Spreading the dA Love: Volume 13

May 1, 201226 min read

Deviation Actions

Quolia

Published: May 1, 2012

3.8K Views

As the title suggests, this news article series aim to promote wonderful aspects of the deviantART community, from showcasing beautiful works of art, to informing you of great groups, and to interviewing inspirational deviants. I feel so happy being part of such a wonderful community and I hope to make it better, even if it's only a little bit, by making these articles. My goal is to bring to light everything that impassions me and, hopefully, inspire you!

=======================================================

Showcasing Gorgeous Artwork

=======================================================

_{A showcase of art that has simply left me speechless from all genres, from digital/traditional, artisan, emoticons, fractals, etc.}

:thumb296240531: :thumb298494071:

:thumb298223100:

1:12 Scale Hunger Games Feast by fairchildart

Strawberry cream puffs with chocolate sauce by kupenska

:thumb296139012:

:thumb292120968:

=======================================================

Showcasing Wonderful Photography

=======================================================

_{A showcase of photographs that have left me in awe from all genres, from nature, macro, fashion, conceptual, abstract, etc.}

:thumb299073846:

:thumb293931655:

:thumb297222123:

:thumb294450325:

=======================================================

Showcasing Lovely Literature

=======================================================

_{A showcase of literature that has motivated & moved me from all genres, from prose, poetry, flash fiction, short stores, etc.}

Let the Sparrows InI.
Blackbirds rest on the power lines,
their silhouettes form the notation
to a dawn song set on the sheet music
of telephone poles contrasted by the sun.
Curled leaves are land mines littered
on the lawn where imprints of twigs
and a nurturing robin's tracks collect.
Branchlets and leaflets stem from
porch step railings and mailboxes;
the numbers read odd on the east,
even on the west side of the asphalt:
seven-seven-thirty-six.
The engraved letters on
the siding reads, "Davis."
This house is home to family
so let the sparrows in.
The house,
with its branching hallways
and
overhanging décor
and
furniture rooted to the floor
is home
to
family, friends, the occasional
neighbor's kid
locked
out from home.
Let the sparrows in; let
the finches
follow.
Let the door's
deadbolt
loosen—let the door stand ajar
and
be let open
to
the night owls and
morning
larks;
let the doves
alone
to pirouette
in pairs in the iridescent
quiet.
Let the sparrows in.
II.
Framed on either side Twin CoresI cry like I always do,
even though you flurry around my crooked
smile as if you're in a parade.
Placing my hat on your head you
prance away, naughty with mischief and
innocence.
The grubs you toss flutter away
as butterflies before me;
I suppose this is the passage of time.
My sweet gentleman, though
you dry up all my tears
you can't efface their gulches.
The vapor flies off my tongue at
sharp points that slice at your essence.
My cringes are all that keep you young.
You ride me through life,
a captain to calm the cascades of joy
and love that threaten to crumble inside.
Now I'm older than you by many times,
although still seduced by that lovely smile.
The truth can be so difficult to swallow.
Those butterflies return, wings torn and battered.
Enter my throat, where their legs of sapphire dynamite
prod and scrape up my slackened jaw.
Wisdom has come at the end when
it's far too late to make amends.
'You will never return home', I wish I'd said.
Finally washed and sudsed,
we collided a

Fifty-Three DaysI remember the day we dug our graves,
In which, we'd spend those fifty-three days
Surrounded by those who wished us harm
High up on that barren hill lacking in charm
We dug them two feet deep,
Six feet wide,
In which we could safely sleep,
And from bullets hide
During the day temperatures soared
Our skin would blister when bare skin touched rock
At night it drastically dropped
And we returned to our shallow graves
All except one, who wearily gazes
Down on the green valley below
Where we sometimes tread, but fear to go
Monotony ate at us day after day
A lull had come, our cares went away
And then with a patience, that I've seldom found
The enemy laid something deadly in the ground
Where we went to wash our clothes
You can guess where this story goes
My dear friend lost his legs
Yet, they would never directly engage
Next came the sniper fire
Hidden in dense brush, and harassing us with constant misfire
But eventually he hit a friend of mine
The bullet entered at the bottom of his spine
I The RedWanton shreds of commissar,
come take away the filth.
Fill my brain with what I need,
never too late to change.
Channels, speak the only words
worth playing, repetition non sanctum.
Saving nothing for below,
before, or beneath the glorious
glare of sallow sunshine, we
weep for reality's trust.
Try, and fail
Fall, and stay
Strive, and die
Dinner at the banquet of commons,
Commiserate our want.

