Latest Posts by edniz - Page 2

There is a process video here! 

A small painting with miniature details.

At last, I have gotten into my own zone of creativity after a long long way being lost.

It is no surprise but I am nevertheless delighted to understand that each person has their own path in art, which they do not get to choose for themselves. Appearently mine is in painting detailed and pretty pictures of imaginary places and imaginary people. So I discover different worlds and I paint images from those worlds.

Even though there are all sorts of things I enjoy looking at, I came to understand that something which exist only in its own right in a frame doesn’t grab my interest enough to engage in its creation. I am only motivated to make art when I have a story in mind. I mean characters and places, not a whole plot. But it is a story, and one that only I know of. So such a painting I make is never solely its content as it is, but has its totality in me. It is a whole other world which I seem to somehow connect to.

I am not interested in things of this world, as in the common world that is shared by the whole collective. A lot of artworks only speak to you through a filter of culture. Unfortunately the modern artists did a horrible job in this sense. They were interested in art itself (mostly in how it could express ambigious ideas through shifts of perception) and produced for art’s sake. This meant that they stayed in the boundaries of this world with mere inventions to rediscover it in different ways. All the play with the form was mostly due to a need to pierce through the rigidity of cultural conditioning. The production of an art piece was done (consciously or unconsciously) in consideration to the knowledge of existing forms, hence the cultural relevence. You play in the same ground that you are trying to destroy, only on the other side of it.

I don’t and will never see art as a concept inside the context of collective life. I believe that art is something so personal, so geniune, so naive that there can be no intelligable, sensible reason for making art. Art doesn’t care about common standarts of beauty or properness, but neighter favours unconventionality. It doesn’t care about originality, expression, inovation, or anything that has any sort of meaning in social terms. Art doesn’t care about what some audience will percieve of of it. Art doesn’t consider the situations of an outside world that a human may find relevant. Art doesn’t even care about the earthly wishes and worries of its own producer. It commands you in ways that you may not wish it had.

Art doesn’t care about anything but its own source of springing that we do not understand by any means. That is what Jung called the (collective) unconscious. I was foolish to think that such manifestation could only happen in a sort of psychic manner, almost without my consent. It appears that my personality with all of its earthliness has artistic quality instead, and it alone can do this. It is an incredible discovery that my simple inspirations that appear absolutely personal to me are actually springing from an impersonal “spiritual” source. So essentially my understanding of the so called spiritual was heavily lacking. So was my understanding of art and crafts of course. (Yes, I think that crafts are such an important part of this whole thing as well but I am running out of energy to write more)

I honestly had such a hard time without this singlemost activity of mine that has always been so essential to me. It surely never could have been thought of as a coincidence that the first thing I started to do as a toddler was to draw vigorously. And during all the other times of my life as well. But I also have a quite philosophical mind, so I can never do something without also thinking about its meaning. I have to consciously put it in its right place in my system. Finding out about and enjoying new aspects of art, as well as making the huge discovery of the psychic realms, I was entirely confused as to what art was is in the past 3 years. And of course there is the part about starting to see myself as an adult who has to take some part in society, hence the problem of submitting to its rules. My mind came to be stronger than my will and I lost my connection to the source of my artistic inspiration. When I was left without it, I never felt safe and at home.

Now I understand better and appreciate its gift more. I no longer try to be an artist, because I know I am one. I don’t judge what I produce but I make sure I am enjoying myself. There are still all sorts of causes of frustration, but they too shall pass.

If anybody has actually read this, have a nice day!

Embryo Inside a Cave of a Castle of Creature-hood

The Pathfinder and At Least 3 Worlds (2018) 

This image is significant to me, which has much to do with its unusual way of emerging. It is not my creation but rather my sober hallucination. I started with tree branch-like shapes and a background texture. In the texture I was seeing things, and I started giving them visibility by going over them, preserving their original appearance. After I did this throughout the whole image, I checked whether there was a pattern with the images that had come about, and realised that the painting was divided into three.

LEFT - HELL

On the left, figures like demons (middle) as well as what I believe to be a suffering woman has emerged (bottom). An interesting detail which didn’t emerge clearly in the picture, but that I can vividly feel, is a girl of innocence who has sat on a dragon.

MIDDLE - EARTH



A dog’s face, a snake preying on a bird, a boy with headwear over them, a pregnant woman are some figures among this part of the image that emerges from the branch-like shapes that give the whole work its body, it’s structure. The most important figure of all is that whom I called the Pathfinder. He is a dwarf-like figure with a pointy hat, has lifted his hand as though if he is in command and is somewhat mischievous though also religious. I imagine him appearing to those who seek and take them places on a vast green, rocky land.

