ASKtheARTIST Interview TranscriptASKtheARTIST Interview Transcript2 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
ASKtheARTIST Interview with JohnSu
12/16/12: 7:00pm PST
Welcome to ASKtheARTIST. My name is *thefluffyshrimp and today I have the great privilege to interview `JohnSu, a very talented illustrator and creator of many well-known works on deviantART.
Thank you for presenting us with this opportunity to interview you, JohnSu.
~Chrono-King asks "JohnSu how did you come up with your name?"
While I was still in the womb, I would suggest names into my mother's mind. At the time, I didn't know any better, so I just coughed "CHON! CHON!" So when I was born, I was given the name "John Su."
~terricon4 asks "What recent things have you been working on at R5, if you can tell us that is."
My First FanficMy First Fanfic5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
My First Fanfic
by John Su
Sonic the Hedgehog ran very quickly down the hall to where the fire was coming from. While running he ducked into a rolling spin and made a sound like "@@@@@@@!" so he could dodge the fireball lasers.
At the top of the staircase he stood up and shouted at the top of the staircase "Sephiroth!" The man with long hair turned slowly and with a flash of his sword removed Sonic's nipples from his body.
"OUCH that hurts!1" cried Sonic, hurting. "Looks like I will need the power of the CHAOS CRYSTAL for this opponent!" and he raised up a handful of glowing gems.
The light from the jewels summoned all the legendary pokemon in the world together and they fused together into a Pyschic Ghost Dragon Pokemon. "LEAVE THIS TO ME, SONIC THE HEDGEHOG!" it said in the voice a thousand monsters, and shot a giant Hadouken at Sephiroth.
Sephiroth bounced it back with a spin of his blade, and it hit the Psy-Gho-Dra-Mon in the face, crashing him to the floor and half-crushing
Languid Epiphanymy blue-hearted lady,Languid Epiphany2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
why let Spring
slip through your body;
to ricochet towards the end
of gravitation for dreams
to enter your lungs?
why let yourself
be battered by autumn rain;
so that the stars could
feast on what was left of you
and your dispassionate body?
why let your bones scatter
the earth; to give birth to
fireweeds and wildflowers
while the moss perforates
your marrows like river stones?
why let gods rattle
the moons at your ankles;
for the sun to scoop your spine
and drown your skin in fire?
why let your heart break loose
from your ribcage?
why run away from a house
sewn together by ancestral teeth
a house built with cupped veins
and hands open for your weeping?
for a man that leaves promises
hanging by the edge of his nails?
a man that never realized
how a sacrifice was meant
for the prayers of
those who learned how to give
why, blue-hearted lady,
why tear your wounds
and build your grave?
yet only time could tell
when I could
This is a Love PoemI must admit to less than innocent thoughtsThis is a Love Poem2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
about the lithe lengths of your frame
and the mysteries crowding in your eyes,
clouded over with ecstasy (or affection,
that word in the English language
forgotten in place of more life-threatening
controversies, taking value over the
fire-warmed embers of necessity and want).
We cannot be ephemeral, not when life
is the longest prison sentence I’ve been
inflicted with, and I still remember the scent
of your surreptitious skin when we
renamed conspiracies as derivations from
our [single] definitive state of unliving,
an ineffable defiance of
misery’s inevitable subjugation.
O Jesus my GodHappy the man whose cares are noneO Jesus my God2 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
but that of wandering bout the lazy sun
whose eyes are roving not towards the things which bounds the heart downwards
quite like an anchor upon a ship
whose cargoes weigh heavy upon the docks
He is free from things that bring about
the wrinkled worries which etches above the brows
(this does not exempt the youth)
O yes his mind is like the cotton clouds
whose flocks are grazing upon the skies
slowly, dispersing to find what may
cause it to stir then fade away
I should like to know how the clouds are stirred away
like sugar or cream in tea or coffee
(I'd rather the latter for I do not take kindly to bitter things)
O yes then he allows his sighs to be
not of worry but of these
of youthful cares and wonders upon
the glories which are set on this earth
who but God from which things are given birth?
O yes it is He
who causes me
to wonder and wonder and wonder unceasingly
the crease which stirs the quiet string of river runs deep without fish or any amphibi
ellipsisshe goes to sleepellipsis2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
clawing at her chest with pinpoint accuracy
for an emptiness she can’t describe,
but hates all the same. tomorrow
she will write a letter: “dear boy,
i always wanted to be somebody’s
flowery poem, but the verses carved in my arms
are riddled with ugly clichés. & you are why
i don’t sleep through the night. if
we were a language, i was the
subordinating conjunction, you were
i remember you in staccato
conclusions, solemn absences
RuminationShe’s not made of bonesRumination2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
(or sinew, or keratin,
and her back doesn’t elope a spine
to lean on, her weight
heavier than earth-bones.
The gushes of oil spills flowing like rain
is the only rivulet in her tears,
the fuel in her blood.
Conjoined with the nuts and bolts found
in the pits of Father’s attic
jaundice skin's impenetrable,
even to the flickering of the candle’s flame
hair rough as ash and long as veins--
she was a battlefield.
But there’s a heart that beats
somewhere in her chest,
rattling like broken teeth;
trying to shake its enigma loose
trying to thump,
trying to pump,
trying to bump
Like the dust in her lashes,
the forty years of silence in her lungs.