a long awaited return.It was raining when we landed.
A shock
to our sun-drenched systems,
stumbling with snatched-
away sleep.
Another bus, another train
whirring upon endless tracks.
We run, we flee through foreign streets –
disdainful eyes stare on,
watching fugitive
outsiders -
desperate for a taste
of home. The SuitcaseThe sunlight turned the chapel windows white.
The cemetery was rankly overgrown,
Thick vines had covered nearly every stone;
Dense leaves of ivy shimmered in the light.
Thin cracks of age were trying to rewrite
Each epitaph.  The honey-sounding drone
Of engorged flies had soon become the lone
Sound in the afternoon.  Then I caught sight
Behind a tombstone of a stained suitcase;
It leaned against the grave, quite unforgiving.
Red canvas, ordinary enough.  No trace
Of rubbish near it, just a small misgiving
At how I am so ready to embrace
That such a place is home to someone living. :thumb289463204:

State of MindThey buried her today.
I stood in the crowd, all of us dressed in blacks. I straightened my tie nervously as ladies I didn't know in big, veiled hats exchanged soft, sad words about what a shame it was. How she'd been so brilliant, how she'd had such a full life ahead of her. Ladies that didn't even know her.
There was a coffin, but there wasn't much in it. They didn't open the casket either, like they did sometimes. The man at the funeral home had said there was a limit to how much they could make fit for viewing, and I didn't really blame him for not even trying.
"This sucks," Cindy told me. We were sat at one of the cheap metal tables they roll out for occasions like this, both of us with a glass of alcohol in our hands. I hadn't asked if it was wine or something else. Didn't care.
"Yeah," I agreed, tone muted. We exchanged a look, Cindy's eyes heavy and ringed, her face lined in stress like a mirror of my own. Together, we drank. It was white wine, dry, about a 4. She would have li Pretty SwallowPretty swallow, will you fly?
Spread your wings to reach the sky
Will you soar above this smog?
The lights will lead you from the fog
Pretty swallow, will you sing?
Happiness your melodies bring
Will you entrance with a tune?
When the sun hits high noon
Pretty swallow, will you fight?
As the stars lose their light
Will you leave your city fair?
When the kites fly nowhere
Pretty swallow, will you fall?
You're the hope of us all
Will you keep our dreams on clouds?
If we can't speak them aloud
Pretty swallow, will you fly?
Spread your wings and say goodbye. A MythDaphne.
My muse. My love. If only she had given me a second thought, if only she had known how much she stung me with each blank stare, each averted gaze. Have you ever been completely, hopelessly sucked down into the depths of infatuation? I could do nothing but pursue. She was beautiful, of course, but that wasn't what pulled me so--she was wild. Not wild in the usual sense, wild as in animalistic, a creature of the natural world. She was independent. She was self-sufficient. She didn't need me. But oh, I needed her. So I gave chase. As the hunter pursues his quarry, I courted her fervently, feverishly, obsessively. I was turned away, rejected, more violently each time, but I returned for more, a glutton for the punishment that meant her anger that meant the only emotional connection I could get from Daphne. It didn't matter what emotion it was, as long as she noticed me. Then, it stopped. I would leave message after message on her machine, send email after email, but nothing. It was

