SU_E_SIDE

SU_E_SIDE
SU_E_SIDE(S'CRAP ART)

Friday, 15 April 2011

" I've given up the stuff.It became too much,I began drinking every day. A lot...."
"In the begining it helped.It was a comfort.Then everything got worse.My nerves were shot,I grew afraid of everything.I drank even more just to calm myself down,but then I got nervous again,so I drank even more,and finally I was just a nervous wreck..."
" I came close to losing grip totally,and realised I had to put aside the bottle for good."

Zine Madness @ Tollcross Art Room 15th March 2011 on Vimeo by Stefanie Tan

DSCF6315

DSCF6315 by su_e_side
DSCF6315, a photo by su_e_side on Flickr.

DSCF6307

DSCF6307 by su_e_side
DSCF6307, a photo by su_e_side on Flickr.

DSCF6304

DSCF6304 by su_e_side
DSCF6304, a photo by su_e_side on Flickr.

DSCF6300

DSCF6300 by su_e_side
DSCF6300, a photo by su_e_side on Flickr.

DSCF7652

DSCF7652 by su_e_side
DSCF7652, a photo by su_e_side on Flickr.

DSCF7664

DSCF7664 by su_e_side
DSCF7664, a photo by su_e_side on Flickr.

034

034 by su_e_side
034, a photo by su_e_side on Flickr.

035

035 by su_e_side
035, a photo by su_e_side on Flickr.

Picture 137

Picture 137 by su_e_side
Picture 137, a photo by su_e_side on Flickr.

Picture 174

Picture 174 by su_e_side
Picture 174, a photo by su_e_side on Flickr.

Picture 148

Picture 148 by su_e_side
Picture 148, a photo by su_e_side on Flickr.

Picture 1220

Picture 1220 by su_e_side
Picture 1220, a photo by su_e_side on Flickr.

With their backs to the world

" I've given up the stuff.It became too much,I began drinking every day. A lot...."
"In the begining it helped.It was a comfort.Then everything got worse.My nerves were shot,I grew afraidof everything.I drank even morejust to calm myself down,but then I got nervous again,so I drank even more,and finally I was just a nervous wreck..."
" I came close to losing grip totally,and realised I had to put aside the bottle for good."

painting

A painting is not thought out and settled in advance. While it is being done, it changes as one's thoughts change. And when it is finished, it goes on changing according to the state of mind of whoever is looking at it
The New Colossus

By Emma Lazarus, 1883

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"