Shop Forum More Submit  Join Login
About Deviant Artist Dang NguyenMale/Australia Recent Activity
Deviant for 11 Years
Needs Core Membership
Statistics 36 Deviations 1,731 Comments 9,063 Pageviews

Newest Deviations

Jikan ga keika by Galad-Damodred Jikan ga keika :icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 0 1 Yama no ue ni ame ga furimasu. by Galad-Damodred Yama no ue ni ame ga furimasu. :icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 3 2 Hinode by Galad-Damodred Hinode :icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 1 0 O-Torii by Galad-Damodred O-Torii :icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 0 5
Jack o' the Lantern
"Flowers!  A lantern to light your way?"
It was late in October, the wind turning cold, the daylight going before you could get any real use out of it.  The wind hissed down the grey streets lined with shops whose fronts were adorned with garish orange cardboard pumpkins and paper bats.  It was a wind that blew knives, a wind that could flay the skin from you if you weren't careful.  Jack ignored it; it blew right through him.
"Flowers!  A lantern to light your way?"
Jack spared the girl by the road a glance.  She was younger than him, with long, shaggy black hair and eyes like a summer flame, golden and shimmering.  Her dress, a scrap of silken stuff wrapped around her thin body, fluttered in the wind.  Young rosebuds filled the basket of her bicycle, and a large cardboard box of small, carved jack-o'-lanterns was at her feet.  He wondered vaguely where she had gotten new roses this time of year.
:icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 0 1
If I Forget Thee, Oh Vietnam
It's hot,
And it smells,
And far too many people.
It's damp,
And so humid,
And those dreaded mosquitoes.
But still,
On the streets,
You can find every colour.
The scents
And the sounds
Overpower the senses.
Da Lat
It's mild
And so pretty,
Decked out in bright flowers.
The forests
And mountains,
All shrouded in mist.
The French
Built their villas
Among the green hilltops.
Nice people,
Great coffee:
What more do you need?
Hoi An
Dirt roads
And old houses
Out of another era.
Old temples
And silk lanterns
Line the bright roadsides.
Fine clothes
And fine paintings
And the world's best fried rice.
From silk
To great noodles:
Everything you need.
:icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 1 0
'Sail away...' by Galad-Damodred 'Sail away...' :icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 0 11
I remember the day Death came for me -
It was an evening in July, I think.
He was tall, he was beautiful,
And looked so warm in a cashmere coat.
How was I to know?
How could I know what he would do to me?
All that I did, I did for him.
All that I didn't do -
Well, that's my business,
And the rest, as they say, is history.
They always say,
"There are many kinds of love.
And when the passion is gone,
Thank God for men like him!
When the hot, selfish flame dies,
Solid as stone, he'll remain."
So we went on like that,
Pretending to be happy together,
Only eating milk chocolate;
So normal, so ordinary, so respectable.
And for him, I put away the magic:
The incense sticks crumbled in their box.
For our respectable hearth and home,
The cards went unread and dusty.
The ring I wore on my left hand
Grew bright as the henna sigils on my palms faded.
Death wears many guises:
Death of the soul, death of the heart, death of the mind.
My death wore the face of love -
For to gain another is to lose yo
:icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 0 1
The Hunger: Introduction
During the war with the Dark Lady of the North, all dreams and wonders were put aside for a more visceral reality.  Open war had broken out in the northern lands, and dread sorceries unleashed upon the unsuspecting Continent, grown fat and complacent with peace.  The armies of the Dark Lady marched southwards, and shadows lengthened in every realm.  Fear marched ahead of them, and every joy was diminished.  Magic, long used to create life and beauty, was now turned to the darker purpose of war.  War against a creature of hunger and hollowness that spread and consumed and destroyed.
    The kingdoms of the south sent aid to the front, in the form of swords and spears and staffs, knowing that they would be next to be sacrificed to the hunger of the Dark Lady if the northern realms fell.  The berserkers of Taqan, the spirit-walking Shamayah and the storm-calling Makudi fought and died side by side against the
:icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 0 0
Journals of a Runaway, Part 4
From the Journals, vol. XI
Hotel Avril, 112 Rue Ambrose, Paris
25th of December
Just after dinner

It is strange to be so near my old home.  I can see it from my window: 135 Rue Ambrose.  An elegant turn of the century townhouse with lilac trees on the street outside.
I don't know why I returned to Paris.  I have memories of sparkling Christmases spent waltzing in Vienna, Christmases in St Petersburg with the streets all aglow, both somehow magical and tawdry all at once.  Paris at Christmas holds no magic for me after Christmases spent at sea, making love with the vault of heaven arching high overhead, the tiny dhow out of view of land in any direction.  The world flocks to see Europe's centre of elegance and culture, and I have spent my life fleeing it.
And yet here I am.  Home again, home again.  Jiggety-jig.
I saw my father today.  He passed me in the street, eyes averted.  In my
:icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 0 8
Journals of a Runaway, Part 3
From the Journals, vol. VI
A park bench in Highgate, London
22nd of October
Late afternoon

