CERTIFIED RECOVERY SERVICES ethical hackers who use their skills to fight back against fraud. I now understand that vigilance and the right support can turn the tide against deceit. In a world where fraudsters thrive on silence, speaking out and seeking help can be the most powerful tools in reclaiming what is rightfully yours. Here's Their Info Below: WhatsApp: (+1(740)258‑1417 ) Telegram: https: //t.me/certifiedrecoveryservices mail: (certifiedrecoveryservices @zohomail .com, certified @financier .com) Website info;( https: //certifiedrecoveryservices .com)

"One may stray from the path of a man, one may stray from the path of a woman, but there is no straying from the path of a Human! All friends must scatter into the sky of truth, and blossom!, Okama Way!" - Bon Clay

Done 2022. This is my latest artwork so far as i have 2 color pencil ARTS in the making. with lead pencil on 9x12 bristol original up for sale $45+s/h . if interested leave a comment or jungmeister4@yahoo.com. ALSO THERE IS STORY TO THIS DEVIL'S TREE AND IT IS REAL STORY. DO NOT SCARED AS YOU READING YOU WILL BE OK. This is one sinister looking tree, and according to the locals, who told us of its legends, everyone in the vicinity of Bernards Township seems to have a story about it. They say that at one time a farmer killed his entire family, then went to the tree to hang himself. According to some, numerous suicides and murders occurred around the evil arbor. Supposedly anyone who tries to cut down the tree comes to an untimely end, as it is now cursed. It is said that the souls of those killed at the spot give the tree an unnatural warmth, and even in the dead of winter no snow will fall around it. When Weird NJ visited the Devil’s Tree we noticed evidence that many attempts had been made over the years to fell the unholy oak, but all have failed. The tree stands all alone in the middle of a large field off Mountain Road. Its trunk has been severely scared by axes and chain saws, some wounds appearing to be quite old. Why no one has yet been successful in toppling the timber we cannot say for sure. Nor do we know what has become of those who have tried. One Weird NJ reader described the Devil’s Tree to us this way: There’s a big field and right near the road is the tree. It’s the only thing in the field. Supposedly it’s a portal to hell and a sentinel guards it. He drives an old black Ford or pick-up truck and will chase you down the road until a certain point. You will see headlights one second, and the next nothing – the car is just gone. Another local told us that the inherent unholiness of the Devil’s Tree is the result of the evil that men do, and should not to be blamed on the Devil. Devil’s Tree is a KKK Hangout There is a very evil truth to the mythology of the Devil’s Tree. At one time, Bernards Township was one of the central headquarters of the KKK in New Jersey – they held many demonstrations in our town and held many meetings throughout the hills. As per KKK policy, often they would lynch local African-Americans to set an example, not only to other African-Americans, but also as an example of their principles and resolve. The Devil’s Tree was more secluded in those times before the developments spread across the rural countryside like a blight. It stood in a very isolated area of woods and fields, far from the prying eyes of the police. The evil energy around the tree comes from the souls of dead men and women who were killed by this vile organization. If you look at the tree you can see the left most branch extends almost parallel to the ground. This was the hanging branch. Pretty freaky and true stuff. To freak ourselves out, sometimes my friends and I would drive down the road at night telling ghost stories. When the moon is a full red harvest moon, and the wind is blowing just right, it looks like there might be bodies hanging from the branch, slowly swaying in the breeze.” –Rob S. One of our readers reported that at times there have been bodies seen hanging from that branch, though they turned out to be merely uniformed dummies of rival high school football players hung in effigy by the local home team. The Devil’s Tree Will Break You At the time of our arrival to the Devil’s Tree, there was a six foot noose hanging from the big branch, which extends out of one side. We noticed what looked like claw marks from a person or very large animal. To get a better view, myself and a friend climbed the tree to see if any unique marks were further up. After we climbed up, we were sitting on the branch trying to remove the noose. As we sat on the branch, we began to hear noises coming from inside the tree. When these noises grew even louder, a big bang sounded and a burst of energy came from the tree sending myself and my friend flying into the air. When I crashed to the ground, I landed on my ankle, breaking it in 2 places. –Steve K. The Devil’s Tree and Heat Rock Right next to the Devil’s Tree, there is a rock. It is very warm. Some people call it Heat Rock. People say it is the gate to hell. –Elmo M. No Snow at the Devil’s Tree We went to the Devil’s Tree in December when the ground was snow-covered. However, an eight by twelve foot circle of ground around the tree was totally bone dry. Later, when we were driving home, one of our friends thought he was cool because he took a piece of bark off of the tree and had it on him in the car. We pulled the car over, yelled at him, and made him throw it out the window! –Damian The Mark of the Devil My friends and I went up to the Devil’s