Ink on Watercolor Artworks by ryzoncity.
ink on watercolor 11in x 15in ink on water color 11in x 15in ink on water color 11in x 15in ink on water color 11in x 15in ink on water color 24in x 18in ink on water color 24in x 18in ink on water color 24in x 18in ink on water color 24in x 18in ink on water color 24in x 18in ink on water color 24in x 18in
About Imuzi Ryzoncity Thompson
Out of the darkness one easily drowns in, I’ve recognized the “Organic Control.” Most times I am presented with a wide white watercolor paper in a very light crème or off-white colored room, as if I am in solitary confinement (self-inflicted).
Here, I occasionally ask the paper “What would you like to become?” As I place ink on the paper or the initial graphite construction lines, it starts to dictate to me it’s likeness and it’s desires to be formed; as this continues, I force my will into its creation and we battle back-&-forth until the end. My therapy,
I often become lost in the individual stories that presents themselves at the conclusion of each artwork, I find myself staring, lost in most as I wander off into its universal origins. I have been doing this since I was a child, as far as I can remember I’ve been creating. It started with my two imaginary friends when I was 2yrs then wire-men when I became 3yrs, made from color-coated telephone wires.
I continued this practice for many years, creating my own toys and my own movies with these characters. My dreams kept me up at night as back then I couldn’t handle varying thoughts; especially those so contradictory to reality. Extremely gorgeous women with large penises, very old women raping me, men morphing together with other men and symbols that had no meaning in reality but was so scary I used to wish I would die before I fall asleep just, so they could stop dancing beneath my eyes. I could go on… but when I became 8yrs everything changed, in the physical world and in my dream worlds. It was a very dark period of my life and looking back now as I write this I realized my brain must’ve developed these new dreams to help me cope with reality. As a child I was very aware of people’s feelings especially my mothers, she made us laugh during a long summer of hunger when we had nothing to eat but bitter mustard leaves we found outside in the yard growing wild (with salt) and she made us cry as she whooped us for being rude to each other or other disobediences towards her strict commands.
There is much more to these times I now remember; but even so, my dreams took me away from the harshness of our reality. When I was eight years old I dreamt that I will become the purity that stood in the midst of garbage. I woke up crying, that was the first and last time I cried out in my dream and still cried after as if I was in serious pain, my head was on fire from an emotional turmoil I could not discern the source of. From that day I only had dreams of the future but not a significantly distant future but one that was nearing, one that was specific to a place, an environment. I’ve startled my friends before predicted the countenance of a place without going there and when we arrived it was exactly as I described it. I would like for people to either eat my art or throw it in the garbage of their mind, rather than to taste it, have a sip of it and then scroll. I’ve come too far; disregarding my social life, my family and even jobs just to express myself and then to have someone merely glance is the outmost disrespect I feel. One day I won’t sell my pieces but collect them for myself, ‘My Religious Recordings of My Therapy Sessions.’ To have my cake and eat it too is exactly what I really want to do. I don’t create for others as much as I help the art to create itself. When I die people will read this and maybe then I will be discovered too, or I just won’t ever be. Either way, I am so happy this art chose me. “there’s always more… Eccentric Artistry.” – ryzoncity :)