Holly Harford


Holly Anne Harford. A very tall, punk rock newt hoenikker. Just a babychild creative trying to make some type of art and testing out forms of expression.

From Western Australia

@thisisnotHolly

adventure-and-drawings asked:
What's the difference between this blog and isitbatman?

This blog is my creative portfolio that only has my original work, the sort of thing I could present professionally. While isitbatman is my personal tumblr of reblogs and selfies and casual interaction :)

Unique Monoprint Series - April 2014 

Aug. 27 2014 - Light and Exposure Portraits 

Aug. 27 2014 - self portrait 

Two headed boy
All floating in glass
The sun it has passed 
Now it’s blacker than black
I can hear as you tap on your jar
I am listening to hear where you are

USA 2014 - Travel Montage 

Scales. 

Ramshackle Glory, Endless Mike and the Beagle Club, Human Kitten, Speaker For The Dead @ 2640 Church Space, Baltimore - 5/7/14

Broken World Media Showcase 2014 @ The Place Bar and Lounge 3rd July

with For Everest, Soda Bomb, Makeshift Shelters, David F. Bello and People Like You

"

I was born in a house on fire,
flame like a hand on my mothers throat.
A distaste of ash is left in my mouth
the dust on the wings on moths
pretending, to be butterflies.
The monarchs rise when I meet a man,
they stand to take a knee and bow-
a patriarchal kaleidoscope, swarm or rabble
manifesting itself as bile.

They say that a sensual touch is like a spark,
and man, in me does it start a forrest fire.
Wings beat free from the chrysalises made
by the caterpillars forced down my throat as a child
as they hid from the burning walls.

I don’t know if I can take another cocoon,
my stomach grows hard with string
spun out of copper wire caressing
with it’s sharp points and mutilating scars.

A two year old screaming as flames lick,
she doesn’t know that the world is ablaze.

"
Holly Anne Harford

The smell of the washing power on my jeans
Is the smell it was when I last kissed you
The sun was burning and cooking me here
And now it’s getting cool again and so am I.
It smells like a thousand years ago,
Like a whole ocean and like spice with a hint of vanilla.
Next time I wash these ill rinse away yet another memory of you
Another thing that pulls your smile to my mind,
And one day they’re won’t be anything there at all.