Well, I noticed it's been almost 2 weeks since I last wrote a journal entry. I've been so busy with work, art, study that I'm sorta all but brain dead.
But I have managed to spend some time catching up on other people's art and coming across new stuff and would like to share some of my favourite pieces. First, some chill sounds to enjoy it to:
First up is the sophisticated work by digital artist . His work is elegant, calm and positive:
Next, continuing my love affair with Dilapidated Beauty, is the work of photographer . His selective retention of colour, and the exquisite balancing therein is inspirational. The idea of deliberately distorting an image also interests me greatly. And yeah, damn jealous of his access to such great subject material:
Now is a photographer who has recently returned to deviant art after a hiatus. He has a great eye for colour and for capturing personality in creatures great and small:
A selection of other images that are just wonderful (gotta give special mention to the onion one - it's called 'worshiping the onion god' - how clever is that?):
Now for literature, a selection of works I've also enjoyed greatly:
Hello beautiful.Hello beautiful.
I would just like to point out a few things.
I just wanna say that if you've ever attempted suicide, cut, purged or have done any type of intentional self harm and you're still alive and you think no one cares, do me a favor and think again you beautiful human being because I care and no matter who you are, whoever reads this, I want you to remember that:
You are a beautiful person, whether you choose to believe it or not, it is your choice. if you think that you're ugly, you will feel ugly, when the truth is, you're not. don't let anyone tell your otherwise. Other peoples opinions should have no affect on you. you're not ugly. You are unique and you are beautiful and handsome in your own way.
We all make mistakes, we all live with regrets. But you know what? Learn from those mistakes, don't well on them, don't think back on them and wonder how you could have don
I chooseTo live by choice, not by chance,
To be motivated, not manipulated,
To be useful, not used,
To make changes, not excuses,
To excel, not compete.
I choose self-esteem, not self-pity,
I choose to listen to my inner voice,
not to the random opinions of others.
I choose to do the things that you won't,
so I can continue to do the things you can't.
On the edge of this ocean
My toes tickled by the lapping silver tide
The gray sky overhead promising storms
And a smile curls my lips
I know you're waiting for me
Today I felt the whisper of your words
The breeze carried them to my ears
The ocean spray hissed warnings
But I ignored the lies and turned my eyes
Up to the cloudless, azure sky
My freedom has split stones and hearts alike
What we've cast in iron is truth
But what we forge together is what matters
You are the epitome of promise
I am the apex of your day
Every fantasy has shifted
You've taken me somewhere new
To dream of fertile soil and laughter filled days
Encircled in your arms every morning and night
Where we whisper how thankful we are
These are the dreams that I dared not dream
Even as a little girl
Nothing could weight my eyes down
Long enough to see this immaculate possibility
A valorous protector waiting to guard my heart
What a fluid place to be, in your arms
My violent entropy halted by a s
The JesterThe wisdom of a jester
becomes known within his feet
He must dance and never pirouette
With bells upon the street
Like a caravan of gypsies
Fumbling down before they fall
The incandescent jester knows
He must surpass them all
With a mask of painted paganry
He turns their tears to cheers
A clown in morbid-mad-mache
Will dampen all your fears
Like the shuffle of a siren
In a warped and faded hall
He bows blatant before masses
With a madness held in thrall
But behind the mask is misery
The fantastical is plain
And as his paint will smile for him
His true self cries in pain
But this temperamental tapestry
We all spin for ourselves
When we leave the door mid-morning
We put our hearts upon a shelf
Because the world is just a jester's mask
With pain so thick it kills
The mass shall shun normality
For petty, mainstream thrills
And the clown is just a copy
Of what others do each day
So the jester's dance is honesty
It mocks the modern way
Have you seen my dream?Have you seen my dream?
It's not that big
But it is mine.
Have you heard my opinion?
It's worth two cents
It's worth every dime.
Have you touched my heart?
It is very fragile
But I am willing to share.
Have you seen my dream?
It may not be much
But at least I dare.
The Reason This Hurts so MuchI am the wind with no whistle,
too weak to be noticed.
I am a branch with no thistle,
too weak to get retribution.
I am the sun with no heat,
too weak to spread joy.
I am the rain with no beat,
too weak to be heard.
I am the ground with no grass,
too weak to be beautiful.
I am a river with no bass,
too weak to find stability.
I am the me without you,
too weak to defend myself.
SilentSilent being<da:thumb id="406616305"/>
protect me now
come to rest
The wooden floor creaked under her tiny shoes,
Resonating among the walls of the confined room.
On the brown desk, a handwork clock tinkled ten times.
Two weeks old dishes stacking beneath the dark gloom.
The old man stared through his wide opaque glasses,
Grey beard putrefying as an old cedar's roots.
He took off his brown coat, a temporary moult;
Sharply closing the main door like he felt a jolt.
The creepy atmosphere charged up with some distrust-
A lonely light bulb sparkled quickly, then vanished.
Thunders through windows, barely enough to see shapes,
This whole place represented nothing but disgust.
Stopping his wine up
He sat on the rotten bed
And gestured the little girl to come closer
Wrapping his arm around her
"Sweetie, would you like to see my plush rabbit?"
He and SheHe was religion,
she was the world,
it took her a while,
but she slowly believed.
His verses filled her with a hope,
beyond her wildest dreams.
He was love,
She was society.
He seeped in her structures
built skyscrapers in her skies
and mended the cracks in her fragile bones
He was imagination,
and she was insanity.
together they were the spark
of an idea, that ignited
a blaze on her mountain peaks
He was the winter,
and she warmed him up.
She was the summer,
and he was her shade.
They blended together,
a match set by fate.
Their path was dark,
so they lit a candle
and were burned by its flames.
The autumn of their love
turned into falling leaves,
and she was the victim
of a passion that killed her
in her early years of spring.
Milestone Prologue: Wings Unfolded
"Za’ ol au’sla majat “Sum’re” r’moe-b’kel; I stum’we zdukz zdir jix ok’oi’e l’mau xuk’avsta jizda zeksr magh a’mala, kit’b zdukz je okla ge kur vux-ehax kur zdere!"
"To my very own “Rose” someday; I hope this will make you laugh with tears of joy, and that we may be as gleeful as these!"
"The weather will be superb for flying today." said the elder, his eyes gleaming with his many years of experience.
He knew the patterns of weather, how it affected drafts, and how even the slightest change of temperature could mean the difference between reaching your destination and crashing to the ground. These things he taught his pupils with great encouragement and care, knowing his ge
Love to you all, now I need to go and eat brains.
And hang out with these guys: