onelove project

What is the onelove project?

2012-05-25T23:41:00.000-07:00

onelove project - Call for submissions

Many thanks for taking the time to visit the onelove project. The aim of this project is to showcase creative expressions that reveal a uniquely intimate view of love. We welcome submissions in the form of paintings, illustrations, photographs, poems, short stories or any other medium that can be printed. The only requirement is that it be honest, heartfelt and your own work.

There are no biases. All age's, races, colours, creeds and sexualities are invited to participate. It is not by any means restricted to romantic love either, it can be a love of art, music, a parent, friend, mentor etc.

For text submissions please send a word document and for photographic/illustration submissions please send a low res jpeg or pdf to oneloveproject@gmail.com You are invited to send your name to be published with your submission but if you wish to remain anonymous that's fine.

Finally, this is not a search for the 'best' or most 'creative' view on love, there is no such thing. The beauty of love is that it is subjective and non discriminate.

All submissions will be treated with the utmost respect.

Many thanks in advance.

Look me up

2010-01-14T16:09:00.000-08:00

by Denise Phillips

2008-08-10T20:20:00.001-07:00

I wrote your name on the sand
but the tides washed you away..

I'll write you again, some other day.

For bub

2008-05-26T05:23:00.001-07:00

I’ve written verses on love but my words just filled empty poems
I've spoken of love but my words were clichéd quotes
I’ve never known love
until now.

Thank you for loving me when most people would have walked away
Thank you for fixing me, when I didn't know what was broken
Thank you for wiping away my tears and filling me with hope

You are my reason, my rhyme and everything in between

I’ll love you (always)

Love art by Sherry Howlett

2008-01-16T14:33:00.000-08:00

Love is everywhere you go... you take it with you.

Love cloud by Sherry Howlett

2008-01-09T14:12:00.000-08:00

Hope helps you believe... that Love is and always will be. Keep looking up

Love by Siobhan Chapman

2008-01-07T15:21:00.001-08:00

Love is beautifully unique for all people. I painted this abstract
piece a few years ago now, from feelings inside. Perhaps, not
necessarily feelings of love, but guided by feelings of the
possibilities of love

Finding Love

2008-01-07T14:55:00.001-08:00

A simple photo of the one I love. Amongst the vast sea of people out there I have finally found my true love. We live in such a busy world with constant distractions and interruptions but I love this photo as it represents that with all this going on she is my true focus and everything else seems to dissolve into insignificance when I'm with her.

Still life with aphasiac waving hello when she meant goodbye. by R. L. Croft

2007-12-03T16:40:00.001-08:00

This is a drawing of my sister, who endures paralysis of her right limbs and severe aphasia resulting from her stroke almost three years ago. She is 47 years old. I love her.

i heart you by Madeleine Stamer

2007-11-28T14:56:00.000-08:00

This image was created after the birth of our baby,
it is a gesture of love between parent and child. I've
always loved Picasso's simple line drawings depicting
a Mother nursing her child, extremely beautiful,
powerful and inspiring.

Modern Love by Carrie Lipscomb

2007-11-06T15:04:00.000-08:00

This photo was taken while I was in London. The image is a simple embrace, a love captured in a simple moment in time.

Heart Chakra by Katie Manekshaw

2007-11-04T18:35:00.001-08:00

I painted this picture when I was in the throws of crazy, happy, love

Smooth as Silk by Matt Mignanelli

2007-11-04T18:29:00.001-08:00

This piece represents a moment of pleasure, an escape, while also a display of dominance. All of which comprise the complex equation that is love.

Blind Angel by Horus

2007-11-04T17:11:00.000-08:00

For me, the theme of love is shown in my work as a method of getting over lost love. This piece represents my process of discarding the past.

The girl represented in this piece is an ex who left me for all the wrong reasons (or so I thought at the time) - Hence her blindness.

Unfinished Vixxxen by Horus

2007-11-04T12:00:00.000-08:00

This piece represents another lost opportunity at happiness with someone who turned out not to be the person i thought she was.

Both of these pieces represent a strong emotional state for me, and painting these pieces was a method of getting over the people they represented...and now remains a way for those people and times to stay with me forever.

You Are Everything by Garry McEwan

2007-10-28T17:27:00.000-07:00

by Vaike

2007-10-24T21:02:00.000-07:00

‘love is all there is. it’s just all there really is.’

