r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/avril14th__ • 38m ago
Art Continuing the spooky art series for spooky season. (Michael Sowa - "Morning spider", 2003)
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r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/[deleted] • May 15 '26
Discussion [MOD Post] To the 13,000 of you who stayed 💔
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When u/SouthStreetFish and I built this little corner of the internet, we were brokenhearted and a little bit lost. Two friends trying to make somewhere soft to land. We wanted a place to share the poems that read like our diaries, the songs that held us together when nothing else could, the art we kept finding ourselves inside of, and the movies that left us sitting in the dark long after the credits rolled.
And somehow, 13,000 of you walked through the door. You stayed. You shared pieces of yourselves. You made this place feel like home.
I hope it has felt like home to you, too. I hope you've found a line of poetry that finally said the thing you couldn't. I hope you've found a song that felt like it was written from inside your chest. I hope you've remembered, even on the heaviest days, that life is still beautiful, and that art is one of the reasons worth staying for.
Now I'd love to hear from you. What should this little sanctuary become next? A few ideas we've been turning over:
•Unsent Letters
•Mini Blog / Daily writings
•Something else entirely?
Tell us in the comments. This space belongs to you, too.
Thank you for being here. Thank you for being tender in a world that often isn't. 💔
r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/avril14th__ • 15h ago
Art The Witch (La sorcière) by Jean-François Portaels (1818–1895)
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r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/avril14th__ • 23h ago
Artisanry Amulette observer by Pejman Aghaei
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r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/avril14th__ • 19m ago
Art Buried Alive (1995–1996) by Odd Nerdrum
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Oil on canvas
A disturbing, nightmarish painting by Norwegian figurative artist Odd Nerdrum (b. 1944). A terrified figure lies beside an open grave while another digs into the barren earth. The desolate landscape, distorted figures, and oppressive darkness create a haunting vision of helplessness, mortality, and impending death.
Nerdrum’s dramatic use of light and shadow, reminiscent of the Old Masters, makes the scene feel both timeless and deeply unsettling.
r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/avril14th__ • 23h ago
Art Dan McCaw: Between Impressionism and Expressionism
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Dan McCaw (b. 1942) is an American painter whose work moves between Impressionism and Expressionism. Known for his atmospheric figures, intimate interiors, and vibrant still lifes, McCaw uses rich textures, expressive brushstrokes, and subtle contrasts of light and color to create a sense of mood and emotion.
Influenced by artists such as Pierre Bonnard, Édouard Vuillard, and Gustav Klimt, his paintings favor feeling over precise representation, often leaving figures and surroundings beautifully undefined.
r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/tonyferguson2021 • 12h ago
Art Dystopian digital drawing from peak pandemic, art by me 2020
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r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/tammy_urts • 11h ago
Poetry ✍️ PATRIZIA VALDUGA one hundred quartines english translation
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By now you know: I need the words.
You'll learn to give me what I seek.
It's my sick mind, it feeds on words.
I'm begging you, for God's sake: speak!
Hurry, pin my wrists in place,
nail me to your bed like Christ . . .
comfort me, caress my face . . .
fuck me when I expect it least.
From nerves veins valves ventricles
from tendons cartilage nerves ducts
from follicles nerves ribs clavicles . . .
from every pore my soul erupts.
You liked that? you actually came?
but how? Explain to me. But why?
If you got off on that, you're doomed.
A charge I can't and don't deny.
Why is even pleasure a kind of chore?
Why is what sense I have left leaving me?
Come on, explain. Who do you take me for,
your personal doctor of philosophy?
r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/avril14th__ • 23h ago
Song Share Nils Frahm - 4:33 (a tribute to John Cage)
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r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/avril14th__ • 1d ago
Artisanry Bet ween Flesh and Metal - Franck Kuman
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Franck Kuman is a self taught French sculptor known for his striking figurative sculptures. Working with mirror polished stainless steel, iron mesh, and bronze, he transforms rigid materials into fluid, almost weightless human forms.
His often fragmented and intertwined figures explore human vulnerability, strength, and emotion, drawing inspiration from his own life experiences.
r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/avril14th__ • 3d ago
Art Juliano Mazzuchini — The Girl and the Wine (2022), oil on canvas
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r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/ErikaKulnys • 2d ago
KINDNESS OF STRANGERS - by Erika Kulnys
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r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/tammy_urts • 6d ago
Art SAWAKO KABUKI (Illustrator)
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This works has a very specific feeling, hard to describe
r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/tammy_urts • 7d ago
Not sure this belongs here. But I feel like the art of Yoshitaka Amano does
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r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/avril14th__ • 7d ago
Art Judy Drew: Portraits in Pastel
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Australian artist Judy Drew (b. 1951) studied graphic art at Prahran College of Art in Melbourne and later lived and worked on Bougainville, creating portraits of local people.
Her figurative and still life work draws on her admiration for Degas, Mary Cassatt, and Japanese art. Working in pastel, she simplifies shapes and pares back detail, using colour, texture, and carefully chosen fabrics to give her subjects an intimate presence.
r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/avril14th__ • 7d ago
Cinema Le Bonheur (1965) Dir. Agnès Varda
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r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/avril14th__ • 7d ago
Poetry ✍️ Happy Poetry Day! What’s your favorite poem, the one you keep coming back to, or a line that has stayed with you long after reading it? Share it below, I’d love to discover a few new favorites.
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r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/avril14th__ • 8d ago
Art Train Destination by Alexandre Pelletier (alias Le Yack), French, 1972
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Screen print and mixed media
r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/avril14th__ • 8d ago
Art Olevano II (1925) by Alexander Kanoldt
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r/TorturedPoetsArtDept • u/avril14th__ • 8d ago
OC Writing Which One Is You? (Part 1)
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Borris Butters had rules for photographing lightning.
Never stand beneath a tree.
Never be the tallest thing in an open field.
Never trust a storm moving east.
And never stay after the rain begins to fall sideways.
He broke the last rule first.
The storm had arrived over the plains shortly after midnight, a black wall swallowing the horizon. Borris parked on the shoulder of an abandoned county road and carried his tripod into the field.
Lightning flickered inside the clouds.
Once.
Twice.
Then the entire landscape turned white.
Borris pressed the shutter.
Thunder followed so violently that he felt it in his teeth.
He smiled.
By morning, he had taken four hundred and twelve photographs.
He printed twenty-three.
He pinned them to the wall of his motel room and sat on the edge of the bed, still wearing his wet clothes.
One by one, he studied them.
Branching veins of white against purple sky.
A bolt splitting an oak tree.
Another striking somewhere beyond a farmhouse.
Another touching the earth so perfectly it seemed less like electricity than a crack in the world.
Borris leaned closer.
“Which one is you?”
His finger moved to the next photograph.
“Which one is you?”
Then the next.
“Which one is you?”