Shop Forum More Submit  Join Login
About Literature / Artist Administrator mindful coyoteUnknown Groups :iconhq: hq
DeviantArt Headquarters
Recent Activity
Deviant for 9 Years
Core Member 'til Hell freezes over
Statistics 616 Deviations 18,812 Comments 706,207 Pageviews

Random from Inspire.

Simpler Times (WAB6165) by WayneBenedet Simpler Times (WAB6165) :iconwaynebenedet:WayneBenedet 219 40 Above the treetops by LordLJCornellPhotos Above the treetops :iconlordljcornellphotos:LordLJCornellPhotos 341 31
Is Inevitable

Musical Inspiration

We all have dreams we want to accomplish. Problems we're hoping to turn around. Sometimes as it goes on month after month, even year after year, and we don't see anything changing we loose hope. It's easy to get discouraged and think it's never going to happen. This is as good as it gets so I'll just learn to live with it. But when it happens and you don't like it you feel defeated. You feel cheated. 
Change is a part of life. It's easy to get discouraged, even bitter. Sometimes we look at pieces in our lives that just don't make sense. But look at it as a page in a beautiful book. Your book. Dog eared, torn and even burnt but it was meant to be there. It was meant to be written and can be re-written but it can't even come to be without first putting pen to paper.
Change will change us. It doesn't leave us the same. Even though you do
:iconkovowolf:KovoWolf 20 17
Winged Winter Friends by KatieHofgard Winged Winter Friends :iconkatiehofgard:KatieHofgard 2,538 48 Neist Point Lighthouse by DominikaAniola Neist Point Lighthouse :icondominikaaniola:DominikaAniola 281 31 florEYE by Roseum florEYE :iconroseum:Roseum 153 5 street in the rain by Fel-X street in the rain :iconfel-x:Fel-X 1,096 89
The Book
        Alette bounced with impatience and tucked on her mother's sleeve. "Can I go to bed yet? Can I? It's almost half past eight. Can I go to bed? It's my bedtime. I wanna go to bed. I WANNA GO TO BEEEED! MO-OOOM!"
        Finally her mother gave up on the bills and looked down at the six-year-old girl, who crossed her arms and returned the look reproachfully.
        "It's my bedtime," Alette repeated, scolding her mother for not paying attention to the hour.
        Trying not to chuckle at the scowl her daughter gave her, she got up and nodded, "You're right. Did you brush your teeth?"
        Alette bared her teeth and tilted her head upward for her mother to inspect.
        "Hmm... I think you could do better than that. Go do it again, then I'll make your bed."
:iconbreaghaderryth:BreaghaDerryth 42 25
Dream by ademilo Dream :iconademilo:ademilo 5 0 Battle of Alta by Gejda Battle of Alta :icongejda:Gejda 309 60 Styx by Pandora-intheSKY Styx :iconpandora-inthesky:Pandora-intheSKY 491 52 Happy new year 2019 by Tohad Happy new year 2019 :icontohad:Tohad 1,176 27 Sister of the North by SC4V3NG3R Sister of the North :iconsc4v3ng3r:SC4V3NG3R 2,352 72
Retroactive Futurism
Jodi pushed open Jane's door, knocking while it was already swinging inwards and waited until it had closed behind her before speaking.
"Next Tuesday at quarter past noon he'll have stopped Bob McKibbon's heart." The announcement was followed by a left-handed flick of fingers down her right forearm towards Jane's desktop, the bits of data that comprised the intel briefing making the leap across the office to the mid-air display where it hovered for review.
"Christ, that's the third one of these this quarter," Jane scanned the document top to bottom, making notes in an action plan as she went. "We're going to have to go back a few years on this one too, increase junk food intake, sugar, closet alcohol consumption, we can't bend the timeline in any way that will require affecting anyone else's," She pushed back from the desk, turning her attention to Jodi, "do you have any idea how much of a pain in the ass this guy's becoming?"
"As long as he's in the pole position, we retroactively jus
:iconsrsmith:SRSmith 23 33
Cityscape Paris by smack-ART Cityscape Paris :iconsmack-art:smack-ART 15 3 Gosauseen sunset by xrust Gosauseen sunset :iconxrust:xrust 300 16