Can't get you out of my head by Garry McEwan

2007-10-23T18:56:00.000-07:00

Intimate Strangers by Garry McEwan

2007-10-23T18:53:00.000-07:00

Safe by Julie Vulcan

2007-09-30T13:34:00.001-07:00

Love or Hate You're Dead by Grace Savvas

2007-09-30T12:51:00.000-07:00

watch her wet her lips
taste her kisses that kill on desire
look into her eyes
she's bewitched you baby, love or hate you're dead

she's a bad, bad girl
her mamma never loved her, her daddy had to spank her
she's a bad, bad girl
you try to resist her she's a temptress in her web

she'll look you up and down, picking hearts like flowers
make her smile, you're in trouble baby, love or hate you're dead

she's a bad, bad girl
her mamma never loved her, her daddy had to spank her
she's a bad, bad girl
you try to resist her she's a temptress in her web

she's got you now....
she sees passion, she see's love, she sees the colour red.

The Agony of Ecstasy by Paula Maguire

2007-09-24T06:20:00.000-07:00

He came one night, in a dream
Stealthily
Like most men do.
He took me unawares
And washed my soul with love,
A love I could not bear to feel
So heavy was it’s burden.
The shock of unfullfilment
Weighed heavy,
Dragged me down and down
Until my agony was his ecstasy
And I loved too much
To live without the pain.

He came one night in a dream,
And fear stayed with the morning light
Dragging me down.

He left in the night.
Not as he’d come, with stealth
But with what he’d left behind.
The crashing pain
Dragging me down,
Until I believed my agony
Was the cause of his ecstasy.

by Michelle

2007-09-10T00:40:00.000-07:00

From when love hurt so bad that i couldn't get out of bed

by Michelle

2007-09-10T00:35:00.000-07:00

This is a picture of how i realised i could actually feel loved by someone and that others don't always take your love .. sometimes they give too. But it's hard to let them, if all you've ever known is how to love not how to be loved.

Disenchanted by Fi Byrne

2007-09-02T17:32:00.000-07:00

This was the inevitable end
the anticlimax to a debauched trend
A real life Dorian Grey
just a different vice in the modern day

Can i forget what I've done?
or forgive who I've become?
Can we ever be absolved
when it's our sacred soul that we've appalled?

I’m drowning in a sea of dread,
but it’s my own hand holding my head.
I'm sinking to the bottom for a purgatory rest,
a broken soul with a dagger, through it's hollow, ravaged chest.

by Gillian

2007-08-28T00:14:00.000-07:00

I heard a quote the other day...'When someone you love leaves they take a little bit of your heart with them'. Well, quite frankly, I don't know how much more my heart can take. How many more people do I have to wave goodbye to? I'm afraid my heart has so many gaps in it these days, that with the next big loss it will just crumble away.

Self Portrait by Sofia Fitzpatrick

2007-08-23T17:55:00.000-07:00

by Sofia Fitzpatrick

2007-08-22T22:19:00.000-07:00

The pastel drawing is of my ex husband Ian Rilen,

We were married for three years.

I drew it when I was married to him; I loved watching him sleep.
He looked so peaceful and beautiful...

I met Ian at the Cricketer's Arms in Surry Hills, Sydney when I was 22 years old; that was eleven years ago.
We were instantly in love the minute our eyes met...
We held hands under the table like school kids madly in love...
I asked him what he did, and he said that hes a musician and he has a band called Skin Diver
I was delighted to hear that as I am an artist and at the time I was painting a painting of a diving lady...

That week we bumped into each other three times,
The first was at the cricketer's,
The second time we met was at the Hopetoun hotel in Surry Hills

Ian passed me a joint; I don't smoke... I had a puff and I fainted
When I came to.... Ian was right above me with a silly grin on his face
He walked me home with his big 89 kilo dog Henry...
I felt embarrassed for fainting and he thought it was cute...

On the third time we met Ian invited me to his house he held my hand and asked me to marry him...
We hadn't even kissed yet... I said yes straight away.... and then we kissed...I had never felt happier

Ian and I got married three months later at the Cricketer's Arms where we met...
His two daughters were my bridesmaids and his son and friend Michael Cocks were best man.

His kids came from Melbourne and stayed with us for a few weeks
It was great; we all got along like a house on fire. It was beautiful.

