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My Hang glider pilot friends called me "Pelican" and it has been my "handle" for many years but my girlfriend (of almost 4 years now) calls me "Squid". I call her "Chicken". So, it seems only reasonable that our offspring should be named "Squicken". He is due September 26th or whenever he chooses to come out and play. On his birth certificate, he will be "Cameron Michael" but he's gonna be stuck with be it.

Some of the joys of pregnancy are all the stupid classes one feels compelled to attend. Of course, it isn't fair in the least to refer to these wonderfully instructional forums as "stupid" because there  truly is a copious amount of information disseminated during the eons of hours you sit through. Videos, lectures, illustrated instructions, and hands on practice doing all sorts of things one rarely finds palatable. Well, by "one", I mean my girlfriend and me.
What astounds me is how excited everyone in our classes is...well...everyone except the two of us. What I want to do is ask all these wide eyed expectant Moms and Dads if they realize the monumental chore of having a PERSON enter their lives. I want to shake them and say,"This isn't just a baby to play with. It's a HUMAN BEING.!" But, first of all, who am I to say such a thing AND they probably wouldn't hear it anyway.

My girlfriend and I are a good pair because we seem to have a missing gene. We are both missing the gene that allows you to be excited about learning what baby poo looks like and how radically it changes in the first week or so. We're missing the gene that makes you smile when there's a video of a fresh-from-the-exit bloody baby laid on a mother's chest.
I turned away from the movie of gore while my girlfriend looked at me and said,"Hey - I'm telling the Doc to clean that thing up before he hands it to me!" YEP - we're missing a couple of key genes.

I don't need to know how a baby's head crushes as it passes through what they affectionately call "the birth canal" and which I refer to as the "extruder" because, if I give it a more mechanical name, I'm distanced from the carnage a bit. I don't need to see photos of a "healthy" placenta, although I do find the word rolls off the tongue nicely. I DO NOT want to have discussions about what to do with the placenta nor do I want to hear about all the things other people do with their placentas (placentae?). Furthermore, we have to make decisions about what to do with the umbilical cord blood. My gene for being interested in a long discussion about this matter is missing. Matter of fact "umbilical" is a fine word and "cord" also has a charming assortment of vowels and consonants but when combined, they make me wince. I don't care to hear those two words together even when referring to an astronaut's attachment to the International Space Station.

I keep telling myself I will be grateful for all this info when Cameron Michael becomes more than a stomach lump. I keep trying to convince myself that, in the near future, I'll be happy to know it is imperative to stick, not just the nipple, but the entire areola into the baby's mouth when breast feeding. I continue attempting to persuade myself that terms like "mucus plug" and "bloody show" are normal in the vocabulary of soon to be parents. BUT - I'm missing a gene. I don't WANT those terms stuck in my head any more than "nose bleed", "diarrhea" or "hemorrhoid".

To add insult to our injury, the instructor in "Preparation for Baby Delivery" class stopped part way through one of her morbid tales of Doulah-dom and asked us to form circles of 6. In these circles we were to take turns telling the other parents-to-be what we lovingly wanted to pass on to our progeny. 
My lack of a particular gene and perhaps the activation of some other less desirable genes kicked in and I found myself in,"This ain't NO, this is HELL NO" territory. Now, this group of folks are probably all nice people but I already have friends...lots of good friends. I don't know these people, I don't want to know these people, and I certainly don't want to "share" with them or have them "share" with me. The reason I attend these classes is for information not therapy or group hugs.
But, rather than be a total asshat, I sucked it up and tried to act like I cared when Julie said she wanted to teach her little girl to cook, and Len said he wanted to toss a football with his duckling (even though he was a skinny Asian dude). When it came my turn, I just said,"No thanks...I'm shy" and left it at that. It was the best I could do given my genetic coding.
All eyes trained on my girlfriend. Keep in mind, this is the girl who when asked what she did for a living, once replied,"I have a monkey cleaning business!"
She tells people I am a photographer but also own a Porta Pottie business. Her penchant for f**king with people is legendary.
I know her intimately, both literally and figuratively, so I was wondering what, given HER similar genetic coding, would come out of her mouth.
"I want to dress our little boy in girls clothes so he doesn't grow up with gender discriminating values", she delivered. It was pure and utter and simple genius. She didn't elaborate, explain, or even continue. She just smiled and surveyed all the less than comfortable faces.
Our clan of 6, sat and stared for a moment, then heads nodded politely and a couple parents agreed that might be one way to do things. 
I was SO PROUD of my girlfriend. I wanted to dance around the room and have a beer but the joy was all in our twisted genetically aberrant brains. Her brilliant warping of this uncomfortable situation into a knotted bizarre joke was hysterical to me. I nodded my head and smiled approvingly at what she had "shared" while trying to contain myself.

