dA is Not Selling Your Works to Third Party Royalty Free Hot Topic selling artist's works without permission
A Tumblr post has been circulating, where Hot Topic is selling artist's works as T-shirts in their store, including popular fan art without the artist's permission, deviant artists included. It caught on wildfire when one user linked to deviantART's Submission Policy, stating users gave permission to dA by agreeing to their Terms of Service thereby allowing dA to sell it to third party royalty free.
This is false and inaccurate!
"We appreciate the rallying of the community around the rights of this artist. Ri
Animals, Plants, & Nature Week Hello reader!
I am Nelleke (https://www.deviantart.com/nelleke), and I was asked to write an article about forest photography. Which is my favorite subject of photography! There is something about them that is timeless. Of course there's a reason forests get used so much as a backdrop in stories and movies... They can give you the feeling something magical is waiting just around the corner.
In this article I will discuss several points, some a bit longer than others. They are Composition, Conditions, Equipment and Editing.
You might have seen a beautiful forest scene once, but noticed after taking a picture that it looks ver
Lace looked at the love potion and the charm in front of him. He decided it would be better to use both of them. He was not sure if the normal doses for humans would work on him. From his observations, the other students were strongly affected by emotions while he was not. He carefully liked people and trusted them and could be wary of others. But concepts like "love" or "hate" were a mystery to him. He knew what fear was, or at least he believed he knew. It occurred to the weaver that his emotions seem to be weaker compared to the other students. When Orielle or Lucy were happy, their voice changed, they smiled, and were even more friendly t
- Sapnavau, kad buvau tarakonas, kuris sapnavo, kad buvo traktorius, kuris sapnavo, kad buvo elfas, kuris sapnavo, kad buvo žarsteklis, kuris sapnavo, kad buvo sukilėlių vadas, kuris sapnavo, kad buvo rąstas, kuriame gyveno kirmėlaitė, kuri sapnavo, kad gyvena rąste, kuris sapnuoja, kad yra sukilėlių vadas, kuris sapnuoja, kad yra žarsteklis, kuris sapnuoja, kad yra elfas, kuris sapnuoja, kad yra traktorius, kuris sapnuoja, kad yra tarakonas, kuris sapnuoja, kad yra Patujis. Patujis sapne pabudo ir pasakojo, kad sapnavo, jog buvo tarakonas, kuris sapnavo, kad buvo traktor
Vienąkart Veikėjas ėjo keliu per lauką ir pastebėjo į kažkokius virbus įsipainiojusią voverę. Jis išpainiojo žvėrelį, o tada voverė prašneko ir tarė:
- Tu man padėjai, už tai išpildysiu vieną tavo norą. Beje, noro išpildyti daugiau norų pateikti negalima, tada nieko išvis negausi. Prašom nesukčiauti.
Veikėjas nenustebo, kad voverė kalba, ir susimąstė (kas šiaip turėtų būt įtartina, nes visiems žinoma, kad voverės nekalba). Kaip žinote, vaikai, normal&
Lace had never gotten a gift before. Weavers were not gifting for the sake of making the other happy. If a weaver was giving something to another weaver without being asked to do so, it always happened because they were convinced the other was going to need it one day.
But now Lucy had given Lace a sweatshirt. The young apprentice had of course bleached it before he put it on and fortunately, Lucy had not minded it. It was not that Lace didn't like colours. He had no preferences when it came to colours, actually. But he wore grey because he was a weaver. Only masters of the guild wore colours and those colours indicated their speciality. But
Ji pakilo ir išėjo. Įėjo į mišką, kurio ligi tol niekada nebuvo. Kuo toliau ėjo, tuo aiškiau matė, kad kyla kalnas (kurio prieš tai irgi niekada nebuvo). Ant kalno stovėjo pilis. Ji nusišypsojo, nes pilis buvo panaši į tas, kurios būdavo rodomos siaubo filmuose. „Dabar kaip išlįs koks vampyras!“ - pamanė Ji ir net garsiai susijuokė, nes tokiom nesąmonėm netikėjo.
O štai jau ir durys. Ji nė kiek nesvyruodama įėjo vidun. Tamsiame kaip katakomba koridoriuje telkšojo kraujo balos, ant sienų
- Jie iš mūsų nesityčios! - pareiškė ponas E.
Ir susimąstė. Kas tie jie? Ir kas tie mes? Didžiuliame kambaryje buvo tik ponas E. ir kėdė. Daugiau nebuvo nieko. Ir pastate, kuriame buvo šis kambarys, daugiau nebuvo nieko. Ir lauke, kuriame stovėjo šis pastatas, kiek tik akis užmatė, daugiau nebuvo nieko.
Ponas E. nuvertė kėdę ir išėjo.
Kurį laiką paėjęs pagalvojo, kad gal visgi kėdės nuversti nederėjo. Apsisuko ir grįžo atgal.
- Hmmm... - tarė ponas E. ir
Dear Jesus Christ,
I went to bed at 3:16 last night and started thinking about JohnJohn who pissed away every paycheck he ever made and only fucked virgins, John who beat up a woman's husband and spent a Christmas in jail, John who shot himself on the front porch of his mother's house. I don't think anyone shed a tear except her. I heard she shed many tears as she cleaned up the mess.
I thought about when I first met him. It was at church. He and I were both eight. He sat next to me and we stared at that stained glass image of you in your white robe with your outstretched, loving arms, and he leaned into me and asked, "Do you bel
Back in his cabin, Nemo was still not sure what had just happened. He wondered about Lady Riddle and her sudden changes of mood. He did know he had quite some influence on human women, but this?
Also, what was wrong with that angelic being? With her red wings, black clothes and those creepy white eyes, she looked like an fury or demon of wrath. Nemo had always imagined angels to be of pearly white light and warm hearted. Maybe that Angel was a fallen one.
What had he gotten himself into...
There was an almost shy knock on the door.
When he opened, he saw Riddle, smiling weakly at him.
"May I come in?", she asked.
My grandfather sits in a wheelchair by the window in the old people's home with his chin leaned into his chest, mumbling incessantly and unintelligibly to himself and drooling a little from the right corner of his mouth. Mom can't come here anymore. She just breaks down at the sight of him so I sometimes come by myself and sit with him in silence for a while.
It's a sad end to a long and hard life, and I morbidly think to myself that if a political party stepped forth now with the legalization of euthanasia on its agenda, I'd vote for it. After two strokes and a hemorrhage, topped with severe senile dementia, what is the point of letting peo
She stared at her blank computer screen, fingers ready to type away. But she just stared. And stared. And stared. I watched her from across the room in the dark red couch. I dug into my little cup of ice cream with my spoon and shoved it in my mouth. I swallowed and continued to watch her. "I don't know why you're over there trying to force a story out," I finally said, reaching for the blanket on the table and draping it over my body. "It's obvious it's not going to work."
She blew out an exasperated huffy breath and flexed her fingers. "Because, Nina! I need the job! And if I can't impress the boss with a good story, I won't get it!
The teacher stands
before the class,
a ruler in one hand.
She taps the board
and pulls out a marker,
writing in black ink
define normal for me."
Not a sound.
Not a peep.
All the students do is stare,
glassy eyed and hardly there.
Once again she taps the board.
Class is still in session."
blink their eyes.
They look again at the board.
She writes her question down.
"Please define 'normal' for me."
No one dares to raise a hand,
but at least they are awake.
The timid girl, who sits in the back,
her hair dyed brightly purple and green,
barely dares to raise