Sook Jung

2010-10-21T21:50:00.001-07:00

From Sook Jung

From where does the wind blow

gill-breathing

2010-10-13T20:42:00.000-07:00

.

2010-01-21T21:20:00.001-08:00

Andante

2010-01-05T23:45:00.001-08:00

old painting

2009-08-14T14:42:00.001-07:00

Auguries of Innocence

2009-07-30T17:16:00.000-07:00

Quick painting @ park

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.

A dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell thro' all its regions.
A dog starv'd at his master's gate
Predicts the ruin of the state.

A horse misused upon the road
Calls to heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.

A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The game-cock clipt and arm'd for fight
Does the rising sun affright.

Every wolf's and lion's howl
Raises from hell a human soul.

The wild deer, wand'ring here and there,
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misus'd breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher's knife.

The bat that flits at close of eve
Has left the brain that won't believe.
The owl that calls upon the night
Speaks the unbeliever's fright.

He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be belov'd by men.
He who the ox to wrath has mov'd
Shall never be by woman lov'd.

The wanton boy that kills the fly
Shall feel the spider's enmity.
He who torments the chafer's sprite
Weaves a bower in endless night.

The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
For the last judgement draweth nigh.

He who shall train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
The beggar's dog and widow's cat,
Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.

The gnat that sings his summer's song
Poison gets from slander's tongue.
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of envy's foot.

The poison of the honey bee
Is the artist's jealousy.

The prince's robes and beggar's rags
Are toadstools on the miser's bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.

It is right it should be so;
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know,
Thro' the world we safely go.

Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.

The babe is more than swaddling bands;
Every farmer understands.
Every tear from every eye
Becomes a babe in eternity;

This is caught by females bright,
And return'd to its own delight.
The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar,
Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.

The babe that weeps the rod beneath
Writes revenge in realms of death.
The beggar's rags, fluttering in air,
Does to rags the heavens tear.

The soldier, arm'd with sword and gun,
Palsied strikes the summer's sun.
The poor man's farthing is worth more
Than all the gold on Afric's shore.

One mite wrung from the lab'rer's hands
Shall buy and sell the miser's lands;
Or, if protected from on high,
Does that whole nation sell and buy.

He who mocks the infant's faith
Shall be mock'd in age and death.
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.

He who respects the infant's faith
Triumphs over hell and death.
The child's toys and the old man's reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.

The questioner, who sits so sly,
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt
Doth put the light of knowledge out.

The strongest poison ever known
Came from Caesar's laurel crown.
Nought can deform the human race
Like to the armour's iron brace.

When gold and gems adorn the plow,
To peaceful arts shall envy bow.
A riddle, or the cricket's cry,
Is to doubt a fit reply.

The emmet's inch and eagle's mile
Make lame philosophy to smile.
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you please.

If the sun and moon should doubt,
They'd immediately go out.
To be in a passion you good may do,
But no good if a passion is in you.

The whore and gambler, by the state
Licensed, build that nation's fate.
The harlot's cry from street to street
Shall weave old England's winding-sheet.

The winner's shout, the loser's curse,
Dance before dead England's hearse.

Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born,
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.

Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.

We are led to believe a lie
When we see not thro' the eye,
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.

God appears, and God is light,
To those poor souls who dwell in night;
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.

----My favorite poem by William Blake...
The beauties can be found in everywhere, people just don't recognize it.
Only some of the artists and poets do, they do recognize the beauties found in the stain of bathroom tiles. I am not..trying to put it in the word or in the frame. They just come as it is.
I am not trying to pull myself.

While everything is converted to the the numbers in this modern society, I personaly deny to believe in thoses values of numbers.

I just deleted two comments here. Sorry guys

Trevor Lasten wrote...
That is a really abstract painting it looks colurful and kind of eye catchy cool post
bangrudy wrote...
nice paint

July 24 2009

2009-07-24T19:24:00.000-07:00

의존하지않고, 지배당하지않은채로 사랑하며 살아갈수있을까

doodle of today in process

2009-05-03T16:07:00.001-07:00

I was working on the portrait , while I'm chatting with Jin on MSN..It is not finished yet

Croquis in 2009

2009-04-13T15:31:00.000-07:00

This guy was arguing with his girl friend, and his girl friend was weeping on a train

Croquis in 2009

2009-04-13T15:22:00.000-07:00

<----------Click on the picture

"When you draw a figure, imagine that you are sculpting big shape of raw stone."

circulation

2009-04-03T17:33:00.000-07:00

The lethocerus deyrollei use wavelength of water to communicate one another, and it seems like music that the human play

life drawing in 2008

2009-03-29T19:57:00.000-07:00

5min

croquis in 2008

2009-03-29T19:43:00.000-07:00

a picture of my hand

I made a clock

2009-03-29T19:13:00.000-07:00

croquis in 2008

2009-03-27T17:42:00.001-07:00

She was sleeping on a train and has masculine appearance.

croquis in 2008

2009-03-27T17:37:00.001-07:00

I visited my friend who works at a coffeeshop and drew this picture while I'm waiting her to finish her shift

"IS ANYBODY THERE" 거기 누구 없 소

2009-03-27T17:29:00.000-07:00

2008
second acrylic painting
"IS ANYBODY THERE" 거기 누구 없 소

untitled

2009-03-25T19:56:00.000-07:00

croquis in 2008

2009-03-25T19:53:00.000-07:00

Starfucks

croquis in 2008

2009-03-25T19:50:00.000-07:00

This picture is used for the advertisement of Mosaic Studio

croquis in 2008

2009-03-25T19:47:00.000-07:00

a guy in Starbucks

brush pen series in 2008

2009-03-25T17:47:00.001-07:00

life drawing in 2006

2009-03-25T15:33:00.000-07:00

I drew this in 2006, and it is my first life drawing that was hung on the wall of MOSAIC studio for 2years, and then I missed it once, while the studio is moving out to new studio. After a while, I visited old studio to pick up my drawing. some parts of drawings are ripped and damaged, but...I just didn't want to abandon my drawing in empty studio.

croquis in 2007

2009-03-25T15:13:00.000-07:00

He's a musician in Bloor station.

croquis in the past summer of 2008

2009-03-25T14:53:00.000-07:00

I was working at a Coffee & Donut Shop near Woodbine beach at this time, and an old man in this picture was one of my customers. His name is Alex, and he is about ninety years old. He comes everyday in the afternoon and orders one bagle and coffee. He can not walk by himself because he is wonded during second World War, so I had to help him to get out of taxi and help him to sit down on a seat.

croquis in 2006

2009-03-25T14:40:00.001-07:00

I drew this in the bus like 3years ago. I guess I was on my way back to home from high school.