Only the two of us knew how funny it was and we weren't gonna "share"... at least not with these folks.
  • Listening to: the hum of the G5
  • Drinking: Heineken
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Time is certainly displaced. We're not really suffering jet lag but it's obvious our bodies are weirded out by being here.
My girlfriend and I traveled today to Atsugi, about an hour train ride from Tokyo. We had some business to take care of there. It was a bit frustrating because we couldn't get everything done we needed to, but the traveling to and from was delightful.
I was amazed, looking out the train window, there was not ONE piece of litter. I think we traveled 20 miles or more before I saw so much as a tissue paper beside the tracks. The Japanese, even in the less affluent areas, are incredibly tidy.
During the morning commute, the subway trains are packed so full there are literally uniformed individuals called "pushers" whose job it is to shove people into the cars as tightly as possible. As the doors slide shut they get very aggressive and carry out their job of sardine commuter packing very seriously… and they do it with smiles and white gloves and a charm that everyone not only tolerates but respects.
It seems there is a favored practice here, especially in Tokyo, if one desires to remove himself from the gene pool, to use a swiftly moving subway train as an exit strategy. Flinging oneself in front of said speeding subway is pretty effective and dependable. It's also an efficacious way of thumbing one's nose at those left behind because there is a hefty fine levied on the surviving family of the jumper. Today we sat in the subway for an extra 7 minutes so the cleanup crews could gather parts and pieces of some disgruntled soul. I don't think "cleanup crew" is a job I would ever apply for. I prefer to interact with human beings with all their parts assembled correctly and firmly attached. What amazes me is we were only delayed 7 minutes…these guys clean up fast! In Japan it is disgraceful to be late, so perhaps this manner of suicide has more implications than the obvious.
We continued our journey and it was amusing to see modern architecture blended in among old old temples. We passes mile after mile of packed high rise apartment buildings. It terrifies me to imagine what a lethal virus could do in Tokyo.
We did have a short bit of entertainment from a psychotic dude on the train. Seems a few of his personalities were along for the ride and they decided it was a good time to announce he was gonna take a singing test. He then became his teacher and said a few corrective words, then went back to being "himself" and proceeded to sing for us all. It was short and ceased to be amusing after the third or fourth time through his recital. But it was a way to pass time as we sat waiting for arms and legs to be tossed into plastic bags somewhere down the tracks.
Then there are all these young Japanese girls in school girl outfits. Perhaps it is the better part of discretion not to comment here.. Geeeeeeez
Tonight we went to Budo Kan and saw Def Tech. I had no idea what either of those things were but there I was shooting photos of the whole thing. It was loud, young, and Def Tech certainly seemed well received.  Maybe I'm getting old but I'm truly not impressed by electronics. BUT there were some tunes they played that made it obvious there was talent on stage. Guess I'm an old fart… I just LIKE rock and roll.
After the concert we took a long stroll in the rain and went to a little hole in the wall restraint I love here in Tokyo. If you've never had shishito peppers….yum…. get some!
I passed on the horse sashimi.
I am here with my girlfriend and my dear friend, Jim Beaver, who is one of the lead cast members of a TV show called "Supernatural". I've know Jim many years and it's fun to see his career doing so well. He gets recognized a lot here in Japan and he said there was a "small mob" waiting for him when he got off the plane here. How do people find out these things??
Tomorrow night there is a dinner here for him… a bit of PR for the show.
More later… Asahi  in Japan, mmmm….good beer.
  • Listening to: the hum of the G5
  • Drinking: Heineken
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In the 1960s, Ray Stevens wrote a song titled "Everything Is Beautiful" and it won him a grammy. Perhaps it was the idealism of those times or maybe a personal philosophy that gave birth to this song. It starts out with children singing "Jesus Loves the Little Children", a song I remember singing in church when I was a child.
"Jesus loves the little children
All the children of the world
Red and yellow, black and white
They are precious in His sight
Jesus loves the little children of the world"

Like Disney's "It's a Small World", this song has a worm like infectious tune that rolls around in your brain like a marble in a barrel. A child, once he has learned this song, will hum it, whistle it, and sing it until adult ears bleed. Not only is the tune contagious, the lyrics are ideal and Pollyanna to the point of near myopic blindness.
After one chorus of "Jesus Loves the Little Children", Mr. Stevens' song moves into his "Everything Is Beautiful, in It's Own Way" mantra.
The notion he puts forth in this song is that everyone and everything is beautiful in it's own way. That if we CHOOSE to see the good, choose to find the positive, and choose to open our hearts to love, then …"the World's gonna find a way".

