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Stock and Resources: Policy ClarificationThe Stock and Resources community is an integral part of deviantART, both for having an active community of its own as well as providing high quality stock to all deviants.
As this community has grown so much over the years, so has the amount of invalid stock and resources that have been provided by some deviants. The Stock and Resources community feels like this reflects negatively on them, the volunteers have a hard time trying to teach people about valid stock and how to use it correctly, and it gives an appearance that deviantART Staff tolerate so-called “art theft” or copyright infringement.
In this article our aim is to reinforce our policies regarding stock and stock use and clear up some misconceptions.
Stock and Resource submissions to deviantART:
What are Invalid Stock and Resources?
In short, invalid stock or resources are anything which you do not have full permission to upload. This incl
It’s often easy to figure out what you want to shoot when you have a creative, artistic idea as inspiration - you are bringing to life your vision. However, as much as we would like it to be different, there is not always a market for our artistic visions outside galleries. Stock gives artists a way to distribute their works, though sometimes there is a bit of a limit as to what will be sellable to a wider market.
Creating stock doesn’t mean you have to give up all your creative aesthetic or ideals, but it may mean you have to alter them a bit in order to make them more appealing to potential buyers. At Novel Expression, we had to figure out how to get the most out of our shoots to appeal to the largest number of buyers possible. While it would be much more creative to shoot our models in various locations and fancy them up a bit with Photoshop, leaving the backgrounds clean and shooting with somewhat flat lighting gives our end user a clean palette with which to work.
First, find something that is missing in the existing collections.
Stay away from things that are common and find something unusual. Do you like to shoot flowers? Flowers and landscapes are beautiful, but they are very popular to shoot so make sure you find something that makes it stand out from what exists or shoot something in a unique way.
How about food? It’s currently a very popular subject, but there are still some areas that can use imagery. When I did the occasional food shoot, I found there was a lack of regional dishes and international foods. I found the vegan market was lacking imagery, as were various cuisines such as Persian, Salvadoran, and Peruvian. I was able to make some lovely, marketable images and still stick with my enjoyment of shooting food.
If you can find the magic intersection between what inspires you and what might appeal to someone looking for stock imagery, then you are getting closer to turning your creative passion into a possible source of income.
We are proud to feature today's Daily Literature Recognition!
You can show your support by ing this News Article.
Please comment and the features and congratulate the artists!
Featured by: TwilightPoetess
And To Your Healthi ripped an abalone from the craig,
kicked up on sour rocks that made my feet bleed and let salt lick the wound
i dropped her on the shore, i
picked up a rock and SLAMSLAMSLAM
gourged myself on raw flesh, the same sunset blush
of the outer shell, true and true and true
i licked the mother of pearl,
and she whispered to me,
"are you all like this?" in her innocent, dying breath
and i had the decency to tell her
Featured by: chromeantennae
planetscattered in techruined
are memoirs of an idea;
that gave rise to empires,
built on nothing but paper
they will soon find me.
i, unlike dust,
cannot scatter in the wind.
Suggested by: SilverInkblot
Featured by DrippingWords
Cleaning Up - FFM 2014 Day 19I sighed as I shoveled through the radioactive waste. They didn't care enough anymore to make us wear protective biohazard suits, so I left mine out in the break lounge. After nuclear war broke out hundreds of years ago, humans adapted to radioactivity anyways, so the worst that could happen would be similar to a stomach flu, at least at the levels this waste is emitting. I've heard some horror stories with the clean-up crew of fresh nukes, but that's not my job. Mine's at least 50 years old; there's no problems here anymore.
My job is just that of a glorified janitor, picking up remains of nuclear wars past and trying to revitalize the land for reurbanization. Sure, I have some clever gizmos that trick the uranium to decay faster that it does naturally, but that's just par for the course. It pays well enough, and I don't have to worry about impressing chicks, since this drives them away quicker than a rocket launch, saving me even more money. I don't need status, and I've got a house
Featured by: OfOneSoul
BansheeComes and sit a spell Child, your Uncle’s got a little ditty for you.
I’m-a tell you about the fate of little lads that wander far from their folks. What happens when you get away and hear the whistling in the trees.
The Banshees, boy, are woodland spirits. They climb high in the trees and watch you from above. When you walk alone and you hear the ripping wind, it’s really the Call of the Banshee. They cry and they cry for their own young, for they’re spirits who’ve died but don’t know how to move on. When they died, they didn’t know it, and because they didn’t, they can’t find their own on the Other Side. So when young lads and lasses go out walking, the Banshees cry from their high perches. And if you wander too far from home, the Banshees might swoop down and get you too.
Here’s a story about such a boy. A boy that looks a lot like you. He was a fine lad, he was getting tall and strong. And his head was big, too big for his
Featured by Malintra-Shadowmoon
The Lost Long Ship
[English translation further down]
Rimfaxe, Skinfaxe, himlafålar
dragit fyra droskor då
ransplog ristat fast fåra
över Endils ursinniga ängar.
God vind vägfararnas välgång.
Vår väg som bi från båge,
framför draken; resans mål.
Gladde gjorde gynnsamt öde,
glömt var Nornas nycker.
Hejdats hade Hräsvelg.
Töcken täckte alla ting.
Härskade gjorde Hels håglöshet.
