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"Why," you ask? Because we want profile pages to have freedom of customization, but also to have some consistency. This way, when anyone visits a deviant, they know they can always find the art in the top left, and personal info in the top right.
Don't forget, restraints can bring out the creativity in you!
Now go forth and astound us all with your devious profiles!
Daffodils and Black-eyed Susans laugh in the breeze A melody of glorious insanity That is calm Utterly calm And so I lie awake sleeping
It's hard to remember now When numbers ran faster than the sun Their dimensions blurring from the great speed Accelerating through sound they approached...
Seven was streaking by His sunfaded yellow paint bubbled and cracked From the searing heat
Red eight was highballing like a Texas cyclone His rivets wept tears of rusty salt From the slicing pain
Green nine came rolling in deep shadow Seeming to escape the light in his haste A hollow moan trailed after him Reeking of desperation
Violet four shone like the stars of heaven His rakish angles knifing through the July afternoon He smiled as he passed, and I shivered in his wake
Orange two stumbled at a lonely bend in the road Where the poplars sang lullabies with nightingales As two went down, he began to smoke, grinding into the road Black five was unlucky that day, caught up in the catastrophe
The world shimmered a moment under the weight of parallels Dangerously close to becoming threaded together Until the death of five and two Relaxed the bars of space and time
And the parallels continued on their courses into oblivion
White one and silver six were neck and neck Urging each other to impossible levels of speed In a blinding flash they passed Numerical turbines drinking life And chasing Orion
I laid there a moment In wonder and amazement In the distance I heard the rumble of their passing Like a thunderstorm over the hills, barking at the sleeping woods I waited
The afternoon was quiet once more And as I walked back to my room I heard the poplars singing hymns
Here I am Locked in an antique time In this sun-washed hotel room On a dead end street
I sit in front of the tall windows Looking out on the ocean The salesman comes carrying a cardboard suitcase He is clutching his loving wife, he has her dreams and tears locked In the beat-up suitcase, and he smiles and hears the song on the radio "Brother, can you spare a dime?" I can only look out of these tall windows into a dead afternoon A dog sleeps in the shade
All the answers are in that suitcase If only the drink were stronger We could open it and see for ourselves The wonderful mysteries of yesterday But the trombone is on strike today So we won't bother with it now
Palms march down marble aisles Like indentured servants Fabulously tropical butlers and crazy uncles Living in a polished marble paradise Beneath a ceiling fan sky All they do is laugh Shuffling cards and dealing for centuries Will someone put the Bing Crosby on I'd like to hear that now
Nightingales mingle in the palladium At the Hotel Tripoli Watch us swing in the palladium As though we've been here before The piano man is kindling the heartache With deadly ivories
Einstein is in the corner eating smoked herrings While Picasso paints "Relativity Defined" The battered suitcase is resting next to Napoleon As he sips some raspberry wine
I cannot shoulder this burden, I cry aloud But no one seems to notice They laugh and nod in the right places Because Newton is playing Hangman And Descartes is on the tree
Gentle morning caresses my sleeping form Wrapped in softest shadows The morning is whispering Though I cannot understand what it says
The salesman is walking on the veranda He is saluting the schooners in the bay A rhino is sleeping in the parlor While Groucho tickles the keys
I take all this in stride But we really must begin Today is a mere eon Tonight is another eclipse
How can we see the beginning from the end If it all began in light And ends with a guitar softly playing I must have another drink
Stars shine in jeweler's velvet As the palms gossip in the breeze Cocktailers come and go Lingering in the hall a moment Then turning to view the ocean Quietly enthralled at the breakers Going CRASH! BOOM! AAahhh!
