Blancoco

Monday, 23 November 2015

Mood-board Monday - Peachy pink

Mistake

Step outside to become self awar

Jump out of the pouch and start your mistakes.

begin to hopscotch through;

cartwheel over, stumble and graze.

Slip and fall.

There we stood in Clarks shoes,

thumbs out in the busy lay-by

conjecturing our free journey.

The missed trains, buses, forgotten permission slips

and unsigned planners;

All had AOL tabs attached with guilt, and

the pure sense of underachievement.

Weight of these mistakes was then carried

on hips and thighs, mistaken kisses, judgmental

divisions.

But the only true mistake was initially accepting

the elder teaching; That one way is

100% right and the other 99% wrong.

CRATE

3m x 0.7m

wood, foam, linen, crystal, wire mesh,

human figure in mod rock, paint

Chloe Hughes - 2015

We climbed the ladder of technology, took on the mantle of civilisation and declared ourselves masters of the planet. Then fought to stand the tallest. A laughable game struck by sin, ending in fright, pushing our own self-destructive button. Villages disappeared in a flash and blinking lights of emergency vehicles were dazzled over glossed eyes.

A mushroom burnt above the horizon, the sky blazed with the radiance of a thousand suns. Millions of lives fragmented into ash and shadow. The blanket of smoke climbed up into our atmosphere to cover our planet, in billowing pillows of black clouds and ash.

This winter was once just a theory, a concept, a myth. Yet the frost and breeze have a murderous touch. Terror depends on people being scared, and shock depends on surprise. As we stood in huddles, ‘terrified' hovered on every child's tongue.

We are called the ‘soft targets’, as the others are hard to hit. They ignited their huge uncontrollable fires, and the sky became so alight. Then we softly laid on the rubble, waiting for the sky to break.

The air is black and clouds could drift for weeks before dropping back, or being washed out of the sky-space. This extreme cold bites the flesh, blisters the radiation and widespread destruction. Hunger struck stomachs and sandpaper throats, bloated frames floated in rivers poisoned by the rain. Fallen bodies and left overs laired like feathers between the broken economy.

A nuclear nightmare smothered latitude and longitude, washed up by blackened veil, and dried by suffocating and subfreezing.

There they stand terminally, gazing, longing and waiting for settling dust.

Apocalyptic illustration

Isometric illustration

We created 6ft tall fashion illustrations aimed at discovering our inner illustrative style. Each choosing adjective 'style words', we tried to portray them through the means of drawing.