The first thing I want to say is, whatever you do, DON'T listen to this song on YouTube or anywhere else because it will stick in your head. In less than an hour you will be begging for some Beatles, the Who, or a good dose of Led Zeppelin.
But beyond that, I have a bit of a dilemma. I am embarrassed to admit, I actually agree with Mr. Stevens… in theory. I truly WISH it was that way. I WANT to believe the best of people. I WISH the world would live in love. Personally, I choose to live my life that way. I choose to believe the best of people, trust people, and see the best in them … BUT… at 62 years of age I can say it's not only incorrect, it's dangerous to walk through life with rose colored glasses.
I have had people steal from me, cheat me, and deceive me in many ways, but I STILL choose to believe the best. I choose to be this way because I cannot live my life in paranoid, bitter, and angry resentment for the few times that people have chosen to be dishonest, deceitful, or deceptive.
As the old saying goes, I can't allow "one bad apple to spoil the whole bunch" for me. I love life. I love people. I am happy when I see generosity in the world such as the relief efforts for the tsunami in Japan. I am happy when I see a child share a toy.

"Everything Is Beautiful in It's Own Way" is an ideal I wish were true, but when I go downtown Los Angeles, I won't leave valuables in my car and I won't leave it unlocked. What I WILL do, is be the best person I can to everyone I meet. I will try to add something good to the world. And through personal experience, I now have a fairly perceptive filter on who to trust.

The way I see it, not everything is beautiful in the world, but I can add my small part to what is beautiful and I can revel in all the beauty around me. People who refuse to love again because of having experienced heartbreak, are protecting and empty house. Love will teach us freedom and experience will teach us discretion.

Now if only I could get that stupid song out of my head. I'm going on YouTube and look for "Stairway to Heaven"!!! Yeah… gimme some Led Zep and a Heineken!
  • Listening to: the hum of the G5
  • Drinking: Heineken
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There are three simple words
That have the power to leave me
Those words can produce beauty,
Deception, war, or more.
They can overturn cars
      Slice open wrists
      Saw through secrets.
The can shatter hearts, like
Crystal vases thrown against walls.
And yet,
They lead you to dream of a smiling future
       Rich with technicolor.
They tear off clothes and explore
       Every curve
       Every inch of skin
       Every moan that they create.
They can be
       whispered into your ear
       pondered inside your head
       shouted up to the sky
       or whimpered at times of need.
They are an exquisite revelation
       Of all the mysteries
       That wander around your mind.
Those words can burn the blood
Streaming in your veins.
They can maximize your heart speed
       Tint your cheeks
       Put a smile on your lips.
They can compose harmonious music
That rushes to your soul.
Those words contain an entire spectrum
       Of insecurities, wishes,
       And endless possibilities.
I'm hoping that
Whenever I utter those three words
Into your ear,
You feel the best, breath-taking emotions
That race through my bones
Whenever you say them to me.
for cdm

(c) lisa tate, 2010. do not use my work.
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There are three people living in my mind. And they control my every move.

First, let me introduce Mimi. Short, plump, her dark hair in a bob-cut, she favours the colour red and rarely has time to clean her glasses. Not that she cares.

I guess you could say that she's the misunderstood of the three. Her main drive is to keep me alive, healthy, and pain-free. She's the one who sends reports to Valerie, telling her what's being said, whether or not there's pain, everything. Every bit of information goes through Mimi.

Even though she couldn't care less about the health of others, this doesn't make her selfish or evil. No, she is simply doing a job and that's her only job.

In my mind, there is a large storeroom full of shelves. And on these shelves are boxes and boxes, each crudely labeled, none of it in any sensible order .Some are dusty and rarely perused-through while others can't even keep their lids on.

In charge of this room is Valerie.  All day, every day, Valerie runs through the storeroom, grabbing files and reading reports. When she isn't fetching information, she usually will just read a random thing, allowed.

