[ xxaihxx’s Gallery ]
Robust, painterly strokes and a sophisticated palette make xxaihxx's work a delicious dish to lay your eyes on.

Mature Content

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_{Featured by: AshleighPopplewell}




[ TheCharles’s Gallery ]
TheCharles is a talented and underappreciated artist with an amazing abililty to manipulate photographs and use other tools to create a world straight out of his imagination. He uses color brilliantly and his finished pieces are complex and stunning!
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_{Featured by: TheImperfectImpala}




[ OhToast’s Gallery ]
OhToast's gallery is proof that photographer who keep with their work, do find their style. In her gallery, you can see the growth she has shown us.
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_{Featured by: rakastajatar}




[ isabellakay’s Gallery ]
Sometimes, it's the people right in front of you that you forget about. Having worked closely with her, browsed her gallery numerous times, and known her talent first hand, it never even occurred to me that I could and should feature isabellakay. Shame on me!
FebruaryFebruary
The unwelcome houseguest that won’t leave
Last year you brought ice
And wreckage
This year a fissure in my universe
And l(e)aden skies
Last year you let me fall (literally)
And you oh so strategically placed
The first crack in the foundation
It was a small unnoticeable hairline
But it grew
Oh how it grew
Until the friendship shattered
You’ve had me on edge
You’ve already bestowed me with
Bouts of depression
And days where none of the pieces
Could fall into place
The scales keep tipping back and forth
But I’m scared there’s still a KO
Waiting up ahead
February
How can I not be wondering what’s next : Three Dickinson -esque poems1.
Death came a calling
I sent Him on His way
He left—
Only to return the Next day
2.
Because I could not break for Sleep
She kindly broke for me;
The station wagon held just us--
And ninety-nine Sheep.
We slowly drove—not wanting to break the speed limit.
And I had packed away--
My pjs, and my toothbrush, too
For her Courtesy.
We passed the School where I attend
In my Waking--hours;
We passed the fields of corn,
We passed the Rising sun.
We paused--before a Hill
That bulged from the ground;
The Creek was scarcely visible,
It daren’t make a Sound.
Since then-- ’tis Centuries--but each
Feels longer than the Day
I first counted Sheep
And Insomnia fell Away--
3.
The Leaf crashes to the Ground
Like a thunderbolt
Yet Never makes a sound Midwest at HeartBecoming a caterpillar
To inch my way closer
To your cocoon
Holding onto your arm
Letting your shoulder
Bear the weight of my mind
Eyes sealing off themselves
Skin soaking up late summer rays
Spirit breathing in country air
Yearning to mold this moment
In concrete
Not trusting my fickle memory
To grasp on
Knowing it can’t be the same
Releasing my eyes
Watching afternoon shadows romp
Across the steering wheel
Eyes being drawn to your hands
Those unswerving hands
The counterpart to my own
Floating out the window
Viewing the oceanic sky
Seeing the forest of crops
All of those greens waving poetically
Intermittent patches of gold dazzling
Summer Midwest countryside scenes
No matter how far I may roam - they'll be with me
February | Three Dickinson-esque Poems | Midwest at Heart
_{Featured by: ATrue}




What is featured in the Misc. category?

[ WeirdBugLady’s Gallery ]
WeirdBugLady is a deviant after my own heart, her plushies are not of the cute and fluffy animals we are accustomed to but of the lovely creatures that we often ignore. Check her journal for more information about custom orders.

_{Featured by: feetpeet}