For a while things where so wonderful.... We stayed up all night writing music together and drawing together...
I felt that I had met my soul mate...We had so much love for each other
But alcohol was Ian's demon and it took over in the end...
Ian and I loved each other very much... It was a very passionate relationship...
I felt helpless and alone as I tried to help him quit his drinking...
It took a long time for me to realise that I could not help him. He needed to help himself...

In the end I could not watch him self destruct any longer. After three years I filed for a divorce...
We still loved each other very much; I never stopped loving him.

After me he found another love and he had a little son with her...

Ian passed away from cancer last year...

I miss him...

Repair Manual for a Broken Heart by Neal Vaughan

2007-08-22T21:18:00.000-07:00

Hidden by Neal Vaughan

2007-08-15T18:48:00.000-07:00

must it be,
must it be left to its own device
must it be felt not said
must it be hidden, some kind of vice
must it be thought not read
must it be afraid of the light
must it be always unsaid
it must be love my love

by Barbara Cochrane Bruce

2007-08-09T00:39:00.000-07:00

long stare by Dina

2007-08-06T19:57:00.000-07:00

long stare
deep breath
aching hearts
no words

you and me
empty room
burning candle
and silence

love – just a word
kiss – senseless touch
eyes – full of tears
souls – torn apart

not another fight
no words left
not another hug
emotions fled

not a single kiss
feelings used up
the break up –
all that is left

The King Stag by Anon

2007-08-06T19:54:00.000-07:00

This means home.

Your imprint.

My fingertips tapping

Brail songs along

Your spine.

You sleep in me.

I take my rest

In you.

We plug each other in and

It all plays

12 volumes higher.

One breath in and four out.

No looking glass.

We dive into bottles with

The same

Velocity.

I run.

You match.

Just open windows.

All oxygen.

And acorns.

And light bulbs.

And growing antlers.

And whizzing bubbles of

Yes.

One a day by Micheal A Bevan

2007-07-10T19:08:00.000-07:00

Fear is nothing to those who fear all

making sense of anything is senseless

a bird flys solo to fly with others

thoughts are all that they can be with no will

pain is hunger with the right motive

by Paul Redmond

2007-07-03T23:50:00.000-07:00

Seven Hundred Days by Oliver

2007-07-01T23:58:00.000-07:00

Never one for fate but it crossed my mind
The day that she found me
She wrapped me in a dizzying love-is-blind
And we sailed across the sea

Halcyon days make for giddy heights
She was the quicken in my step
But something must have happened because I took to flight
And I broke her heart and left

And now she barely even knows me, but she don’t mind at all
Falling into lonely, I just fall and fall and fall

I fled back home with the storm at my back
To the life I thought I knew
But all I ever did was miss her smile
More than I ever guessed I’d do

I shouted to the world that I’d make it right
But an echo’s a lonely thing
Cause all an echo means is you’re underground,
Seven hundred days begin

And now she barely even knows me, but she don’t mind at all
Falling into lonely, I just fall and fall and fall

So I surrendered myself to the underground
Like a bull in a Cretian maze
Cause when it’s that dark that you can’t be found
You don’t think of halcyon days

No starling’s song, no summer sounds
And I wandered deep in shade
Seven hundred days in the underground
To weigh the choices that I’d made

And now she barely even knows me, but she don’t mind at all
Falling into lonely, I just fall and fall and fall

She brought me to the surface on a starless eve
She said hush your restless dreams
Pull yourself together baby find your fire
And her eyes they sparkled green

Standing on the deck bound for northern seas
Yeah I’m nervous but I’m on my way
Seven more sleeps to put my heart at ease
To find the words I need to say

Baby get to know me, with you I want to grow old
And we shall not be lonely, and you shall not be cold
As now you stand before me, I will not let you down
With you here beside me, never again underground.

One Half by Biba

2007-06-21T18:54:00.000-07:00

As I sit here watching you go
I know you’ll always be near
But I feel like, if you can’t see me
I may not even be here

Don’t stay away too long my friend
Your love is needed from fear

BitterSweet by Frog

2007-06-19T00:32:00.001-07:00

For Dylan with Love

2007-06-18T21:53:00.000-07:00

This is a photo of my 16 month old nephew Dylan, who I haven’t seen since he was a few weeks old. When I wake at 2am alone in the darkness on the opposite side of the world, it’s not my career or social life that I think about, it’s my family and friends.

