|Life is art. Color it. Don't murder it.|
Happy Holidays from DeviantArt!‘Twas the night before Christmas on DeviantArt,Heidi
Not a paintbrush was stirring, and creators took heart.
The artists scrolled through Daily Deviations with care
Knowing kindred warm-fuzzies soon would be there.
Deviants were all swiping, all snug on their phones
While visions of inspiration across all time zones
Were zapped to their smart device, quick as can be,
At the tap of a button in a +Fav’ing spree!
When across the Interwebs there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to the Comments to see what was the matter,
“I’m bored,” the Journal wrote, “I’m on a long trip, too.
I don’t have my laptop, and there’s nothing to do.”
I cracked all my knuckles, settled down in my chair,
Then descended upon the keyboard and wrote with a flair:
“Dear Friend, did you not get DA’s early present?
We now have an app, and it won’t cost you one cent!
“On, Watch Feed! On, Browse! On, Explore! On, Today!
Tap-and-hold to fave, sha
Friday Features ^__^can't get used to this new dA logo, still looks like a bug to me XDLudifico
Move over Bette Davis! by jennystokes AB14 Our Abstract World ... 21 by Xantipa2
latione ideas by lecristal Soothing Love by miincdesign
ghostly by GLO-HE The Overseer by Buddylicious
Farside Outpost Seven by HalTenny Hidden thing... by Yancis
Road trip 2 by BlueIvyViolet Untitled 5 by CristianoTeofili
Desperate Measures by veeegeee
Boldly Facing The Futurespyed
Artist Credit DanielaUhlig
Many of you have been in this community for a long time, but whether you’ve just joined or you’ve been a member since day one, this is your first impression of the new DeviantArt.
Change is not something that we take lightly, because it affects our collective identity. It was important for us to define who we are and what we’re made of at our core before we changed anything. We all have our own understanding of what that means, but the process of getting that core story down on paper took almost a year.
The result is “Bleed and Breed Art.” This is our center of gravity and our reason for getting out of bed in the morning.
It is the guide and the justification for everything, including our business partnerships, the development of the new app and the design of our new ide
H o m e S i c kMaybe you're only truly sick,Sharkitty
when you rock yourself to sleep,
or when you pull at your hair,
when your mom tells you dinner is ready.
Maybe you're only sick,
when you isolate yourself from everyone,
when you don't speak,
You only drinkdrinkdrink the too bitter,
too cold coffee.
So what am I,
who am I,
where do I fit in
how do you feel at home?
When your house is on fire?
Pit Bulls are innocentPolli1
Every year pit bull terriers are responsible for the death of 3 people
40 children a year drown in 5 gallon water pails, in your lifetime you are 16 times more likely to drown in a 5 gallon water pail then be killed by a pit bull.
Pit bulls were known as the number 1 family dog in the 20th century, but the very same qualities that make this breed such a wonderful pet, are also valued by those who use them as fighting dogs, training them in brutal methods, some even going as far as to sew bottle caps under the dogs skin to ensure they're in constant pain, to make then more aggressive.
150 people a year are killed by falling coconuts, making you 60 times more likely to be killed by a palm tree then by a pit bull.
Pit bull puppies, ones that have never fought before are often killed because their parents were fighters, since when did it become guilty until proven innocent?
According to the American Canine Temperament Testing Association, 82.5%of the American Pit
MYTHODEA ~ Dark Night of SoulArthurCrow
In the labyrinth of darkest dreams, I am the pitch
of coldest night
In the solace of the blackest dawn I seek you
Where unblinking eyes sojourn in forests wild,
the kiss of ash and sanguine bespeaks
Whispers of a thousand skies rust and fall
The syrup of the gloaming hums thru the trees..
Obsidian mists bejewel the hunger of my soul,
like silhouettes dissolving into the poise of talons
In murk of scorched grove, Witches tears drip from
the leaves caressing the tip of my tongue
Acrid winds scented by forbidden incantations,
slither deep into the prelude of Love's sacrament
In shallow of ebon fields I bask in beautiful decay,
as black roses drift in ballads of nocturnal reverie
Beneath the providence of dark stars, I am the river;
the ink which you lust mystic poison & naked flesh
Undress thy ache upon sable breath, drink my gaze
Covet my shadow, unto forever you shall drown
Arthur Crow © 2012