Blond-haired and scatter-brained, Valerie knows where everything in the room is, or can at least find it promptly. At the snap of a finger, she'll be up and grabbing a random memory for you, or whispering a person's name, so that you don't look like an inconsiderate fool.

When it comes to an event where Mimi has no idea what to do, it's Valerie who takes the reigns. She'll fly through at lightning-speed, snatching up memories that she can weigh against the situation, to assess what to do. Or perhaps Mimi read, in a book, about it somewhere, she'll drag that up.

Though she can be air-headed and chatty at the worst of times (like, for instance, when I am making out with someone), she is the most level-headed of the three.

To entertain herself, she'll memorise the order of things (such as every book on by bookshelves or the complete layout of every movie at Blockbuster) or leave the storeroom into various fantasy realms. Most of the time, she'll convert the last bit to memory and have Mimi write it down later.

While Valerie is usually in charge of most situations, sometimes Libby will step forward.

Libby is probably the most diverse character in my mind.

She is the type to fly completely off the handle and blow a situation out of proportion. She is constantly mistrusting people and judging too quickly until Valerie steps in. Questions, Libby is always asking them. Who, what, when, where, and why. She is the reason people accuse me of nosiness. But, an expert at figuring things out, seeing things that might as well be there, and reading people as though they were picture books, her methods of deduction are unique and absolutely astounding.

Not to say that she's perfect or never wrong. No, quite the contrary.

And she's usually the one to jump in without thinking, only wanting. Sometimes Valerie can't stop her and she starts telling Mimi what to do.

Lots of times, this usually doesn't turn out too well.

Sometimes, however, she knows exactly what she's doing. Like when she blurted out that she wanted to date this guy, to his face. She knew how he'd respond.

While they each have their own specialties, sometimes, all of them have to weigh in when it comes to certain situations.

My first car accident is a great example.

I pushed the button to cross the street, saw the blinky walking guy symbol, started walking—bam! Hit by a car running a red light.

I sat there, dazed, while Mimi fired reports to Valerie.

Pain in the bum, shoe is about five feet away, sock a little further, damn it's cold, and there appears to be a car behind me.

Valerie went through these, read through similar situations and found a small memory of being hit. Also, she pulled up anything medical she'd learned.

Ok, make sure you didn't black out . . . you didn't. Good. Now, is there pain in the neck? No? Ok, the back? Good, no pain. No blood either and no broken bones.

Libby had a different approach to it.

We're wet and cold. Stand up. Ask the guy where you shoe is. Better hope he has insurance.

Valerie agreed on the insurance thing.

I was lead to the nearby Runza, all the while, Valerie researching heatedly while Libby made took information from her and used it to help Mimi figure out what to do. The three argued and debated. Do we stay and let them call the cops or just go get the ice cream as was the original plan and go home? Do we want to go to the hospital to make sure everything is ok? If we just go home, do we tell mum?

Of course, I lived through it.

But this is how my mind works.

I'm not insane, I promise. I'm completely aware that these people aren't real—that I made them up.

The whole thing was inspired by Sigmund Freud's Id, Super-ego, and Ego. Respectively, your inner desire, your Jiminy Cricket, and your balancing decision.

I just named mine and gave them personalities. They are each unique to one another and have their strengths and flaws. All three, to me, are as real as any other.

I know it's all made up by electric pulses and chemicals in my brain.

But it's soothing, you know? To know that I am never alone.
I know, I'm insane.
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Note to self: Getting up early does not mix well with late night drinking.  The good news is, I think I'm on track for setting a new personal record for consecutive days with a hang over… wait…is that good news? It's amazing to me that you can buy beer in vending machines everywhere here. Ugh…it's 6:30AM, I'll pass on the beer….for now.
My legs are sore from walking about 2,000 miles yesterday and my feet already hurt. I love it.
This morning, after crashing a little after 2AM, we got up at 6:30AM to catch the bullet train to Osaka. The train stops several times, so it doesn't always get up to the incredible speeds other ones do. We'll be on one this Sunday that tops out at about 180MPH! It's hard to describe the funny experiences one has on the subways and trains. The crazy visuals of passing another train going the opposite direction when you are only a foot or so apart. Ah…these Japanese are so precise. The trains displace so much air that when we pass another train, there is an appreciable surge from the train pushing a compression wave of air in front of it. The tunnels we go through have extensions built on them that dissipate the shock wave and keeps it from going "BOOM", not too much different than a jet breaking the sound barrier. There are other odd visuals (hey - I AM a photographer after all) such as moving the same direction as another train. It's odd because, if you take a photo, the train you are shooting and the train you are in, don't move (in the image) but the scenery is blurred.
On our train this morning, an older gentleman sits in front of us reading the newspaper. What's interesting is there are ads for tit bars in the local paper that show girls with their bare breasts hanging out. That sort of thing is such a "no-no" in the States while here, they think nothing of it…literally.

