Horror Collection

Killer is a very strong word for my profession i prefer to call myself an artist, with a human canvas. Making my brush glade along the paper showing beautiful crimson. Breaking the paper, i smile intrigued. Taking the most important place of my canvas i move up to the top running my fingers along the page using my paint brush to make my creation more insane, mentally breaking and physically yearning for another touch of my brush.

People know i'm a photographer of the human body, it's all quite fascinating. You can take an image in time and make it your own, it's truly fascinating but the more extraordinary part of photography is taking a picture of the human body. I know it's weird to say but why? you may ask, well it's because it looks absolutely exquisite, all the curves and expressions are taken in a moment forever.

I love to grab a hold of the emotions in time still and frozen, all alone in the end i will be near enough your friend, always a beautiful sight so pale and broken but wired up in my bas.e.m.e.nt stopping hoping, i am the artist and you are my human creation.

Laying there painted body down, taking photos of the exquisite masterpiece.

All that vibrant paint helps me think. Taking my stress away and healing me all i need is that and i can think clearly. My body was once a canvas used for i ideas and for fun to paint, while i was bored. Until i found another who made me so happy but let me use my paint brush all day. Making art that should go down in history. She was a perfect canvas that is until she was used up and old, basically expired, so I threw her away and got another. That was young like a beautiful flower. The paintings i made were all meaningful, Although she didn't agree. I had to make my canvas stay still, so i could paint away.

All the paint was too much for her, and she gave up on me. I wasn't letting go of this canvas, oh god no!. Letting it heal for a while so the paint would dry in and forever stay, but her skin had to repair itself or it would you know tear away. I will say the paint was washed away and the paper of my canvas was now okay, it took awhile more than days or weeks but i assure you i waited to play with my paint brushes well to long actually, if you ask me that is.

There was a time I didn't like painting but that's because I was always angry and the anger took away the p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e. I learned to calm down and really love my work for what it truly was, a MASTERPIECE yes, yes I know that's a bit much of a compliment but I assure you it truly was nothingness.

The poor soul I used for my canvas hated every second of my painting, so i had to make my canvas unable to move. I took lots of precautions of course.

These wonderful paintings do mean so much to me. I used barbed wire to make my canvas stay completely still and the glorious effect it had been tremendous. The art was finally complete and i know wires were my ultimate artist defeat, what i mean is- it made me so happy that i couldn't even paint sometimes.

When I let my brush touch the canvas I trembled with excitement, seeing my art unfold. I was now the owner of a beautiful picture, one would keep forever. Taking my camera and giving it my best lens. Capturing all the expressions not wanting it to end seeing those pictures now always make me quiver.

I guess I am just simply, a smart painter.