(._.)
Just became a deviantART subscriber + beta tester! Hoorah!
Also submitted an old tutorial, not all that exciting. Am checking out new features currently...4p a day is damned cheap!
The Door.Victor coughed and growled as he weaved in and out of the concrete giants of Chicago city. His boots pounded across the ground; faster and faster as his assailant grew nearer. The spiteful rain hammered all around like never-ending bullets, and the eerie moonlight fought its way through the choking fog. Running deeper into the hopeless labyrinth, Victor sacrificed one precious moment to look over his shoulder, and his eyes widened with fear at the mysterious silhouette. The hooded stranger swept along the alley, his long, fluid coat trailing behind him. The man’s ghost-like movement mystified Victor, but without more hesitation he started toThe Door.
Something in his eyes...The deal was perfect, Sound and secure. Checked countless times, No loopholes -- to be sure.Something in his eyes...
I scanned the large room, All expressions, reserved. Most faces showed confidence, Below the surface – unnerved.
The man opposite me, Wrapped in dark cloak. Breathed in and looked around, Thoughts gathered, before he spoke…
Then briefly our gazes met – I was filled with wonder, then surprise! A window into his soul, I’d found, It was something in his eyes!
For that moment I knew. I could see thorough
Possibly UnfinishedTired regressions into future states yield the unknown to the forefront of the mind's canvas.Possibly Unfinished
We were only children when it began, our fingers dipping into random buckets of life to spread across the blank unknown.
What a mess we made of ourselves: our minds cluttered with colors and unfocused photographs of things we were told to remember.
It doesn't matter what mistakes were made in the painting; it doesn't matter how late we stayed awake thinking that we could have done it better.
It's done and it's ours: all of the s
'Feathers' - Short storyFeathers'Feathers' - Short story
His name was Gary and it was the bane of his life. Could you tell him of one great artist called Gary? – Any one. No; of course not. He was born an Arthur, Mortimer, Charles, Henry, Leonardo…not Gary. What a cruel world; one which was not ready for him. He was sat huddled over, furiously painting away with numerous brushes clasped in aged hands, muttering this declaration to himself from bestubbled lips. His glasses magnified his eyes to a round, almost owlish state and framed a saggy somewhat misshapen face. His forehead seemed larger than normal and wrinkled with worry lines, made worse by a messy, too short grey
InjusticeBeautiful porcelain skin Soft cloth caressing her frame Eyes twinkling like gold Who knew she’d be the one to blameInjustice
Squelched into the contrived space The wheels begin to churn And all along, her euphoric eyes Swelled and began to burn
As her sobs join the chorus of others Her mind is fairytales away Dreaming of the butterfly She hopes will come her way
Her abstruse thoughts are broken By the screeching of hinges They are wrenched from their surroundings And everybody cringes
The aroma of demise
Soon fills the you
Sociable
--
"Hallmark refers to something's distinguishing characteristics, such as the frothy foam and loud fizz that are the hallmarks of a root beer float, or the tearstained photographs and the loud fizz that are the hallmarks of a broken heart."
Mr Popular aren't we.
--
~Design-Cook
I just made a new club called TraDigitalART :] Its a club for all types of artists, and were new!
--
~ROFLOLMAO~
I'd love to ^_^
--
~ROFLOLMAO~
(entered that contest by the way)
--
~ROFLOLMAO~
Previous Page1234Next Page