The exchange rate for US dollars is HORRID. For every dollar you give, you get about 75 cents. It's nice that there is no tipping, anywhere. And on a side note, the Japanese health care system is pretty wonderful.
And can I just say a word about the cops here. They are shining examples of how police SHOULD be. They are SOOOO gracious, kind, and helpful. I've had them literally RUN to help me, (crisp blue uniforms, hats, and white gloves) and not just give me directions but take me to my destination. No attitude, no posturing, and always willing to go the extra mile. I admire their social awareness and consciousness of their job.
Speaking of social awareness, if a Japanese person has a cold, they will wear a mask so they don't spread germs. So it is quite common to see people walking around wearing what looks like surgical masks. Social and personal responsibility is a driving force in this culture. I'm big on taking responsibility for our actions, so it is wonderful to see a culture where the act of bringing a law suit against a business, because YOU spilled your coffee in your lap, does not happen. OSHA would make a mess of this place and would be laughed at anyway.

In writing journals, there is no concept of time. From the last paragraph I wrote to this one has been a day and a half. So this will be "Japan Trip…day five" too.

We enjoyed our time in Osaka. I took photos of the staff, students, and some of the clients of Osaka Mode, a "beauty school" where they teach hair, regular and air brush makeup application. There's a lot more to it, but I'm not sure what all they do. I understand the government is involved in some form of subsidy, but I was just there to shoot and also for a speaking engagement. It was amusing, after my talk, that several students wanted to come ask all sorts of questions. One girl asked me if, in all my travels and adventures, I had ever thought I was gonna die ! lol I actually had to think about that. I can recall many times I probably SHOULD have died but I couldn't recall any time I thought I REALLY was. It dawned on me that it was a fairly odd experience of my view of what has happened on occasion. Guess Im just weird.
One of the clients was a young man who claimed to be a palm reader. He was a cheery lad who went about reading everyone in the room. My girlfriend and I are, shall we say skeptical, of the accuracy of palm reading but for amusement she stuck her palm out. He blathered on with flagrant generalities that started to bore her, so she said,"Yea..yea..with all that positive stuff, give me something like I have liver failure or some sh*t.."
I cracked up. He looked positively baffled.
Another of her famous quotes came later that night,"WOW…this is the farthest West I have ever been…….. sober". Little did we know we were about to remedy that.
We spent the night in a lovely condo of a friend in Osaka. Across the street was a tiny restaurant that had the most amazing beer. SO, of course, we had too much…AGAIN. Geeeez. Such an odd experience to be in a restaurant with about 10 people, knowing we will most likely never see them again. We crashed about 2AM but were had to clear the cobwebs at 6:30AM to catch the train to Okayama.