Sjöhästen stampa stilla, stoppad
av Ängrirs stilla här.
Som ur ett banesår
vågsveparna vispade väck.
Ur djupet ett odjur
babord spjut söndersleto.
väntade vårt slut.
Hels bleka leda lättades när
missmodigt öde förbytes.
Himlens låga tändes oväntat.
Ögats väg låg utan hinder,
havet som en spegel.
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~ The DailyLitRecognition Team ~
Prepared by: TwilightPoetess
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Black-Hole AdventureIngvar spotted the small and yet seeming endless black hole in the ground near the goal post of the dragon soccer, He start to wondering about this strange hole before the ball was snatched by the opponent and was goaled. He groaned as he suddenly remembers some flashback of the abusive father yelling at him for letting down the Mocking-Morrison clan once again. He snapped out of it and flies away on Nightfire thinking about the hole. He felt strange bonds with the endless hole. He decided to return to the field by the nightfall.
Nightfire roared loudly in the dark night as Ingvar let him out of the stable. “Shhh.” Ingvar spoke in whispers before continuing, “We don’t want to let the villages know that we are sneaking out at the night.” The ferocious screeching misery lowered his head before letting Ingvar put the saddle on him and getting on him. “Let’s go.” was the only command before the mighty dragon bolt off into the starry night
FlamesIt begins with small spark of life.
That small spark gives an birth to living creature.
That beast knows no enemy.
Nor does it know allies
It is only curious creature that wants to roam and explore.
But yet that creature yearn to destroy everything
That you cared and treasured.
It seeks high and low, far and near
Nothing can be hidden from destruction force
It thrives air and it roams far as it is unstoppable.
Yet it knew ages and knew nothing.
It lives and kills
Million of loved one has fallen victim to the fire.
It gathers strength to roam far.
Careless and boundless blazes reach every point.
The Land of Axiellheim: The Beginning: PrologueLong time ago, when everything was still and nothing. Our leader, Mother Phoenix has risen from the ashes. She summoned the four balance to aids her in the creating of the new world, called Axiellheim, She summoned Life, Death, Myth, and Earth. Life, was an timid and quiet girl, she usually avoid rest of the four balances. She formed thousands of the immortals bodies before delievering to Myth. Myth, an adventerous boy, filled the immortals bodies with tales, histories and various of information that makes character before sending them on the Earth's backpack, Earth let the bodies roam on his back, they builds homes and things on his back. Earth carried them around the Sol and the Luna every day. But to lighten up the burden, Death always reaps the expired bodies. The remaining three of the four balance function quietly on earth's backpack, before earth left them on the ground and goes to join them and bring Mother Phoenix to see the wonderful land of Axiellheim. The Mother Phoenix dec
Lost and FoundWe travelled through final Harvest together
And found a secret, long-forgotten;
You kept it hidden with such care!
And suddenly, I became aware
I had a secret I might share
Through growing friendship, new begotten.
As we descended through the gloaming
To the Vale's beckoning lights
I pondered all the lessons taught —
The times we laughed, the times we fought,
The times we touched, or spoke, or thought —
Bemused, I followed you from the heights.
We reached the fireside of the inn,
And, welcomed in from autumn's chill,
Amazed, I re-explored my heart
And wondered when you'd become a part
And how I could have let it start —
The aching, and the thrill.
And now it is fully winter —
Gone, the lingering warmth of fall
We've shared more love and misunderstanding
(You, elusive, I, demanding)
And I am contemplating handing
You the key to heart and all.
The TrundlerThe waste land behind the fire station is always silent. No birds sing there, and even the wild rabbits and feral cats avoid it. Weedy wildflowers nod their seasonal heads in the breeze. Lying fallow in the midst of housing developments, shopping malls, the new movie theater — the vacant lot stands out like a knife wound on a woman’s placid face, shocking, brazen, ugly.
It is always empty. Except for one thing: a ragged heap of old trash, all nasty black tar paper and vicious snarls of rusted wire, car parts and broken glass and other junkyard jetsam. The embodiment of injury waiting to happen, an invitation to a tetanus shot... the city never hauled it away. No one ever wants anywhere near it; it radiates an eerie sense of calculating watchfulness.
And at night, it wanders.
When darkness falls, and the last cars heading into the hives of tract housing stop illuminating the asphalt with moving-picture shadows, it… unfolds. Bitter, broken tangles, grotesquely mov
Darkest HourDeath, death, divorce, desertion
Staggered against me, fallen one by one
When the last friend
Turned her shoulder
Politely excusing herself
From the wrack and ruin
I sat on the concrete —
Hard as resolve was not —
Astonished by the pain
of simply breathing
At the intersection
Of next and nevermore.
A double rainbow glimmered
Blithely on the sunlit sea.
Traveling SongA body in motion
Against a world of dizzying speed
In synchronized chaos
Thrown against a screen
of nacreous sky:
A colloidal suspension
Holding a blood orange sun
Silver negative space
Hazy winter air
Blurring the sleep-deprived edges
Of images caught in bites...
Here and there a face.
Change devours time
In all directions,
over broken ground.
My first step on a journey
of a thousand miles...
Around me, all I know
Hurtles toward uncertain goals
Unknown points of reference
Vanishing points of light
Where questions come into the world
and parallel lines meet.