#safa art

[iraqi-menace]

been watching the demon hound arc and I pretty much doodled

[yamikuruku]

head empty 👁👁

say hello to Safa the service dog Varren, for anyone who has not seen them yet

[tlmtwelve]

July 11, 2024: TAY-0

[kissingagrumpygiant]

old gals beings old pals 🫶

[wolffe-makes-art]

Doodled some ocs ^^ some of whom I haven’t drawn in years 😭

[siyahisttsblog]

“Yarayla alay eder, yaralanmamış olan”

[afandomroom]

Safa redraw/redesign/update idk sldkjf :D

[funsetsunset]

How to win friends: give them free glasses

[somehowwow]

Design by Safa El Samad, Louis Mokak and Dennis Grauel

[birtutamkaybolmak]

Bu aralar okuduğum kitaplar. ✨🕯️

[maxiewell]

my wlw polycule <3

[iraqi-menace]

[tonyhentai]

NAS SAFA - Sam Bankman-Fried

Actually Giordano could have succumb to a devilish little trick his own damn self is he burning in flames of folly I’m tossing syllables onto a blockchain with the ex-boo of Sam Bankman-Friend. 

Alternate interpretations of Noah’s nine hundred fifty year five paragraph essay are they drowning in the flames of an immanent plane that extends into the jurisdiction of the Kingdom of Heaven? 

Troubled souls tell you ‘Timing is everything’ only to call at the absolutely most inopportune times you ask yourself if it’s possible you’ve become morally outraged in logically inconsistent ways? 

Maybe about things which have nothing to do with you?—wearing a five dollar Foot Locker tee I tossed a David Yurman ring into the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean or actually maybe it was just the box. 

I suppose it’s somewhat irrelevant now timing is everything—no waiting is a logical inconsistency since time immemorial people have posted up for shifts on end and only received chlamydia. 

Total Syllables: 268 

BPM: 89 

SPM: 396.01 (5.06% variance to 377)

[longlistshort]

“Le Sporting”, 2024, Oil on canvas

“Ce soleil est la mer tout entière de mon enfance”, 2024, Oil on canvas

“Nathan (Venise) III”, 2024, Oil on canvas

“Le ciel est bleu, les montagnes sont vertes”, 2024, Oil on canvas

Christine Safa’s paintings for These are the days I (have) love(d) at Bortolami’s upstairs gallery, capture the way memories often feel. The figures emerge from her canvases in a beautiful, dreamlike haze.

From the press release-

Painted from the memories of time spent in and around the Mediterranean, Safa returns to the studio, distilling these instances, rendering intimate landscapes, portraits of friends, lovers, and reminisced occasions. At certain moments, the human body sublimates into landscape—a shoulder becomes a mountain, or the horizon blends with a profile—moving in and out of one another. In Safa’s words:

“I see my paintings as tributes, fragments of memories, that which remains. That’s what I paint, what’s left. As I paint, I give birth to the silhouette, the shape of the ruins of memories which both greet and are the victims of time; which for me means my experience of these interior landscapes.”

Layered imagery adjoins distinct recollections as Safa refracts them through her body and mind in her attempt to record them as precisely as she can. Each title furthers our understanding of the artist as both painter and poet, acting as poems unto themselves, enhancing the meaning she seeks through paint and pigment.

Safa’s use of color and texture play a pivotal role in achieving the dreamy poeticism in her work and harken back to the influence of 15th century Italian painting and its relation to frescoes. She achieves her vibrant pallet by mixing pure pigment with oil, and creates plaster-like surfaces with rabbit skin glue and marble powder. This chalky, thickened substrate allows her to probe the canvas, to carve and scrape in her search for the image. The process is rightfully a slow one, as Safa forever encapsulates these fleeting moments into canvas, and her practice thus reveals itself as the poetic investigation and recollection of time passed.

This exhibition closes 6/8/24.

[we-loves-them-robots]

Blorbo has been released

[wolffe-makes-art]

Safa headshots! First time designing her without her mask