Day Six
The stewardess on the train is so lovely and she bows on her way out the door of our car thanking us all. Americans could learn a lot from the respect and work ethic of the people here.
In Okayama, we visited the Koraku-En castle and the amazing garden there. We sampled rice beer, grape beer, and had the most amazing white peach ice cream. Oh crap….not more beer….and this early!
There was a kiosk where you could buy bread to feed the koi in the lake, so we did. We were somewhat amused that the bread was a long skinny loaf that looked VERY VERY phallic. I, of course, had to make every conceivable comment about it. I turned toward the lake and accidentally broke it into what now appeared to be a decidedly obvious bread dildo. My girlfriend and the 3 other friends with us laughed our asses off. To make matters worse, when we threw pieces of it into the water, the koi would swim up, look at it, then turn away. This of course, inspired my friend Jim to comment about the Koi wanting nothing to do with "dick bread". Basically, it went downhill from there.
I staggered into a restroom - we sampled LOTS of beer - and was having a satisfactory relief moment, when to my astonishment, a cleaning lady walked in. She ignored me and went about doing her thing, so I did too, but I must admit to a certain momentary performance anxiety. I was glad she wasn't all that attractive.
We stayed that night at a friends parents house. I wasn't really looking forward to it because I heard he was pretty well off and I didn't want to deal with … well, having to behave and mind my manners.
It turns out he was HYSTERICALLY funny and we all laughed so hard we hurt. He told crazy stories about stalking his wife before they got married….for EIGHT YEARS!! On his first date, he took her swimming in the ocean, even though she couldn't swim. They both almost drowned. He kept telling story after story that had us completely breathless. He spoke of learning how to properly apologize to his wife, so I asked him to teach me. Everyone howled at my ineptitude, but I think I finally mastered it. It's a sort of bowing, shoulder collapsing, groveling move performed on one's knees.
We had unbelievable sushi that we made hand rolls out of, and drank beer and sake til we were blind. I decided it was a good time to take photos of them, so I set up some lights. All went well until toward the end when I knocked over my tripod and it punched a hole in their shoji screen. I was HORRIFIED, HUMILIATED, and EMBARRASSED beyond belief. I thought my host was going to have a heart attack, he laughed so hard. Instead of even attempting to make me feel better, he told me (truthfully!) they had just replaced the shoji THREE DAYS prior to our arrival. I'm not sure I have ever seen human beings laugh so hard and long…and unfortunately, at my expense. He thanked me for bringing such good joy and laughter to his home, and then handed me a pen and asked me to SIGN IT! He added that he thought it might be a good idea to punch MORE holes since it brought so much joy into his home! ugh….I could crawl under a tatami.
He was truly one of the most remarkable human beings I have ever met. He and his wife were so gracious, warm, and wonderful. The epitome of what a host should be.
The banter between he and his wife was legendary. He turned to her and said, "Well…you know you are the sunshine of my life!" COMPLETELY DEADPAN, she looked at him and quipped,"It's always about you, isn't it!!" The house just shook with laughter.
Off to bed we went around 1AM, heads spinning with booze and revelry.
We had to be up at 6:30 AM… again…. I have completely crushed my previous record for consecutive days with a hangover. When I get home, I'm not gonna drink for a month…whew. But it won't be on this trip…we tour a Sake Brewery tomorrow!
  • Listening to: the hum of the G5
  • Drinking: Heineken
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Watchers of the Week! #1

Fri Sep 13, 2013, 6:24 PM
Basically, the first 10 people to comment on this journal will get a journal feature here from me. I am a dummy!
These will probably go fast, so hurry and comment! :eager: by darkmoon3636
I will call this "Watchers of the week" because this offer is only for my watchers! :woohoo:
Features By Plentyofpoints-d5xq0d8 by artvelocity

Guard and scythe by mrcoldflame901Smile (Kyoto x Ivy) by mrcoldflame901
Stay Out of my Shed by InvaderVex278Jade by InvaderVex278
Yummy by FangirlOfArtsynessDreamcast, NES, and Pippin by FangirlOfArtsyness
my oc radioactive as a furry by radioactivewolfmanradioactive by radioactivewolfman
Pandora's Box Contest Entry by azuriinAnnabeth von Bouthe Page Doll by azuriin
Tonight, you DIE by BurloroThings get better by Burloro
Since two of the deviants I

replied to didn't respond; those are empty.

You can now choose what you want to be featured instead of me featuring it.

As I said before this will be a weekly thing, every Wednesday I will post one of these journals! :squee:

When I respond to your comment with a number please send me a note of the deviations you want featured. If you don't, I will not feature you.

Make sure you check out my group! Art-Zone, I plan on having some sort of contest there soon. :D
Due to the crazy fast response to this, I will try to do one of these every week. :la: So you can have a chance of being featured!

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watchers feature #20 black and white

Journal Entry: Wed Feb 20, 2013, 1:58 PM
Humming Bird by Nat-photography
Crossing the Bay by tracy-MeWere You Happy (Steady The Buffs) by WintersRead
Salem by Mademoiselle-Pixelleheldentor noedit street vienna art by fredddaheadForest by LusiaLunatyczka
Beautiful eyes in black and white by AlmaSPhoto
Cat face by Pictures-and-Pie
Railroads To Nowhere by onceuponatime08pigeon lounge by antonis1312
Architectural by SnailPropulsionLabsFilm - XXIV - no color needed by Picture-Bandit
Winter Water by Mystery-Kitty

This Journal Skin was designed by Night-Beast
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