This photo and everyone that it embodies are love to me. In the eyes of a child I see what really matters.

I don't want to miss out on anymore first steps or last words.

......I'm choosing home

by Alain de Botton

2007-06-11T16:38:00.000-07:00

When I started writing books at the age of 23, I often thought of Philip Roth's remark, made in answer to a question of why he had chosen his particular profession, that he had become a writer 'in order to meet girls.'

I wasn't meeting too many girls, and it was in part in response to this absence that I was inspired to write. Writing is - after all - the best way to fill in the gap and to imagine alternatives.

My first book was called Essays in Love. It was published when I was 24 and living on my own,rather unhappily. Years passed, there was more loneliness, then finally, aged 31, I met the woman who is now my wife.

Three years after that, the publisher of Essays in Love came to me and said they wanted to give my book a new jacket. Did I have any ideas? I suggested that they take a picture of my wife, the person whose absence had prompted the book in the first place. So Charlotte duly went to a library to be photographed reading a book - and the resulting image is what you see on the cover.
Love came full circle.

by Jaime Lord

2007-05-24T17:38:00.000-07:00

These days the word "love" seems to be thrown around almost haphazardly, a simple reflex rather than the verbalization of true feelings.

As a result I feel like it has lost its essence and consequently its impact. It has become mere letters and robotic performances of scripted romance. We are almost numb to love in the traditional sense, thus it has been forced to evolve, to regain its endearing subtleties and ability to stir within us sensations that remind us of our human condition.

Too often we attempt to label and define things with the purpose of gaining some sort of control. Love cannot be controlled. It is in the attempt that we lose the essence.

Like picking a beautiful flower with the intention of keeping it forever, it will wither and lose what initially attracted us to it. It takes courage to leave the flower and appreciate it in its own right without desiring to possess it.

Vous êtes la source de lumière pour moi by Reg

2007-05-22T00:35:00.000-07:00

Once...

An old man stopped us on a street in Dublin.

He said to us “stay in love forever...”

I did...but now she’s gone

My Amazing Mother by Donal Byrne

2007-05-21T16:42:00.000-07:00

We have lived together, for many a year,
Through joyful laugh, and sorrowful tear,
In times of pain, and times of joy,
From me being a man, and from being a boy,
But when I look back at who I am,
I know I’m me, because of you Mam.

Untitled by Anon

2007-05-20T23:20:00.000-07:00

The loon by Anurag Chakradhar

2007-05-16T22:37:00.000-07:00

When there is sun to be filled by the everyday of the day
When I should be thankful for the warmth of every little ray
When there is moon to be consumed by the lightlessness of the night
When I should be grateful just to stare at the beautiful distant white

I go and tell the big bright one to stop shining so bright
I go and tell the cool white one to stop being so white

The sun looks over his shoulder and says to the moon
Mate, are we wasting our love on another crazy loon?

The Sun by Fi Byrne

2007-05-13T18:51:00.000-07:00

My heart beats to the sound of a melancholic tune,
a broken reverie encased inside a tomb.
Like a cancer you’ve consumed me,
my thoughts my hopes and dreams
addicted to a poison my soul cannot relieve.
I plead for darkness to come, but how do you turn off the sun?

Weak and diluted, the fight punched from my veins,
i know I should surrender, but hope won’t let me fall.
Kiss me with merciful lips and I can willingly give my respect,
you torture and taunt me with a love I’ll never get.
I plead for darkness to come, but how do you turn off the sun?

Your arms envelope me with loneliness,
yet your touch is what I crave.
I long to be held, for another start,
but how can you offer a broken heart?.
I’m pleading for darkness to come, but how do you turn off the sun?

Love is a lesson that’s daunting to learn,
with no equations or rules to help us discern.
A lesson is learned but no-one has won.
You can’t stop the world turning and you can’t turn off the sun.

My view of love by Awareness

2007-05-13T18:26:00.000-07:00

An economy of love.
Forever in its debt.
We try so hard to find it,
yet it’s grasp slips our hand.
It’s more than just a feeling.
It’s more than a holding hand.
Most importantly. Love is never dead.

Drowning in Love by Fi Byrne

2007-05-10T17:41:00.000-07:00

Unlovable by Fi Byrne

2007-05-10T17:36:00.000-07:00

Sometimes....

I think i missed my chance.