Ayyy wonda youre an Alien

Introducing Mr.Wondz, one of the dopest up and coming producers on the UK urban music scence, had the pleasure of creating this mural style peice. Based on his indentity and his energy , mr wonds is a colorful creative, but i find a lot of his work to be more than what just hits the surface. I wanted to create a painting that demanded a second look for the producers whos beats demand a second listen!

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heres a track he produced for grime artist cadet in 2015 called ‘slut’

its like a jungle sometimes

This is what the inside of my head looks like at any given moment haha

Ive been circulating this painting on social media asking people what animals they can see… the elephant seems to be the hardest one to find…test your third eye vision and try and find that elephant! IMG_20171207_195958

Buried alive 

‘Buried alive’ 

Feelings that had blossomed into something beautiful, thrown back into the undergrowth, like a beam of  light sucked into a black hole. I couldn’t see the picture, you couldn’t play the roll… So we fought what felt right, and turned dawn back into night. We buried our emotions… a thought that has left me terrified. because I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure I burried mine alive…and that is such a cruel thing to do, to anything at all…

le abre de vie

The exact same concept with a different meduim, and colour scheme on a much larger scale…. A fair reflection of my spirtual and artictic growth (no pun inteded lol) in my opinion.

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l’abre de vie

 

 

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l’abre de vie

Lost at sea 

Lost at sea, where I can find myself;  

Soaking, in hope; tired, from riding the tides of life’s ocean. Floating, from coast to coast with nothing to boast of; bar the treasures of truth. Navigating my thoughts through, future mist, towards something new. Blue, when I look back on ships that sailed past. Lost, for all that’s here to see is my eerie reflection, drifting. I find myself sifting through ship wrecks left behind. Diving too deep, yet somehow washed up on freedoms shoreline… Im tired, and I’m lost, but I’m doing just fine… 

Sinai 

    The preacher begins to speak of peace, as the quire grows quiet. The sermon was yearning to learn, the demons were burning in the urns of those earning. 

The spirit however, did not desert the undeserving. Every soul within the temple could feel a tide turning, in a baptism of realism. Manifested true, through a catalogue of material cataclysms. Each eye saw the same Visions of the Schism.
The walls began to burn, unconcerned by who was what, or who wasn’t  with sin. The temple began combusting, like a furnace, yet not even a single Scream scratched the surface; 

The preacher was now looking increasingly nervous. Pushing his faith desperate to see the purpose, of the torture that he had used to torch the tortious…

Wealth had now become worthless; to all the snowy Saints in their burning churches. That now claimed to know of holy verses, yet could not recall their saviours birthplace; 
The quire so inspired that they sang through the fire, until the entire procession sought out a new professions. 
Like the holy smoke that filled their lungs and stained the air. They where there, yet everywhere. A heavy cross to bare, till they were near, their last breath…

A church full of New desciples that wrote divergent bibles, as they stifled, walking through the fiery shadow of death…

Pegasus 

one of the best known creatures in Greek mythology. He is a winged divine stallion usually depicted as pure white in color, Pegasus is a symbol for the divine, and in my opinion so are the zebra, their stripes represent a balance between light and dark. Balance, as opposed to purity, to me,  is a more accurate representation of divinity.

Hunter 

  

They came like ants swarming the school,

Guns blazing, voices raised to decibels I could only assume

My time was up.

Lined against the wall, everyday tasks now twisted

Teachers pinned against the black board 

Red chalk newly scripted

Self fulfilling prophecy eyes now at the back of the head.

Some, could no longer see a head.
Another dead lesson, everyday tasks now twisted…

Mathematics, as I panicked, trying to sum up the time I existed 

History lessons, my life flashed before my eyes. 
Terror from fellow pupils followed the flashes across my pupils. reflecting, thinking, life is but a lesson… over the hellish harmony of scared screams still singing, I could just about make out the sounds of the school bells ringing… 

Co written by: https://soromtbte.wordpress.com

Concentric 

 

The ‘hows?’ are locked down in the basement, the ‘whys?’ are trapped up in the attic.

The truth is often several stories too high, or too low, to be of any use, to us…white lies are just, easier to trust 

We strive to see, our perspective rise, with our pasts disguised as now, looking for the wise with know-how 

For every waking minute, we see, the ego diminishes, what we analyse… within our minds , we realize,  eyes were never that precise.

As we visualize and manifest our goals, the ‘why?’ is the cause, the ‘how?’ is the reaction, governing our laws of attraction. A dispondent correspondence, that vibrates even the greatest of pagans…

In the maddening mystery, that is the architecture of our surreal reality,  it is from the ‘whys?’ we derive true satisfaction, the ‘hows?’ are but beautiful distractions.

Perched in the dark, like the old owl, The whys make us wiser, the hows make us howl. We take flight into the untold night… The wise always find out how, by asking why