Random from DDs I Featured

The Business
     Wolf stopped gnawing on his third plate of Lapin Bleu d'Auvergne and pointed at Deer with his fork. "The problem," he said, "is that you've got a bum deal going on with your agent. You're paying him far too much if all he was able to get you was public affection. I mean, there's what-- thirteen million white-tailed deer in the United States alone, right?"
     Deer looked down at his glass, which was half-full of some white wine. He was a little unsure whether or not he liked it, as he didn't really know what made wine good or bad or even what type of wine it happened to be. He'd looked at the menu, become flummoxed by the French, and had simply asked the waiter (in English) for something vegetarian with a suitable wine. This was his second glass or maybe his third; he'd already forgotten.  He swished it around a little.
     "Thirty million, actually," said Deer. "Not thirteen."
:iconfackeltanz:fackeltanz 203 115
she stood on your dock
in black pearls,
and nothing more -
wet feet
and the asian dream.
you loved her
when the snow fell
on the dock,
the following winter
you couldn't
remember why.
:iconhippiehebe:HippieHebe 240 76
a shut in place
Meg's world is a world of uneven earth and blue skies, surface rock cracked and blown about by howling wind. She runs through wasteland, stumbles with purpose towards a wooden desk in the distance. She runs and runs, dirt and stones scuffing Mary Janes, but the writing desk is a finish line she can't reach.
"Why a writing desk?" her friend Alex says when she tells him about the dream. He emphasizes the question with a hand, waving the sandwich he's holding towards her before taking a bite.
She's left out details: how she is smaller, younger, a smooth-faced child with little hands dressed in her Sunday best instead of the twenty-one-year-old English major she knows herself to be. How the desk speaks of a familiarity she can't place and screams of a significance she can't understand. How she's been having the same dream for weeks and how it haunts her every waking moment with an urgency of impending consequence and menacing complexity that reminds her of Kafka.
Meg shrugs, the motion cau
:iconvocable:Vocable 109 24
Expedition Letters to Grace
Dear Grace,
You told me, back when we were visiting Peru and I was feeling down, that I would eventually find my calling in life. I write to you now to tell you, quite happily, that I have.
I can't explain much about it at the moment, only that my sudden absence from the university is for a reason. As I write, I am currently en route to New York City, to visit their museums and get a taste of the culture. I told you before how I wanted to visit New York while I had the chance, and now I travel with purpose.
I will say now, that while what I am about to do may seem strange to you, even mad, I can promise you that I am of sound mind and am determined to see my ambition through. Never before have I felt so strongly about the rightness of my decision. I will explain more in time. All I can tell you now is that I am launching my own expedition, and that it will be unorthodox, to say the least. I write you because you are my oldest and dearest friend, and I feel I can trust you.
Give my best
:iconcrackedmack:CrackedMack 130 24
Joel is Having a Bad Day
(And He Really Needs A Smoke)

