Art, Blog

The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe – Comic

In 2012, my final major project, for my Foundation of Art and Design course, was based on “The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe. I was going through a “make all my art dark” phase, read the darkest of dark poems I could find, I based the project before this one on poems by Emily Dickinson, so I was going in hardcore.

I did a few drawings and paintings, used all my black paint and pens, took a lot of photographs of my friends at the time posing and made this monstrosity. I may be a little hard on myself now, but at the time I was pretty impressed with how it turned out. I am actually cringing at how much ball point pen I was using, which I have not used in a very long time due to discovering the felt tip pen brand ‘Staedtler’. I only learned how to use Photoshop a few months prior to the project, so I would like to apologise for the bad editing.

The poem tells a story about a man being psychologically tormented by a Raven that keeps repeating “Nevermore”. This reminds the man of his dead paramour “Lenore” and all he has lost. I found this poem interesting, other than the fact that it was dark, because the man simply takes this bird as a symbol of every wrong in his life. I could list all the symbolism I got from the poem, but I think I’ll just post a blog of the sketchbook I worked on for the project. (Or at least pick out the best pages, its a very big sketch book.)

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Bloom – Poem

A petite snow drop bud flourished in spring.
Stem rose from mud, white petals took no wing.
The virtuous carnation not yet bloom
Sepals shut pretty, closing off her tomb.

Heat came with the seasons of the tropic,
Hours of the flowers brought new-born clusters
Beauties, naive, open and myopic,
The sun as their high guiding adjuster.

This soil had become the home of the hunt,
The hum of honeymakers came to front.
A bullet of onyx and gold buzzed by,
The snow allure exquisite to his eye.

The pest contained a beastly deep dark drive,
An instinct to play as a collector,
All needed to broaden pride within hive
Thieving a florets most private nectar.
No guilt had he felt taking when sunny
As long as his ego got its honey.

By harvest this hornet forfeit patience,
Could not resist this innocents fragrance.
This pented up urge rashly erupted,
Delicate petals, nectar disrupted.

Spreading like poison through her stem came frost.
Cold piercing spikes through her, now all hope lost.
The home of the hunted now a white quilt,
Ice consumed her as she started to wilt.

Aurora returned after dead winter.
Whites to greens, the sunlight as a tinter.
Jagged fangs of ice now began to thaw,
The blossom had escaped deaths very jaw.
The little white thing took on a new form,
Her delicate beauty and inner storm,
Transformed to a lilly of the valley
Deathly sweet poison became her ally.