The cold of iron and tin and copper
turning to rust
the unexplainable famine
in her throat.
The yearning to read trembling lips.
The passion to remember.
The urge to touch
The will to listen.
All she ever wanted
in a body of loneliness.
The wind beneath her p
Dead and goneIf you were dead and gone, my love,Dead and gone4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I'd love you all the same.
And, if your heart no longer beat,
mine still would hold your flame.
If you lay 'neath this cold grey earth
and rotten in the ground,
I'd still be drawn to hold you close:
this love, Death can't confound.
If you no longer lived, my love,
my love would not grow cold.
A heart that's split in two can hold
as much love as a whole.
CaleaShe's brewing that teaCalea2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
from the island
that grabs your hair
and pulls you into
the street. I'd drink
it to get rid of
my wild dogs; all that
lonely guilt and
with more in my year
before the steam catches
our senses. Time is less
of a straight line
and more of a blowtorch.
It seals us up before
we can flaunt our disease.
A paranoid schizophrenic
doesn't know he's sick; the junkie
believes what he says.
We nakedly trust our eyes
we nakedly trust our bodies.
It's all enough to kill a storm
and make a coat
from its hair.
My blue-green iris
grows with my mouth
on tiny strings
and tiny thoughts
as my body drinks,
I love youI love youI love you3 years ago in Romance More Like This
I know I shouldn't say it first
But without you
I have nothing
I miss you
Sorry maybe I shouldn't had said
But I had to
I needed to
I wanted to
But it's not like you'll see this anyway
So why should I care if I say it here
But I do mean what I say
I just want to see you again
Even if it's just a photo
I'm starting to forget you
How you talk
How you make me feel so happy
With just one look
It's scaring me
I don't want to forget my first real love
'cause you are all of my dreams come true
The Painter And The VeteranHe wanted to pull out the painThe Painter And The Veteran3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
with a syringe, as if it were
black jelly that had accumulated
underneath his skin. This was
how morning welcomed him.
On saturday nights, he was
the kind of man who went around town
painting murals with a can. They
were gorgeous, especially when city
employees melted them with hose-water.
In America you can find dollar bills
stuck deep in the cracks between
sidewalks; you can find people stuck
deep in the cracks between
You can also find people inside
said buildings, inside beds,
and only one
night, the painter was approached
by a hairy young man with combat
boots who claimed to have fought in
Vietnam. The veteran put a grimy
paw on the painter's shoulder and
asked if he knew why airplanes
had so many windows.
The painter didn't
of them had flown
The veteran slurred with distinction that
before windows were on planes,
they were closed-off
plastic flying tubes. But,
one day every p
OhFingers in front ofOh3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
laced in light.
The arid, shifting
desert of your palms.
Sand in the beachgrass,
Listen to the shell:
it will teach
what is alive.
Tell your children it was the ocean.
The whole world
can hear you breathe.
Are you innocent yet?
and long, dark hair.
May she never hear the name
that you whisper through the dark.
Untitled part 1Untitled part 16 years ago in Horror More Like This
It was late at night when I was sitting in my study, reading a large, seven hundred page book. The fire in my fireplace was slowly dying down, and I felt my eyelids drooping slightly. I had been reading all night, and was almost finished with the book. Just a few more pages, I told myself. A few more pages and you can sleep. I found myself reading the same sentence over and over again. My eyes closed involuntarily and I nearly drifted to sleep.
A few minutes later, however, I woke with a start, cursing at myself for falling asleep. I turned to my book to continue reading. It took me a few minutes to shake of the remaining drowsiness and to comprehend what I was seeing on the page of my book. The print was no longer in black ink, but in blood red. I stared at it, wondering if perhaps I was still asleep. As I stared, the letters began to swell, as if water had touched the page and made the ink run. But then the page began to leak, the red ink rising from the paper and dripping off the ed
Chapter 17: The day before...Blaze woke up and looked across his room at Kewashii Furea, he smiled at the thought of his new attained powers and how he could use them what new tactics he could learn and master. Blaze got up and got dressed and left his apartments, he walked down the street and wondered what he should do today... the last day before the tournament. Blaze continued on his way down the streets and he heard Itsyuada's voice coming from somewhere, he followed it to a dojo that had the door cracked open a bit and he peeked inside. Itsyuada was knelt beside Kuro and was talking to Kuro, Kuro sat cross legged on the floor and his eyes were shut. Blaze walked in;Chapter 17: The day before...4 years ago in Settings More Like This
"Hey Itsyuada what are you two doing in here?" Blaze said as he slid open the door to the dojo,
"Shhh! Quiet blaze, I'm helping Kuro out" Itsyuada said in an aggravated tone at Blaze.
"Oh sorry helping him with what" Blaze asked quietly,
"he came by the medical unit when I was getting my jaw checked out and he looked angry
UndercurrentPeople hang lightbulbs,Undercurrent3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
made from wire
and amber bottles,
out their windows
and beneath flowerpots.
You can almost see
swimming just below
We are watching
We are watching
on the heart and lungs;
for ink that drifts
through your veins.
We are watching
young men build rafts
and telephone poles.
Waiting for a
to carry them
out to sea.