Here we are, one year after our first seasonal feature. I've seen many fabulous works submitted to the group this winter and they all deserve to be seen. Unfortunately, I can't show them all in this one little showcase. Here you will see only works having below 100 favourites.
Go and take a look at all of them, they really deserve more attention than they got!
Traditional Art
Digital Art
Writtings
The PromiseYou promised me, my love, you see, and I shall not forget.
We climbed the tower stairs as the bell solemnly chimed.
"If life forbids our love, then in death we shall wed."
You took my hand, we kissed our last, and off the edge we stepped.
But you let go, so I alone, plunged into the night.
But you promised me, my love, you see, and I shall not forget.
So I wait for you now, my love, for I know you must regret
Your eyes were flick'ring candles as you watched me die.
"If life forbids our love, then in death we shall wed."
You'll see me there again, some night, waiting by the tower steps.
You'll take my hand, I'll lead you up, up into the sky.
You promised me, my love, you see, and I shall not forget.
The bell will toll an exaltation, before we paint the ground deep red.
I'll whisper back the words you spoke upon our midnight flight:
"If life forbids our love, then in death we shall wed."
I'll ghost a kiss across your lips, to steal your final breath
Then look into your candle-eyes, and s
Tea Leaves
I’m afraid of tea leaves,
how they swirl
and settle in my cup,
determining my fortune
I stare
and wonder what they say
I seek someone who can read them,
who can tell me,
before I wake tomorrow morning,
what my future brings
I pour milk into the steaming cup
throw in a little sugar,
and wait
Demon Adoration Edit Part 1Demon Adoration Edit
Chapter 1, Part 1
An inch of virtue; a foot of demon.
He waited in the dark, in the shadows. It had been years, years since he had tasted fresh air, since he had felt the warm, sticky feeling of blood under his claws, since he had heard the crunch of bones snapping and the screams of humans echoing in his ears. Yes, it had been a long time. Three hundred and seventy years, two months and fifteen days to be exact. He was a monster, a demon. When released, he was bound in slavery to whichever human freed him until that human died or sent him back. He had been released in mistake by those thirsting for the water that sat
Shivering WeedsShivering weeds
I float in the river, threads of green vines twined around me,
twigs and foxgloves laced in my hair.
If I drown perhaps I will grow gills, silver slits.
A truck cornflower blue pulls over to the side of the road.
A man casually scoops up a little girl with pigtails tied with red ribbons.
She has no name now.
Fish stare at me with flat eyes like silver coins.
They place coins on the eyes of the dead.
But I am something else.
The princess dreams of spinning wheels that bloomed like asters,
fingertips pricked, guppies swimming beneath her eye lids.
No one will find her.
The truck is now only a blue jay on a road endi
Black Little Flowers BloomI walked across
and caught a sight of blinding white.
My eyes shut close
for just a second
and I stepped back again
Dark little secrets
followed me
from where I've been.
and now I know...
I walked across
a field ablazed.
There was no fear,
no trepidation,
only a memory-
your fingers
on the strings of my guitar.
I walked across
and I came back again.
These days,
I saunter down the strange pathways
of your affection
where the lightness in my heart is rivaled only
by that strange rapture
at the moment of my death.
Collecting grime,
my shoes gain miles.
Black little flowers bloom as I walk by.
The PortraitLittle Elsie found the painting,
Hanging in a darkened room,
Curtains pulled around it, hidden,
Left in darkness to its doom.
Brushing off the dust and cobwebs,
Elsie's eyes grew wide and round.
What a face looked out at Elsie.
Such a beauty had she found!
Hair like gold and eyes like sapphires,
With red lips the lady smiled.
Elsie stared, and Elise wondered,
Took the painting - brazen child!
'Please,' said Elsie, 'who's this lady?'
Stopping everyone she met.
Only one would answer her, with,
'Let ghosts rest, child - there's a pet!'
Elsie raged at this old lady,
Forehead creasing, cheeks aglow,
Took the painting to her bedro
Jewerly and clothing
Sculpture and artisan crafts
#Through-Emilys-Eyes
#GrimGloomTale
#All-about-features
`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More
Sta.sh
This article’s deviant spotlight: featuring the talented ~anapests-and-ink. She has offered to answer a few questions as well, to tell us a bit about what inspires her writing and which piece in particular she favors.
. A
and thank you for including my drawing!