The salesman and I retreat to the nook beyond the bar Listening to the jazz He reaches to open his suitcase I see a star fall from heaven
We peer inside Across the room everyone sighs As in a dream Or an Autumn wind mourning the days Gone by
Have you ever seen something so beautiful? But no one can answer We are lost in the spell Falling through light and sound
The guests revolve about the room There I see Groucho laughing with Kennedy While Bogart lights his cigar Somewhere I hear a voice singing But it is lost in the blades of grass I'm lying in
For the sky is so blue So real, such a vivid hue And there is no time for Pianos and martinis For melancholy rhinos And Arabian bazaars
There is only time to gaze at the mystery of my past That I have found again Lying in this lush, dark grass Till the butler brings my drink.
Hi folks! I'm a hobbyist photographer and writer. I love doing both...the sense of elation I feel when I find a great scene to shoot, or when the words flow onto the page seemingly of their own accord.
The best part of DA is the wonderful people! I've made some great friends here, and I urge you to look through my friends and watch list...my friends are truly gifted.
Current Residence: Michigan, USA
Favourite photographer: William Eggleston/Lewis Hine/Margaret Bourke-White Favourite style of art: Ash Can School/Art Deco/Surrealism/Industrial Personal Quote: Those days are gone forever. ~ Pretzel Logic by Steely Dan
Known to millions around the world for generations as the cool, logical Mr. Spock of the legendary TV series Star Trek, Leonard Nimoy, aged 83, died this week.
I remember watching Star Trek as a kid and being totally immersed in the adventure of it all. Spock, Kirk, Bones, Scotty, Sulu, Chekov and the others were "going where no man has gone before" but they somehow seemed...familiar, in a traditional sense, the kind of men and women who were not too far removed from role models in my own life.
Spock was the eternal cool customer; the Vulcan he portrayed could be counted on to deliver the necessary straight answer in a crisis.
"I can make a lord, but only God can make a gentleman." ~ King James I of England 1566-1625
"If you think it's expensive to hire a professional to do the job, wait until you hire an amateur." ~ Red Adair 1915-2004
"A Steely Dan concert is akin to witnessing the passage of a single multiplex vehicle the size of a motorcade or convoy, its various segments comprising limousines, ice-cream wagons, hearses, lunch-carts, ambulances, black marias, and motorcycle outriders, all of it Rolls-grade and lacquered like a tropical beetle. The horns glint, as it rolls majestically past, splendid, a thing of legend, and utterly peculiar unto itself." ~ William Gibson, Festival International de Jazz de Montreal 2008: July 2.
"I unconsciously decided that, even if it wasn't an ideal world, it should be. So I painted only the ideal aspects of it - pictures in which there are no drunken slatterns or self-centered mothers... only foxy grandpas who played baseball with the kids and boys who fished from logs and got up circuses in the backyard."~ Norman Rockwell 1894-1978
"Let us upon new thoughts write antique verses." ~ Andre Chenier 1762-1794
"One must do coolly the things which are most fiery." ~ Hector Berlioz 1803-1869
Art is a force which frees the soul and through which one can grasp "certain rhythms of life and breath" which compel one "to fall in with it, like passerby who join in a dance; these rhythms compel us to set in motion, in the depth of our being, some secret chord which was only waiting to thrill." ~ Henri Bergson 1859-1941
"Hug and kiss whoever helped get you - financially, mentally, morally, emotionally - to this day. Parents, mentors, friends, teachers. If you're too uptight to do that, at least do the old handshake thing, but I recommend a hug and a kiss. Don't let the sun go down without saying thank you to someone, and without admitting to yourself that absolutely no one gets this far alone." ~Stephen King, Commencement Address, U. of Maine, 5-07-05
"And what guarantee, pray, have you that your life will last longer? Who will suffer your course to be just as you plan it? Are you not ashamed to reserve for yourself only the remnant of life, and to set apart for wisdom only that time which cannot be devoted to any business?
How late it is to begin to live just when we must cease to live! What foolish forgetfulness of mortality to postpone wholesome plans to the fiftieth and sixtieth year, and to intend to begin life at a point to which few have attained!" ~ Lucius Annaeus Seneca 4 BC- AD 65, on 'The Shortness of Life.'