Tree one night and got out of the car and touched the it. Afterward we went to Applebee’s to get something to eat and everyone that was sitting at the table suddenly had all of our hands turn black! We don’t know why, but it took us two and a half hours to get the blackness off of our hands! –Melissa C. The Children of the Tree We have all heard the story of not messing with Devil’s Tree, so we were smart and didn’t mock the tree. We went right next to the tree, and put our ears next to the bark. We heard sounds of screaming and children playing. –Matt W. A Shocking Experience I went up to the Devil’s Tree this past mischief night with two of my friends (both of whom were girls). I just wanted to scare them. I told them all the stories and tall tales that went along with it. I parked the car and proceeded to get out and walk to the tree. I got within arms distance and reached out and touched it as I had many times before… it’s kind of like a ritual I have. When I placed my hand on the tree, a single strike of lightning illuminated the sky. I don’t know what caused it to happen, but when I touched the tree, the lightning struck, and when I took my hand off, the lightning disappeared. It could’ve been coincidence, or could have been paranormal proof of the legend’s truth. Either way I thought it was cool and it scares the hell out of me now. –Brian D. Don’t Pee on the Devil’s Tree! I am reminded of an incident which occurred about 8 years back, when I was in high school, concerning the Devil’s Tree. We had all heard the legend of this infamous spot and there was much talk of it around my school. One night, my friends and I decided to pay it a visit and see for ourselves how true the legends were. We headed out and came upon the tree. We all began to have very bad feelings and decided to scrap our idea of actually getting out of the car and approaching the scene. We turned around and left without incident. About a week or so later, the talk of the tree began to escalate and one of the kids in the popular crowd began saying that it was all a bunch of bullshit. A few days later, his mind would be changed forever. This guy and a carload of other rowdy types decided to go up to see the tree that weekend. On Friday night, they began their journey up the mountain to see what it was all about. A friend of mine was in that car, and his story is as follows. Apparently, after cruising back and forth several times, the kids were getting bad vibes and wanted to leave. The kid who was driving, and who was the one proclaiming in school that the story was bullshit became angry at the “wimps” for having bad feelings. He stated to his friends that he was going to prove once and for all that the story was nothing and that he wasn’t fazed by it. He pulled his car over on the side of the road, right before the bend and got out. Marching up to the tree, he began yelling challenges to the so-called spirits. Nothing happened, so to further prove his fearlessness, he pulled down his pants and urinated all over the base of the tree. Still, nothing happened. He muttered an “I told you so” and got back into the car. After starting the car, he began to drive towards the bend in the road slowly. Suddenly, without warning, the gas pedal of the car became floored and the car sped up all by itself. Surprised at what was happening, the guy was unable to control the car and it skidded out and collided into a tree. The kids in the car sustained minor injuries but the car was totaled. I showed the stories of the Devil’s Tree featured in your magazines to my sister. As I read the tales aloud she became very pale when I got the part about the headlights which follow you then go out suddenly. I asked her what was wrong and she replied, “Oh my God – I went up there about a year ago and got chased out by the same black pick-up truck. It was severely tailgating me and when we got a short distance away, the lights were just suddenly gone.” She and I have never gone back since then. I am open for commission using color pencil or lead pencil for original artwork of subject matters such as Sci-fi, Fantasy, Horror, Comics, Fanart, NSFW, Surreal art, Whimsical art, Abstract art, and Tattoo designs. Sizes range from 8.5x11, 9x12, 11x14, 11x17. The Commission rate starts from $20 and up. if interested leave a comment or jungmeister4@yahoo.com MY CALENDAR FOR SALE: https://www.artwanted.com/artist.cfm?ArtID=115637&Tab=Calendar

Let's take a look at the real anatomy of our favourite clucking critter!

the truth is out there

This is the largest canvas thus far for me. In progress!! Multiple projects are in sway with this baby of mine. Feel free to check the link for updates on all the moving parts, including video and still shots with hidden treasures added in between (little surprise pop-ups of newness) along the way. https://photos.app.goo.gl/eNiH1mwVbFHaAyAZ9 Here's some music that inspires me, along with links to listen live or on replay. Phenomenal! - DJ OTB for your creative journey. I love getting lost in the music while I dig deep to paint or create my soul expression. Much gratitude to all those out there who inspire me every day. https://www.mixcloud.com/djtruebrit-otb/ https://www.mixcloud.com/djtruebrit-otb/a-journey-in-house-afro-melodic-progressive-chill-13072024/ https://www.mixcloud.com/djtruebrit-otb/a-journey-in-house-afro-melodic-progressive-vibes-13072024/

Sometimes I just need to vent. This is my sarcastic take on our fallible humanity and one of my ways of dealing with absurdity. My therapy.

