Even though we already welcomed our two new admins in the contest blog (OMG CONTEST?! CHECK IT OUT) a few days ago, I feel like they deserve a bit more attention.
And since
In her words:
My greatest inspirations come from starry skies and shimmering seas. Nothing in my opinion is more beautiful to paint/write about than the seemingly endless. I fantasize about being an astronaut or a mermaid or better yet, an astronautical mermaid.
Positive and full of community spirit, everyone in the admin team yay-ed when we decided to invite her and we're really glad she accepted.
She's hosting an amazing contest, 2013 and a Time Machine which ends on December 31st (if we don't all die before then, right?). It's literally PACKED with prizes and I'm sure it can inspire many of you. So check it out!
On to her gallery, though:
25 pennies tossed in the wishing wellgolden sunlight
passes
cream curtains-
i rise.
my left hand is
in yours,
our rings
interlace.
i love your
lover's eyes.
please-
arrive by
twenty-five.
25 pennies tossed in the wishing well is a very short poem of hers, but I really like it. I like how simple it is, and how broad at the same time. Things don't always need a lot of words to be perfectly clear, do they?
The Glass JarFrom the time I could remember, I'd been given this transparent glass jar. It is said that I've been using it since the day of my live birth. I'd been told to use its nowhere-to-be-seen contents not more not less than once a day.
I had always known I was adopted. My adoptive parents (who were more loving to me than anything) were very honest in admitting this to me. Since I had always pestered them about it, they also confessed that other than the glass jar, at the orphanage where they got me, they were given a rain-washed letter to read- this letter was supposedly written by my mother. Aside from her confession of a planned suicide, in the letter were instructions that the orphanage must ensure my daily dosage of this glass jar. The reason behind it though was apparently stated in the following paragraph, where the ink was washed off and therefore was unreadable. The only part of the paragraph that could be understood mentioned that this jar is what will supposedly provide
The Glass Jar is a story that immediately drew me in for some reason. It's sweet, it's neither too long nor too short, and I am sure many of us have that secret "something" they go back to when they need strength. Be it a plushie, a book, or a glass jar.
Azi is someone we have known for a while now, through theWrittenRevolution, a brilliant writer and a stunning deviant. Just by looking at their profile page you can tell how supportive they are towards dA's community and the Lit family.
Their Fabulous Friday feature is an amazing feature for all kinds of art that you really don't want to miss on. The latest one, themed around Winter, is especially sweet considering how close we're getting to Christmas.
And from their gallery:
Terraformingi do not know what to say to the moon when i
wander between the mesa shelves, a cliff
dweller and an unwanted library book
passing from hand to hand and never quite
brown or red enough to hide myself from the
coyotes. i remember something of the south-
west—my hands sticky with desert powder
and cactus sap, and a feeling i can't explain
without the gleaming scrub brush beetles to
draw my nazca lines. i can tell you, though,
of when i willed myself to fit within the
cracks of canyon walls and tried to sink my
toes down into the colorado river. terra will
not fit my form, so i must longingly fit mine to hers.
Terraforming is one of those poems that you have to reread a few times to get a full image in your head. One of those poems that contains so much in so little that it's incredible. And the ending is perfect, the word "terra" especially seems to make it much stronger and intense, almost ancient.
The Wedding of Sparrow and FoxOne morning,
Fox left his den in search of food.
He searched the ground and found nothing,
and searched the trees and found nothing,
and finally looked to the sky,
where he saw a sparrow with lovely, shining feathers.
For a while, Fox simply watched, gathering his courage,
then finally he stepped forward and called out,
"Hello!
What are you doing up there?"
Sparrow whirled and wheeled and called back,
"I am enjoying the feel of the wind in my feathers
and the sun on my back."
Then Fox asked, "Won't you come down to earth and speak to me?"
Sparrow looked at Fox's lustrous, russet fur
and thought of Fox's kind, soothing voice.
But Sparrow remembered the stories Grandfather Aesop told,
and so he also saw Fox's gleaming teeth.
"No thank you," Sparrow replied,
"For the breeze is too lovely and the sky too blue."
So Fox thought for a moment, and then said,
"Then why don't you sit on the top-most branch of that tree?
Then you can enjoy the blue sky, and still talk to me."
And Sparrow couldn't
The Wedding of Sparrow and Fox is surely the piece that has caught my attention the most in the last while of browsing through deviantART's Lit section. It's everything a fable needs to be, written like a fable should be written, and something more... It tells the story of a tragic love, and a story that Nature probably has witnessed thousands of times, in a way that is too charming to ignore. Do yourself a favour and read it.
We
Sammur-amat and AzizrianDaoXrak
nice feature 