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Why are we imprisoned by society's idea of beauty? Why do we conform to others' whims as to how someone should look? Why do we deck ourselves up with things that hold no meaning?

Why do we hold on so tight to frills and embellishments, forcing ourselves to believe that we're nothing without them, when all they do is hide who we really are?

Or was that the motive in the first place?

Pink Floyd Blues (Part 2)

"What did you dream? It's alright, we told you what to dream."

 (Welcome to the machine, Pink Floyd)

We sit still in a puddle of complacency, and wait to be taught how to live. And they are only too happy to teach us, direct us, and to control us. And soon we'll all become clones of each other. Eating, sleeping, fucking, existing like we were told to. And soon, there will be nothing left to believe in. No dreams, no love, no peace.

Welcome, they'll say then. Welcome to the machine.

(Illustration - pen, acrylic colours, scotch brite)

Pink Floyd Blues (Part 1)

I couldn't touch. I couldn't see. I couldn't breathe.

But I could hear it. And I could feel it.

And so I sang along.

(Illustration - colour pencils, poster paint, acrylic paint and pen)

Dark Eyes (Pen)

"I'm ready to go anywhere, I'm ready for to fade into my own parade. Cast your dancing spell my way, I promise to go under it."

Thank you, Bob Dylan. You're my Tambourine Man. :)

Image reference:

That's a poster for the movie, I'm not there. It's amazing, btw. Go watch it when you can. :)