Stripped of skin, status, and story, what remains is the truth beneath it all. Bone Deep is a minimalist skeletal portrait rendered in graphite and ink on canvas, built through cross-hatching, stark contrast, and deliberate restraint. The exaggerated skull and hollow eyes confront the viewer directly — not with fear, but with inevitability.

What is real and what is not? What is a lie and what is truth? When mental health and religion can't coexist.

This figure explores how the relentless pursuit of monetary gain and digital distraction stifles genuine attention and moral listening. * Visual Focus: The mask is equipped with a headphone covering a single ear. The headphone wire is visibly broken, frayed, and cut short, suggesting a deliberate disconnect or a failed attempt at communication. A small coin dangles conspicuously from the corner of the figure's mouth. * Symbolism: * The Headphones: Represent modern distraction and the ability to selectively "tune out" inconvenient truths or moral calls. The broken, frayed wire reinforces the idea of a failed connection to the real world. * The Coin in the Mouth: Serves as a powerful, visceral metaphor for being "consumed by monetary means." It connects the act of speaking/listening to the theme of greed, suggesting that the voice and ear are functionally "plugged" or corrupted by the all-consuming focus on wealth. The refusal to hear moral guidance is dictated by the pursuit of money.

With our words in sentences With our ideas in motion With our social customs in our lives With our practices and habits We force things upon ourselves and others Within each of these realms Instead of developing understanding Instead of searching for meaning Instead of exploring their functions And discovering the shapes that fit.

Uncomfortable truths are enough to rip you apart… literally.

These to fantastic friends are characters I made 2 or 3 years ago. Gremlin is a mix between a fox (who finds his face ugly) and a goblin who was incredibly smart, and Mr. Brick is a small robot with a living soul that Gremlin created. I was looking through some of the old comics, and decided to make a new Mr. Brick and Gremlin comic, when I got the idea for this disgusting comic. I hope you found it funny, it took a while to make.

A 3 format We love when Puppet amused! We always learn from The Greatest! Warning! The following text is intended for fans of Puppet Zvonko! People with poor cognitive abilities may remain confused. We Puppetapostles, we keep track of what our Lord Puppet is doing, we study each of his movements, each his word is recorded and subjected to philosophical analysis. And always, again, over and over again, our conviction is strengthened every time: He is the God of eternal wisdom and the correct procedures! It is known that Puppet Zvonko - for their own entertainment - whips, branded and cuts people with a razor, often with mortal consequences. We gladly approve of it, it is reasonable to Overpower must feel comfortable and have fun, with us, miserable microbes. We are happy that we are honored with its perfect presence. For the last month, we noticed that his Torture Trinity (razor, whip, stamp) was exclusively used by one unbeliever, just a blow - two, and then Puppet goes away. Instead of showing happiness which the Puppet is experiencing him at all, touching his pagan body with sacred objects, the unbeliever tries to hide, of course, in vain. We Puppetapostles, we also know that most of the inhabitants of the Magic Valley, to say the least, does not approve Puppet Zvonko proceedings (here we mention that those miserable ones, blind with healthy eyes, The Puppet is called a monster, concentration of evil and other totally wrong names). The Puppetapostles remain in their firm claim: Puppet Zvonko sends his sacred, allegorical messages to the inhabitants of the Magic Valley by his actions - and other beings - who are sufficiently mature to accept the truth, final knowledge, the purpose of life. Now comes the time when we need to understand why Puppet bothering just one unbeliever for a month! Have we developed enough cognitive power or we are just miserable microbes - how does Puppet claim?

This was made months ago since i was a imgur user but that website was not for artists so i moved to here. Have fun. It's the truth that this is original and if you see this in other websites that is because i posted it in 3 websites: tacticsoft community, imgur and here. Links to websites:http://community.tacticsoft.net/ https://imgur.com/gallery/qJwvA2p

Yep.

