Introducing the DeviantArt Stylus IRLMore Like This
For nearly 15 years, DeviantArt has been at the forefront of digital art creation, a cutting-edge icon in the high-tech art world. As part of our continuous goal to combine the best in art and technology, DeviantArt has created an innovative tool—the DeviantArt Stylus IRL—that brings the sophistication of digital art into the real world.
A legacy of Innovation
For nearly 15 years, DeviantArt has been at the forefront of digital art creation, a cutting-edge icon in the high-tech art world. As part of our continuous goal to combine the best in art and technology, DeviantArt has created an innovative tool that brings the sophistication of digital art into the real world.
Using the innovative, patent
The Creation Of Everything Chapter ILong ago, at the tip-top Mt. Gilliamarakev, stood a woman, beautiful in all aspects, whether outwardly or inwardly. She stood there, looking at the dark matter all around her, Chaos. Mt. Gilliamarakev was very high, higher than anything, reaching ever so slowly and majestically up to the skies. 'Twas higher than Wiz Khalifa. The only occupant of this majestic magykform was that beautiful woman. As she stared down into the blackness, she contemplated about her life, which never ends. Yes, she was immortal, because she was a deity. Of who? Of what? She wondered, and a glint in her already twinkling, impossibly coloured eyes was seen, and this amazing apparition ran off to find what she needed.More Like This
She came back later with a mound of beautiful red liquid, glistening in a light which its source is indefinable. It was not a container of, yet it was a liquid. Such was the power of this woman. She literally shaped that mound of sticky-sweet red liquid, and she soon formed a shape, which slightly
Conscious Stream From The Chemical PlantThe following is a non-fictional account of a conscious stream that took place during my exploration of a water treatment plant.More Like This
I was at the office, looking at the wall-sized whiteboard. Around 200 buildings stared back at me, numbered and color-coded. I've been to pretty much all of them, but one unfamiliar number stuck out to me. #41. What a boring number. MUD Platte West, that's a Metropolitain Utilities District. I look up the address and drive. Just to go see it. And by the way, this isn't even a slow day for me, this is mostly what I do.
I drive West for 35 minutes, which is forever in Omaha time. One road, Q St, hills, meadows, an elementary school, more hills. 41 is easy to spot, it's a huge concrete thing in the middle of nowhere. I take the access road to the guard shack, he smiles, lifts the arm and I'm in. the tile is obnoxiously clean. &
Argus ApocraphexOf the many tiny beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead, two fell down, further soaking his already dampened brow. Suspended, he floated upside-down in a padded room, dreaming without consciousness of his body or its position in space.More Like This
His mind reeled from slide to slideimages of adolescence pooling together and then streaming into an old time film: The Life and Times of Donald A. Silver. The yellowed silent movie showed a young man smiling and leaning against an old Chevrolet sedan. Cigarettes burnt the corner, and he was dancing with the woman he'd asked to marry him. But in the center of the shot, a blur grew from the inside of the lilies on her wrist. A quick rewind to remove the obstruction, but instead it continued to grow across the bare chest of a flexing boy at the public pool. And finally, it consumed the picture and gnawed it to the pit, leaving behind a carcass to rot in its old age.
The man awo