MOKI MIOKE’S Art

Art & Culture

“Nature itself is art and is the most beautiful thing you can create.” Moki Mioke

German / Japanese artist Moki Mioke works with various styles and techniques: Surreal paintings, comics, animation, and performance figures. Her acrylic paintings are inspired by Japanese anime of Hayao Miyazaki, as well as beautiful landscapes. Moki Mioke believes that nature itself is one of the most beautiful artistic creations we have.
The fancy of the painter are a feast that serves the five senses. The characters in her paintings blend with nature as if becoming an intrinsic part of it, her art satisfies our basic instinct in the deep desire to be ‘one’ with our planet. In the world of Moki, nature surpasses human beings, but with kindness and affection. Thus the artist distorts reality with a touch of mystic.
 MOKi MIOKE’s Art 

“La naturaleza en si es arte y es lo más hermoso que se puede crear.” Moki Mioke

La artista alemana / japonesa Moki Mioke trabaja con varios estilos y técnicas: pinturas surrealista, comics, animación y performance. Sus pinturas acrílicas se inspiran en el anime japonés de Hayao Miyazaki, así como en hermosos paisajes naturales. Las fantasías de la pintora son un festín que sirve a los cinco sentidos. Los personajes en sus cuadros se mezclan con la naturaleza como si convertirse en una parte intrínseca de la misma, su arte satisface nuestro instinto básico en el deseo profundo de ser ‘uno’ con nuestro planeta. En el mundo de Moki, la naturaleza sobre pasa al ser humano, pero con dulzura y cariño. De este modo la artista distorsiona la realidad, con un su toque de místico. Cuando el arte afecta a la realidad se crea una nueva realidad.

Mystic Dream in Preproduction (Press Release)

Films
Sylvia Love Johnson Looks to Raise Funds Through Kickstarter for Her Film Mystic Dream (via SBWire)

Mystic dream is a feature film based on a novel, about the power of love, a greater source for conquering the dreams of humanity, the eternal paradise. London, UK — (SBWIRE) — 04/22/2013 — This project is to fund a feature film based on “Selene Hekate Mystic Dream”, a Novel by Sylvia L.Johnson.…

Selene Hekate, Mystic Dream…

Books, Films, indie film services

Dream

I woke up from a dream in which there was only  Selene and darkness.

Her hair felt like silk caressing my skin, her red cheeks, warm, illuminating, filling the emptiness within.  Her  green eyes glowing intensely,  resembling bright emerald stars in the night. She blended in the shallowness of my dwelling place,  where I have lived  suspended in time for almost 10 years, existing; my chaotic flat  is the true representation of my mind.  It  perpetuates an intense and tormenting scent of jasmine blossom.

Once it was my favourite fragrance,  now it is impregnated on the walls,  impersonating the essence of my living,  from the a day I smashed  the perfume bottle  against the mirror. Irritation, impatience, infuriation and rage often  my true and  most faithful companions, and my comfortable, indulgent solitude . The  vexation deep in the heart and the longing, always the longing.  It’s hard to explain, the longing for someone or something that you miss, but  was never there.

Sometimes I picture myself running away from my head, determinedly fleeing from my thoughts. The reality is that there are memories one cannot scape,  nor forget, because the story I’m about to tell, I tell it not because I want to tell , but because I must, the story imprisoned, unjustly within our heads and hearts screams ever so loudly, now more than ever to be let out…

 

I heard her whispering my name.

Her laughter echoed in the dark; she woke me up.

Her breath caressed my senses,  her face was directly above me, her eyes staring into my soul, piercing.

The deliciously disturbing  and unexpected visit from my best friend made it impossible to go back to sleep, it was 4 o’clock in the morning,

Selene come back… I begged in the mists of a million thoughts and questions all mixed with fear, excitement and anxiety.

It was her ghost! was it not?  Selene is dead, or at least, she is not fully alive, has she just died? I will call her mother tomorrow to find out… I will call her mother tomorrow…

I repeated in my head, knowing there was not way that affirmation was going to get acted upon, the thought of it made me shiver..

Whenever I am under stress or in a bewildering and hostile situation, I feel instinctively drawn to water.  I also feel instinctively drawn to water when I’m happy and excited,  when I feel lonely or depressed, afraid or insecure. I do feel  drawn to water in any and may situations as a matter of fact.  I strongly believe that in another life I was a fish.

I made a bubble bath infusing it with lavender and rose petals, I sat on my bathtub; letting  my mind go,  thoughtless. Normally,  the middle of the night is the time when all my senses at their highest sensory vibrations.

I desired to feel Selene’s presence once again. I breathed in the fumes that emerged with the rich vapours of natural essence  and focused my eyes on the flame of the candle, it glowed soft and golden. I always rebuke myself, I know what fire can bring, but this time I wanted to let it in.

When I close my eyes after staring at fire my inner vision projects dazzling sparks of light flashing.

A while ago I decided to deny the manifestation of anything that reminds me of the magical unknown forces, paranormal occurrences, parallel pathways,  the art of wishing and desiring, love in its truest form,  all these practices and activities which I became so deeply acquainted with, during my childhood.

I plunge into the water with my eyes close, when  I open them still submerged; Selene’s ghostly figure reappears and assumes what seems an impossible posture above me.  She fits perfectly in the bath, hovering under  the water; her nose touching mine.  She flashes a mischievous grin and then she vanishes again, like the mist in the forest at dawn. I gasp, open  my mouth oblivious to the water, yelling…

Don’t go!

My childhood screams at me. Selene’s ghost leaves me in reveries which toke the form of unwanted thoughts; memories threatening to break the strict silence that they had kept in during many years….

Continue reading the preview 

 

Sylvia Johnson

(Extract)

He gave her the smile of a life time, with a stabbing glare to die for, but she, shyly, turned her eyes away from his wooing gesture, thus totally blocking future intention of pursuing any trace of romance, intimacy or love. She sworn to herself that, next time they crossed each other’s path in Avenue Pierre Loti, or any other street within their neighbourhood; she would serve him with the best of her smirks and spice it up with gaze that would certainly invite thoughts of passionate affairs, licit and indecent. She remembers this and sighs deeply, hopelessly; destiny has not yet given her the long awaited for “next time”. I wish he was a made up character, in one of my stories and I wish she was one of my tough and brave heroines, who goes through a vast amount trouble and turmoil during most of her life but in the end she gets all she wants or at least all she needs. Unfortunately he is a real man, by the name of Jean Baptiste, and she is me.But this story started long ago. The first time I had to confront desolated loving feelings. “You are not mature for love” Said Selene, The words felt like a dagger launched at my heart, or a sharp double edge sword, piercing my soul. All these years, painful as it is, I have allowed those words to remain nailed where she left them. I know that if I try to pull them out; my heart would most certainly disintegrate. It is save to leave the truth resting there, were it belongs. On that sunny day Selene and I were having a conversation about Alan Dreamt, the boy I was in love with throughout school my school years;  A. Dreamt was my very first emotional disaster. I chattered on about how I knew we were meant to be, but neither of us would do anything about it. I was nervous, my hands sweating, my mouth dry, feeling hopeless and totally terrified by the thunder storm of sensations that had invaded me.

 Selene had not said a word for a while, she listened . Love…. I heard her say from my state of wishful thinking, in reveries, then, she looked at and conjured the spell…

“Love from above shine here below Love of soul let her be whole Love in spirit be empty of all Love infinite be he adored Let love on earth be poured Let fear in her soul flee its hold May the Joy of love never be here untold”  The scent of sweet magic became visible in the form rose fragranced sparkles of light. I felt a sudden breeze, my knees trembled. A torrent of tears manifested pouring down my face. I could not explain the fear that so passionately swamped me. “You are not mature for love.” She threw this at me like it was a towel to dry my tears with.

“True love is the ultimate manifestation of God’s purpose for creating you. True love is the bond between two souls which were meant to be one, yet they split at the beginning of time so that in the search for each other they would learn the meaning of love, as it unfolds, for it is God’s will that we learn that we are love.

The bond of true love signifies God’s perfection and it is the fulfilment of the law. It is the blessing we are born to be”