PirateHe wanted to be a pirate -
a rogue of waves and plankton
and teakwood decks
that smarted under the sharp rap
of stars streaming off the bow.
He longed to feel rum
cut the back of his throat
and hoist the skull and crossbones
over a ship so far gone
the horizon would never find it.
He wanted to chart winds
that warmed the equator
and let the anchor
carry off the ballast
in the boatswain's burly arms;
to watch gold
cover his hands to the elbows
and sink his lash
into the belly of the storm.
And know the beauty of his enemy
come calling late at night. lonely phantoms.Bright blue seas, rippling
with life. Fluid dances under a glaring sun
that grows dull
to me, and slowly
falls to the
fishes.
Warm night,
stale night – breathing
stale air. I enter your dreams:
you sleep alone as I.
Gentle stroke -
Fingers float across your peaceful face,
the phantom skin of stoic limbs,
each aspect still, suspended in
time.
Your pulse cries
out as
lips meet lips, and
I am
whisked
away. (it's) twistedtwist twist twist
the wire doesn't show enough;
skin is syrup, let it drip away
hold, stretch and tighten-
blossom is floating in the spring storm
licking and sticking like moths on our skin
when wings swirling wind upwards
inflate clothes like our bodies should
we fight to lose before we see ourselves 'win'

=======================================================

Showcasing Fun Groups

=======================================================

_{Here I will inform you of cool groups I have come across or have been recommended to that I feel need some more exposure.}

"Our group is all about visual artists inspiring writers and written work inspiring visual artists, all here on dA."

_{Suggested by LadyofGaerdon}

=======================================================

Suggested DDs

=======================================================

_{A selection of DDs I have suggested this month and any that have been accepted.}

:thumb295718695:

The Starry Night /Emote Version by spring-sky

Awarded DD on: 4-27-2012

=======================================================

Interview: bradleysays

=======================================================

_{Here I will interview an inspirational deviant I have picked or one suggested to me.}

• Name/Nickname? •

Bradley. Some people call me Kandii, and you can blame =BlissfullySarcastic on that. <3

• The story behind your username? •

Back when I registered, I was really into the game: Star Ocean: The Last Hope. That was basically it.

So I typed it into the username bar "The-Last-Hope". Username taken. "TheLastHope". Username taken. So I tried "The--Last--Hope", and there you go.

• Tell us about yourself: •

Even though I ask this question in my interviews, I never thought about what I would say when someone asked me. And my interviewees are right, it is a tough question! I'll keep it short and sweet.

Well, I'm 18 year old uni student and I love Lady Gaga.

• How did you discover deviantART? •

I first discovered deviantART by a friend begging me to join. I originally signed up as ~RandomTwin back in 2008. At the very beginning of 2010, I decided I needed a fresh start and made another account, =The--Last--Hope.

When I first joined devianART, I really wasn’t that into it. It was a strange place for me, I didn’t really know what to do or who to talk to, I was an unknown artist. But only when I joined under this account, I actually got into it; I love the community here. I've also received four Daily Deviations, which is something to be proud of.

• Specializes In: •

dA Related. In my time I've created Stamps, IDs, journal skins, deviantART Suggestions and Tutorials. I don't really consider myself an artist, I'm more community orientated.

• Your Personal Favorite(s) From Your Gallery: •

• Favorite Inspirational Deviant: •

^namenotrequired. He's my main inspiration, as a community rockstar as well as a Community Volunteer.

• What are your favorite aspects of deviantART? •

The community by far. It's like having another (and much larger) family, and I'm really grateful to have some really great friends on dA. I cherish you all.

• Where do you draw your inspiration from? •

That's a tough question, because it all depends on what I'm doing. If I'm making stamps I'm inspired by deviants like `ClefairyKid; if I'm running community things I'm more than likely inspired by the [community] rockstars.

When it comes to making visual suggestions though, I think my main inspiration is the lack of that feature.

I only really come up with suggestions when I'm doing something and think, "Hey, what if it were like this?" or "This could be improved by..".

• How do you strive to further improve your work? •

Just keep practising!

• Do you have any advice to fellow aspiring artists? •

I'll just leave you a few quotes to inspire you:

"Ignore all hatred and criticism. Live for what you create, and die protecting it."

"You have to be unique, and different, and shine in your own way."

"If you dont have any shadows you're not in the light"

These were all said by `LadyGaga.

• MORE FROM THE ARTIST •

:thumb281605136:

=======================================================

Thank you for taking the time to read this article!

Please make sure to the article to help spread the DA love

_{If you have any art/groups you would like me to showcase or a deviant you would like to be interviewed, please note me. Or, leave a comment with your suggestions in this journal, Suggestions for Interviews & Spotlight Artist. Thank you!}