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Current Residence: Vancouver, BC
Personal Quote: Beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there. (Rumi)
The WeekMondayThe Week by `Jon-Law
She looks for herself. The evening's rain has skinned the pavement with a reflection. Stalactites of yellow streetlight and neon, deep violet sky between black buildings, the dim green clouds of treetops in the park across the street. She used to watch Eric's reflection in mirrors and puddles. Now she only looks for herself.
The skirl of tires on wet pavement startles her up. Without quite realizing it she'd knelt, then crouched, then leaned out over the curb to study the pavement. She shakes her head, brushes grit from her jeans. The bus lurches on without stopping. The next one won't come for a half hour. She looks at her bare wrist, force of habit, and frowns. Where did she leave her watch?
'If you knew where you left it, it wouldn't be lost,' she says, and tucks her hair behind her ears. 'No, go ahead, talk to yourself at the bus stop. It's totally normal. Bring a shopping cart full of tin cans next time.'
When the next bus finally comes the display over the windshiel
Looking Down On MeThe first thing I remember is the taste of vomit. Always. This is my life story, the title of every chapter, that taste. If I believed in god I would thank him for leaving it at that. A quick dip, a few wordsthe treatment of Christ by John. I would thank him for sparing me the fate of Noahs people or of Pharaoh.Looking Down On Me by `Jon-Law
In my earliest memory Ive half fallen from my red plastic chair. My throat burns sour, my arm is splattered and warm, my hand is clenched like a thousand year old mummys around a fork. A fat black spider dances impaled on the tines. I can still feel the tickle of its pinprick feet on my tongue.
Id call that my prologue. The first proper chapter of my life began in school. To be perfectly accurate, Id been in school three years by then. Mom home-schooled me until she concluded that I didnt have a social disorder, I was just anxious about meeting other kids. What she called anxiety I call terror that locks every muscle but the sphincter.
Good Men Do NothingAll that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.Good Men Do Nothing by `Jon-Law
Sick. Im sick. I felt it today, lying in the park. The sky was so blue and deep. Even the stain over the city didnt look too bad, but it was what made me realize Im sick. Im just like that yellow stain, sulking at the edges of all thats good and pure. The world is bright around me, and I have every comfort at my disposal. But I dont feel comfort.
What is it about nature that lets us know we dont quite belong? Just sky and trees and animals, no mind or anything, but it tells us. Its some big paradox, I bet. Something Dr. Who would explain with big words the staff writers found in the manuals for the studio cameras. Or is it simple, but we just dont speak the language anymore? Maybe we left it in the jungle with our tails and hairy knuckles. But then, maybe natures not telling us anything different than it was back then. Grow.
Master of RavensMaster of RavensMaster of Ravens by ~ladyjaida
My little brother is nine years old the first time I decide to kill him.
During the night, snow fell over the jagged wreckage of our land. In the morning I realize he will follow me outside if I call to him. Like an awkward-limbed colt he'll stumble through the snowdrifts, and I can leave him to the ice and wind in the shadow of a three-walled building. No one will see me. Our father will think he has gotten lost on his own. I too will cry when they find his body. When the mourning is done, however, I will be my father's true and only son. 'Cam,' he will call to me, and I'll kneel down before him.
My father. Master of Ravens. Crow-Runner. The Blackbird King.
I pull on my winter boots, knot the coarse laces.
My little brother asks, 'Cam. Where are you going?'
'Out,' I tell him.
'To play in the snow?'
'To look at it.'
When he was born, my little brother was named Taliesin. His is a world without myths, of course. Such things perished in the great f
Unknown Artists: July FeatureThe Unknown Artists Project is to expose talented, yet underrated, artists on deviantArt. In spirit of that goal, we will present to the community a monthly feature showcasing unknown artists in photography, traditional art, digital art and literature.Unknown Artists: July Feature by `imogene
selections by :iconimogene:
selections by :iconequivoque:
Lemon Tree Leaf by ~MoiMM The View From The Deck 07 by ~silversmith
a by ~pomiedzy :thumb55297657: The Downward Spiral by ~canphoto :thumb57249685:
selections by :iconpebcak:
:thumb49670668: :thumb40209171: :thumb56806872: Three Hurlers. by ~crinklechip
squared holes for the mails by ~vurbul fragments of life by ~serat space by ~chryztoph mirror man by ~Lesaonar
selections by :icontwosilverstars:
SOLO by ~florescuSource by *anubis46:thumb57559721::thumb53415780:
Padme Amidala by ~TereseNielsen:thumb56314301