It is a cold place, England.  I hadn’t ever been so far north until a year ago.  After years of traveling around the Mediterranean, I visit the British Isles!  I have memories of Parisian snow, the silent cold of a night in a rose-red city half as old as time, the biting winds off the Atlantic, but nothing like the grey, drizzly, foggy weather of a London autumn.
Yesterday, a little girl – attracted, perhaps, by my warm scarlet cloak, like some flag that calls out to the world: “I am not like you” – asked me where my mummy and daddy were.  I told her I didn’t know, and she ran off to rejoin her friends in their game of running-and-yelling.  It must have been an age since I thought of my mother, or my father, who was generally the louder of the pair.  I know I shouldn’t care, but I can
:icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 0 0
Journals of a Runaway, Part 2
From the Journals, vol. III
A hammock on a beach on Santorini, Greece
2nd of July
Just after breakfast

It is so hot today!  Good thing I’m on an island, because without the constant sea breeze, I’m afraid I’d bake.
Everything seems slower in the summertime.  Colours are brighter, lights and sounds and scents are more intense and everything is radiant and golden, yet the days drift by in a blur of fun and contented forgetfulness, and one feels as though life has always been a lazy-hazy summer day.  Lying here in the shade of the palms with the wind in my hair and cooling the sweat on my skin, listening to the sigh of the ocean on golden sands, I feel as if I could live forever and ever.
Unfortunately, that won’t be the case.  Poor Kris will be disappointed when time comes for me to leave.  I hope we won’t have a repeat of the Marseille incident, although Kris strikes me as smart enough to figure it
:icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 0 0
Journals of a Runaway, Part 1
From the Journals, vol. I
A crummy flat on the Butte de Montmartre, Paris
16th of March

I picked a good time to run away.  Spring is blowing up from the Mediterranean, bringing with it the scents of stirring sap, rich earth, sea-salt and the distant sands of Africa and the sacred Levantine deserts.  Sometimes I think I can hear voices on it; the lilt of the Midi, so different from the clipped Parisian vowels, snatches of Arabic and Kiswahili and throaty Gabon French borne across the sea.
It is a good wind to ride into the world.  It's a wind that makes coats and skirts fly, a wind for young lovers to dance in, a wind that carries the promise of change and a hint of exotic lands to coax people out of the coat and hats and scarves and holes they have hidden in all winter.
This is the wind I will fly on.  I'm a little bit scared; who wouldn't be?  But this is it.  My life is this moment.  I never thou
:icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 0 0
DiKeih1's Writer's Meme by Galad-Damodred DiKeih1's Writer's Meme :icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 0 8
The Hidden
...and ye shall endure until the ending of the world, a creature of darkness hungering ever for the light, but ye shall comprehend it not, and it shall burn thee and thou shalt never again dwell amidst the life and joy that thou didst build and love.  Thou hast usurped power divine, yet from this day forth, it shall not serve thee: never shalt thou create or sustain, only twist and pervert that which the Most High hath brought forth for to magnify His glory.  Envy shall be thy lot, greed shall be thy master, pride thy folly and death thy domain.  In the hands of the servants of the True Lord, His tools and works shall blind thine eyes and sear thy flesh, and His words shall be pain beyond telling to thine ears. From now until the end of all things, the will of the Most High be done...
-The curse of King Suleiman bin David the Wise upon Lord Harsiese
There are estimated to be about eight hundred thousand haemophages in the world today, most of them i
:icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 0 0
Camping in Stormy Valley
‘You’re saying you were personally responsible for the Destruction?’ said Kay sceptically.
‘Well, not personally,’ said Andra, staring up at the tent canopy.  ‘But I was part of the ritual.  The main part, actually.  They called me the Key.  But there were others there, too.  Elsa and Farrago and Ibrahim and all the rest of them.  They were the scholars and wizards.  I was just a conduit, a funnel through which they could pour their power into World, and since they were linked with World itself, it was like running its own power through it.  It was like – you know the sign of the World Serpent?  A snake eating its own tail?  It was like that.  They were feeding World its own life-force.  I didn’t know what was going on at the time, I was only seven.  But in the fifteen years since then, I’ve studied the effects of
:icongalad-damodred:Galad-Damodred 0 0



Dang Nguyen
Current Residence: Easeful the forest, easeful its mansions perfected.
Favourite genre of music: Classical
Favourite style of art: Pre-Raphaelite
Favourite cartoon character: Daria Morgendorffer
Personal Quote: "I'll see what I can do."


No journal entries yet.


Add a Comment:
h-drawer Featured By Owner Aug 14, 2013  Professional Digital Artist
thanks for the watch :D
WanderingArcher Featured By Owner Apr 21, 2012
Love your signature. I'm going to have to remember that for the next time someone asks me if I'm always a smartass. :thumbsup:
dragondoodle Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2011  Hobbyist Digital Artist
dylazuna Featured By Owner Jun 29, 2011  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for faving The Forest Pool :)
g-galore Featured By Owner Jun 26, 2011
thanks for the :+fav:
sheeploop Featured By Owner Jun 22, 2011  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thank you for :+fav:!!!:iconsparklesplz::iconhappyblueplz::iconsparklesplz:
AG-sArt Featured By Owner Jun 7, 2011  Professional General Artist
Thanks for the :+fav: :XD:
Yuki-Frozen Featured By Owner May 22, 2011  Student
thank for the fav :heart:
sssk76 Featured By Owner May 21, 2011  Professional General Artist
Thanks for fave.
FrankCP Featured By Owner May 21, 2011
Thank you very much for the fav :)
Add a Comment: