Ode to Pen and PaperODE to Pen and PaperContrasting colors,Sharp, harsh lines,Soft curves andShadows, bold and dark.Connecting,Completing,Giving depth,Shape, volume.Black and white,Varying grays,Giving birth andBinding worldsTo pages.Strong and smooth,Or scratches and dots,Each with a story to tell,Screaming with bold,Deep strokes andCareful detail,As ink and tree,Dance.
Ode to deviantARTOde to DeviantARTThe minute my fingers hit the keys,My internet is open and loading,Green replacing background,As my eyes scan, homework forgotten,And pictures capture me and won't let go,Me laughing and commenting,Like a speed-demon,As I scroll.I love to add,To my gallery,And watch the reviews roll in,Spending hours critiquing,Searching, and waitingWith baited breath.This is my other world,Filled with art and people,Who understand me andWant to share their love,Of paper, ink, paint, and pencil.My anti-drug, a place where I belong,And shine.
Steady HandYou can say a lot in one look.The look on Gareth's face when saw me said volumes. We'd met in Seattle; running through Pike Place Market and nailing as many SOBs as possible as we made for a bus outta there. He was this crazy guy, thin and freckled and so pale in his black clothes. I bet he looked a bit weird next to me, in my army fatigues and with my large build; the jock and little nerdy goth straight out of some cheesy coming of age flick.But we clicked immediately. Gare had all the info you'd ever need on the RA. The Re-Animated; D*mnit, when I first heard of these 'zombie' outbreaks, I thought these guys were nuts. Geeks who had been out in the sun too long, who were so desperate to be important that they were creating this situation. That is, until the good ol' US of A became, for lack of a better word, infected. We never had a chance; they tried to hush it up, to find a way to break the news gently. Hell
how do you gently break the news that t
YouTMNT One-Shot: YouSmug, self righteous, know it all, bossy-"YOU aren't ready to be leader!"-heartless, glory hogging, teacher's pet-"-but most importantly, I'm BETTER than you."-cowardly, deserting, cold-Better than YOURaphael wanted to scream, he really did. Leonardo had finally crossed the line. He hadn't been home for more than a few days and he was already bossing Raphael around, telling him what to do, say, think. Leonardo had deserted them, he had given up. Raphael hadn't, he had found a way to still battle evil. But Leonardo was the golden boy, the fearless leader, the favorite son; he could do no wrong in the eyes of the others. Raphael was sick of it, of feeling inferior to his brother.Better than youHis feet sent sprays of rain whenever they hit the concrete roof. He needed to get away, to clear his head. It had felt so good."Raph?!"He had sounded so surprised. Raphael had done something about the evil around