RIGHT - HEAVEN

 This part of the image is the one with the least figures, and is also divided into two. On the top, there is a being of a different dimension, somewhat in the appearance of an elf, smiling mischievously as though if seeing through the dreadful humor of existence. On the bottom, there is a wise old man with a key and a badger-like animal appearing next to his image.

Transitory Figures

There are two figures in the Earth section that seem to be referencing to the Heavens. One is a small alien, much like a baby in a womb, standing between earth and the elf-like being. The other is the face of a man on branches, which seems like a narrow reflection of the wise old man (though a different person).

Lokum Yiyen Gündüz (The Day Eating Turkish Delight) January 2018

Sometimes the art process takes me nowhere near my own personal look on art. 

This particular image started out with me painting a red circle, and continued without my own will. This is how it goes:  There is a direct instruction in my head to paint a certain color in a certain shape in a certain place. After I do that, I get the second instruction that may appear very clearly or sometimes rather blurry. 

Step by step I follow out this out of nowhere input, and I don’t judge whatever it may be doing. It is as though of I am not creating the image myself, but recreating an already existing image. 

When I finish, I am unsure whether I actually like what comes out, since I never included my own taste and interest in it anyway. But I still pay it much respect since it comes from the other side with a reason.

Can you hear it? Can you feel it? 
It is coming
They are coming
They are the forgotten ones
They are coming to take their lands back
From now on no sight shall be without their unifying magic of insanity
They have been hiding in your eyes
In your eyes

Today I walked home listening to The Modern Things from Bjork. I just had to draw something upon my arrival. 

I realize art is not so much about what you actually create, but it’s about imprinting an experience so that it will stay with you. All my favorite works were created in moments of some sort of importance. Had I not created them, what would have I done with all the emotions? As the works stay I can revisit them and remember that such a thing has indeed happened, that it has taken its course in reality and in me. 

Then why was it that we were taught to create for the sake of expression, beauty, novelty, importance in terms of development, or anything of the sort that actually has nothing to do with us? Why should I care if a work is any good in expressing this or that emotion, idea, or whatever? If it does, am I expectant to be satisfied by the fact that I could objectively and skillfully convey my situation, and enabled myself, an unseen and untouched reality, to finally materially exist in society? 

It is indeed true that I was tricked into thinking so. That’s why I’m talking about it! Then what should one do next? Will I really be able to go for myself?

Would it make sense if I said all my searching has been in vain? It all started with a boy who infused himself into me like a chemical. I had dreamed of him for very long, so had he come to me. What he showed me, I am not sufficient to tell. To this day it has been greater than me. That was when I stopped posting on here.   But my search has only been after he left. Now I am angry for old bearded men have corrupted and sucked from my juicy life sources. I want somewhere to be juicy again. After 3 long years I am here again to be more senseless than ever?  Who knows how long will I stay.

It is 5 am. Or maybe 6. He is the only one who is awake. The weather is chilly. Street lamps are now off. Birds are starting to wake up, but for now, it is all silent. It is silent and desolate so he can be all alone with “it”. That’s what he lives for.

The best time of the day.

More works: [x]

My final project of this year’s graphic design class.

This is a back to back spread that becomes some sort of a booklet when it is folded. The facing pages are those that I have uploaded separately, and you can see the whole spread at the very beginning. 

Our wonderful teacher (Adam Pekalski) had given each of us a city from Italo Calvino’s novel, Invisible Cities. The stories in the book are very visual, you instantly have an image in your head as you read them. I really enjoyed picturing and illustrating Zobeide. Also I’ve got to say that I was inspired by Dragon Age Inquisition’s tarot card designs (I really love them). 

It is the original and the whole text in the pictures, so read it and enjoy it.

WIP (Though I don’t really know what to do with it)

It was a very sunny day and I was in the school bus. For some reason, the bus followed a different path that day and I got a weird sensation out of the places we passed through. So this was made with the inspiration coming from that bus trip. 

They were always of the land and they were the land themselves.

A result of sketching while listening to this.

For more of my works: [x]

There is a lot going on with him.

We were designing album covers for a class, so I chose to do one for Dead Can Dance’s latest album Anastasis. The first project I worked so hard on since I started studying graphic design.

Secretly drawing people in the train.

Very quick sketches of Hikari Club members I drew when I was nostalgic. Drawing them gives me a really strange, dark yet energetic feeling which I enjoy very much. 

For more of my works: [x]

He was returning home, wondering if...

A cold and long trip at night.

It is 5 am. Or maybe 6. He is the only one who is awake. The weather is chilly. Street lamps are now off. Birds are starting to wake up, but for now, it is all silent. It is silent and desolate so he can be all alone with "it". That's what he lives for.

The best time of the day.

Because I cry every time I think about them.

Gonna put a link to my Hunter x Hunter fanarts here just in case that someone wants to check them out [x]

"Killua, you couldn't get enough sleep? There are dark circles around your eyes." "Yeah..."