butterfly feathers on infant skin;
the ribbons of scarlet have left only their ghosts.
i almost can't remember what they felt like.
i am released.
weary muscles
i struggle to breathe.
the deluge crushes my fragile cage,
a thousand tons in one single being's being.
the racing heart, the crawling skin,
the inner droning monologue.
and then i remember.
tears of happiness,
of sorrow,
of confusion,
and of fear
intermingle on her cheeks in a dance she cannot hope to follow.
one is lost in the darkness,
a dwarf in a world of giants,
a stranger to his surroundings.
away from his warm bed
and her comforting murmur,
a metronome for his days.
the sand flows quickly through his hourglass.
the other is scattered among the stars,
high away to the universe,
her pain lifted.
she is young again, old again,
caught in the breath of the wind
and the laughter of children,
in the soil and the trees,
in colour and light
and passion,
a smattering of atoms sent back to mother earth.
bot
the fisherman,
his pen and paper at the ready,
waits for a bite on his line.
he's caught several already today,
but all were small
with little meat,
easily discarded in the hopes of something better.
then suddenly, a tug,
a battle,
and the fish is on the deck,
wriggling, his muscles flexing with each terrified gasp of air.
this one is long and fat,
his scales beautifully iridescent,
bumpy like steel gooseflesh;
his teeth snap, tiny sharp daggers stained red from use;
his eyes betray fear, and thus life,
beneath their defiance.
he is caught, whether he likes it or not.
this fish will sell well at the market.
somewhere out th
butterfly feathers on infant skin;
the ribbons of scarlet have left only their ghosts.
i almost can't remember what they felt like.
i am released.
weary muscles
i struggle to breathe.
the deluge crushes my fragile cage,
a thousand tons in one single being's being.
the racing heart, the crawling skin,
the inner droning monologue.
and then i remember.
tears of happiness,
of sorrow,
of confusion,
and of fear
intermingle on her cheeks in a dance she cannot hope to follow.
one is lost in the darkness,
a dwarf in a world of giants,
a stranger to his surroundings.
away from his warm bed
and her comforting murmur,
a metronome for his days.
the sand flows quickly through his hourglass.
the other is scattered among the stars,
high away to the universe,
her pain lifted.
she is young again, old again,
caught in the breath of the wind
and the laughter of children,
in the soil and the trees,
in colour and light
and passion,
a smattering of atoms sent back to mother earth.
bot
the fisherman,
his pen and paper at the ready,
waits for a bite on his line.
he's caught several already today,
but all were small
with little meat,
easily discarded in the hopes of something better.
then suddenly, a tug,
a battle,
and the fish is on the deck,
wriggling, his muscles flexing with each terrified gasp of air.
this one is long and fat,
his scales beautifully iridescent,
bumpy like steel gooseflesh;
his teeth snap, tiny sharp daggers stained red from use;
his eyes betray fear, and thus life,
beneath their defiance.
he is caught, whether he likes it or not.
this fish will sell well at the market.
somewhere out th
I ride alone a lot at night. Sometimes, when my horse stops and perks his ears, I look out into the darkness and wonder what he sees that I dont. Now I kind of figure its best that I dont know.
But I digress.
This is my first year at the University of Missouri; I transferred in from Truman and moved down here at the beginning of the summer. But before I even started looking for an apartment, I scoured the surrounding area for a barn with an open stall so I could move my horse with me, but since the town is also home to a private equestrian college I couldnt find any openings on such short notice. So when I stumb
long time no see, deviantArt. i'm not dead, don't worry. do me a favor? pester me if the following doesn't show up either in full or in WIP form within a month or two.
• i want to draw more. like REALLY draw. TalksLikeJune (https://www.deviantart.com/talkslikejune) asked me if i wanted to do HARPG with her and...well yes! so that may be coming shortly. sophro and mau are also dying to come out, and i must oblige them of course. they haunt me otherwise.
• i had a huge inspiration for a calendar-type series using all the delicious new stock i've seen around. i'm totally rusty on the manip front, though. it might be embarrassing.
• web design! as some of you know i
EVERYTHING HAS A SHADOW. EVEN HORSES IN RANDOM PLACES DOING WACKY POSES. PUT 'EM IN YOUR ART!
i swear i will go medieval.
and also, what's with all this stupid drama around here? yeah, maybe i perpetuated it a little, but those were extenuating circumstances. and i never said i was perfect. but REALLY. if you don't want your shit stolen, DO. NOT. POST IT. easy solution to a stupid problem.
i'm really fed up with quite a few people around here.
5,000 pageviews. -mini party- :boogie:
personalizing has become so boring to me. i know a lot of people in our little community make a big deal out of it, but to me it just seems like a foolish hobby. i used to be obsessed. i used to pour my heart into my art and spend hours with photoshop. i even used to roleplay, believe it or not.
at this point i'm just plugging along because i feel like i have a duty to surreal. as though i need to make sure that feeling i had towards it back when i started out -- that feeling of comeplete awe and respect and hope -- is experienced by all the current and future members. i know it's important to people.