|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
Trade secretsI saw this really great journal entry done by :iconelysianImagery: and I want to re-post this on my journal, which she gave me permission to do so
But I'm going to add a few more things.
Deviantart can sometimes be... annoying. Sometimes the popularity that artists gain through this website just really do their head in and perhaps even start treating other artists very rudely. As artists, we always want to be better at what we do, and most of us do this by admiring an 'idol artist' right? You want to learn from them because you like what they do, and you also want to do it. So you've probably at least once hoped that your idol artist gave out some tips, or make a tutorial, or maybe you even asked them directly about how they do it. But instead, they go after you and start calling you a copycat.
I dislike- no, I hate, how people do this! I think it's very selfish of them. Not that anything like this happened to me recently, but definitely when I was younger, and I've also seen some o
YureiOn Yurei, there are gulls. Billions of them. They fill the skies from one yellow horizon to the next.
Among the mountains of refuse there are people, the last of Yurei’s once great population, who eke out an existence in shanty towns and concrete tunnels with steel gates. They hunt rats and hogs and the occasional amphibian Hi-go, though few of those have survived the transformation of a vibrant planet that had just begun to be colonized by sophisticated terrestrial life to two hundred million square kilometers of landfill. In small areas where they have scrounged enough suitable soil, they grow cabbages, potatoes, carrots, and a hardy local fruit called leppuna.
But on Yurei, it is the gulls who thrive.
Okyo watched them from atop a mound his village had created. It was solid, an enormous jigsaw of welded steel supported by enormous bars collected from various dumpsites, made to look like just another mountain to the dumper frigates. He marveled at their combination of grace and
Her CatalystAs she walks through the maelstrom, the words trace upon the tips of her fingers and press into the stone. Every brick, every crack in the concrete, every crossed and angular stroke in reds and blacks and oranges. The drips of the gasoline pool around the base of her boots, slosh as she steps over the burst pipes and the rubble.
So much rubble. So little outcry. The silence of the city grates on her eardrums and the mantras she'd been forced to memorize. The Seers demanded they observe thirteen years of recitation before they attempt to weave their first World together.
But who other than the Seers can claim the incantations that knot the skeins they twist and pull on like reins hold fast? When have any of the Sisters recorded the visions they traced upon space-time and recited them, left them open for critique and discussion and debate?
Which is why she walks through the chalky soot of the smashed city around her. This all
Keep in Touch!
Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More