Sometimes wisdom comes in a joke, and sometimes laughter carries truth. Brian spoke like a sage, Mike answered like a friend, and together they held the room. We draw to remember. Not only the lines of faces, but the presence of goodness, the gift of voices that echo long after the chairs are empty.

Sometimes the quickest drawings hold the deepest truths. During an after-sermon discussion about understanding the love of God, I found myself listening with one ear and drawing with the other. Frank, seated across the room, made a natural model—relaxed posture, thoughtful presence, and a face full of character. With a pen in hand, I traced his form in a quick contour line, following the folds of his shirt, the tilt of his jaw, the stillness of his hands resting in his lap. Contour drawing asks us to see more than just the surface—it demands patience and presence, a slowing down until the line itself feels like prayer. Frank became more than a subject; he was a reminder that the love of God is often revealed in ordinary moments and everyday people.

Chairs are more than wood or iron. They are metaphors, quiet keepers of what it means to be present. They wait, as Wendell Berry might say, for us to “make a place to sit down. Sit down. Be quiet.” I draw them because they embody the humblest love—affection, as Berry calls it, that “gives itself no airs.” In their stillness, chairs hold the weight of relationships, the churn of thought, the grace of silence. They are where we meet, where we linger, where we become. These three drawings are offerings—sketches of chairs that invite connection, reflection, and the slow work of being. Each is a small sacred place, as Berry reminds us, not desecrated by haste or distraction, but alive with possibility. Drawing 1: The Coffee Shop Chairs Two wooden chairs face each other across a small round table in a coffee shop, their grain worn smooth by years of elbows and whispered truths. The table is a circle, a shape that knows no hierarchy, only intimacy. These chairs are for relationships that dare to deepen—for friends who risk vulnerability, for lovers who speak in glances, for strangers who become less strange. They ask for eye contact, for mugs of coffee grown cold in the heat of conversation. Here, sentences begin, “I’ve always wanted to tell you…” or “What if we…” These chairs shun the clamor of screens, as Berry urges, and invite the “three-dimensioned life” of shared breath. They are the seats of courage, where presence weaves the delicate threads of togetherness. Drawing 2: The Sandwich Café Chairs In a sandwich café, two wooden chairs sit across a small square table, its edges sharp, its surface scarred by crumbs and time. These chairs are angled close, as if conspiring. They are for relationships of a different timbre—perhaps the quick catch-up of old friends, the tentative lunch of colleagues, or the parent and child navigating new distances. The square table speaks of structure, of boundaries, yet the chairs lean in, softening the angles. They wait for laughter that spills over plates, for silences that carry weight, for the small confessions that bind us. These are chairs for the work of relating, for the patience that “joins time to eternity,” as Berry writes. They ask us to stay, to listen, to let the ordinary become profound. Drawing 3: The Patio Chair A lone cast-iron chair rests on a patio, its arms open to the wild nearness of nature—grass creeping close, vines curling at its feet, the air heavy with dusk. This chair is not for dialogue but for solitude, for the slow processing of thought. It is the seat of the poet, the dreamer, the one who sits with what was said—or left unsaid. Here, ideas settle like sediment in a quiet stream; here, the heart sifts through joy or grief. As Berry advises, this chair accepts “what comes from silence,” offering a place to make sense of the world’s noise. Its iron roots it to the earth, unyielding yet tender, a throne for contemplation where one might “make a poem that does not disturb the silence from which it came.” This is the chair for becoming, for growing older, for meeting oneself. These three chairs—one for intimacy, one for the labor of connection, one for solitude—are a trinity of relation. They are not grand, but they are true. They hold space for the conversations that shape us, the silences that heal us, the thoughts that root us. They are, in Berry’s words, sacred places, made holy by the simple act of sitting down. My drawings are but traces of these places—postcards from moments where we might remember how to be with one another, or how to be alone. So, pull up a chair. Or three. Sit down. Be quiet. The world is waiting to soften.

I have a certain energy that runs through me, almost like a current. Balancing this energy can be quite a challenge, but I have found that meditation helps me to find my center. I like to quiet the noise around me and focus on my inner truth. Sometimes, I begin my meditation with my eyes closed, allowing my emotions to guide me in sketching out my experiences. This helps me to open up my channels of creativity, which I am currently using to work on my upcoming novel. I can't reveal too much about it yet, but I hope you will enjoy the sneak peeks I'll be sharing as I work toward completion.