JOEL, male, mid-twenties
BILLY, female, late teens to early twenties
Lights up on JOEL and BILLY, who are sitting outside on the back porch.  The three or four chairs are mismatched and seem to have been salvaged from the reject pile of a Salvation Army store.  A wooden coffee table hails from an indiscernible decade and holds a glass ashtray with dozens of cigarette butts sticking out of it. JOEL is smoking, trying to ignore BILLY.BILLY
You know, you really shouldn't; I heard somewhere that those things can make your teeth turn to mush and your fingers grow all bendy and twisted. One of my "friends"—she used to smoke a lot, too, and now her voice is so raspy and gritty we call her "Louie."  As in Armstrong.  The "Beautiful World" guy?  Hello, earth to Joel.  Come in, Joel.  Your lungs are…
Shove off!
Excuse me?
I said, shove off. 
:iconsame-side:Same-side 128 182
The Death of Venus
If there lived in the world a man
as rugged and as strong as I,
who could forbear with me yet go against,
who walked the black woods and the silver hills
mostly unafraid--
who savored salt and the lay of fur
with fingertips of dirt and weather,
whose lips rolled words like smoke, like fog-
I would creep into his arms in the prologue of the night,
gone sweet with the scent of new-cut hay,
alive with the nightjar's call.
:iconriparii:riparii 182 175
Old haunts
Numb fingers fumble at coppers
and a dodgy purple lighter which is unfit for purpose.
Giant splodges of stars
as if God - in a frolic of youthful exuberance –
went wild with a paintbrush.
Granite delicately held by shape and contour alone.
Slotted together: a melee of ankles, hips, spontaneous larynx.
Careless hopes, dreams wide, menthol cigarettes.
Thoughts all quiet.
:iconsquare-nine:square-nine 97 19
A simple measurement
can make a man
lose himself; a blurring, no more
than a grainy smudge
a scant 7.34mm long
this rice-grain, seven weeks old
with one hundred and twenty nine
heartbeats per minute
—all this, from a mere sesame-seed of a heart
:iconpseudometry:pseudometry 150 116
Tully and I each slump into a wooden rocker and kick off our muddy boots.  I flick my glowing plait over my shoulder, sigh at the task at hand.  Aunt Mona had, moments before, wrangled us inside only to send us to the front porch to shuck dinner's corn.
"'s'lot of corn," I say, gazing beyond the bucket to the open fields, and then further, to the trees at the start of the thicket.  I think of the watermelon, half carved in the kitchen, wipe the sweat from my brow, "'s'lot of sun."
Tully picks up a piece of corn, runs one finger along the corn silk sticking out of the top, then rubs it under her chin.  She lowers it, yanks the green husk away to reveal the soft yellow glow below.  
"Looks like gold," she says, twisting the freshly peeled ear before my eyes.
"Or dandelion seeds," I say.  She tosses the corn into the empty bucket, picks up another piece from the porch, hands it to me.
"Think we'll ever get to leave?" she asks.
:iconetre-aime:etre-aime 94 29
The Courier
     Eirik surveyed the impressive façade of the Temple of Myralo with concern, brow furrowed, fingers worrying the loose leather strap that kept his dagger in its sheath.  It was certainly a pretty building.  Everywhere he looked there was beauty to behold – from the intricately detailed vine-and-leaf patterns carved into the cloud-white exterior, to the elaborate mosaic of Prismeryl, Twin Deity of Beauty dominating the archway above the temple’s entrance.
     Hanging next to the ornately wrought gate into the temple’s courtyard was a “Help Wanted” sign.  It, too, was beautiful, written in a light script by a steady hand, and assuring any applicants that the pay would be more than sufficient.  Eirik didn’t doubt it.  If there was one thing the Prismeryllian priests and priestesses were known for (and there were many things they were known for) it was being as free with their pocketbo
:iconphoenixofthenet:phoenixofthenet 67 28
i hope to see you by YouInventedMe i hope to see you :iconyouinventedme:YouInventedMe 751 140
Minotaur 1.1
Death's acrid stench clung to the air around Varan. The sickly rot of infection bubbled up, oozing from his shoulder. There was nothing he could do chained to the stone wall with a guard at the door. Arrow splinters trapped in his flesh were killing him slowly.
His death should have been swift on the battlefield, but instead he was ambushed while he bathed. He'd cut down seven men before the poisoned arrow made him too weak to lift his ax. The poison wasn't lethal, unfortunately. Its purpose was to render him unconscious for interrogation.
His sire, the famous Conqueror of Brundan, must be laughing from the afterlife. Even shame failed to give Varan the strength to rise or curse his luck aloud.
Infection ravaged his mind and body. Time blurred and he no longer knew how long he'd been held prisoner. He was a minotaur. A Bullman. He was stronger than any human could hope to become, but the illness made his limbs too heavy to lift rendering the chains moot. He was the Joranaham Chieftain
:iconthorns:thorns 152 163
list for ninth october
1) your lover is dead and
you burn the eggs. grease
streaks the stove. you
sit, stand, switch off
the burner. sit.
the birds chirp. sit.
2) your lover is dead and
the birds are hungry:
the blue-jay funereal
blue, mockingbird
sick ocean grey.
you shore yourself
against the bare mattress,
empty mason jars, your
mother's phone calls,
bestsellers commended
by desk receptionists.
the author's name
dwarfs the title,
that means it's good.
that means it's popular.
you spill tea
and soak its pages
and sit. sit.
3) your lover is dead and
the tea is cold.
the leaves have settled
in rorschach patterns.
the tea is hot:
when it's poured.
when you walk away.
you open your mouth.
close it.
4) your lover is dead and
you can learn no more
languages. dust sheaves
on books, in sunroom-motes.
half-eight, you feed the cat.
she scratches the door.
you say nothing:
5) your lover is dead and
you've fallen asleep.
your lover is dead and
6) you know that mockingbird don't sing
we never had no diamond rings
:iconsoporous:soporous 216 70
Wild Hunt :: Longma
Like any good story, this one does not begin where it began. It does, however, begin where it ends—at a funeral.
The village was not particularly big. Rather, it was frightfully small, and just as frightfully remote. That said, it was little surprise that every denizen turned out for something so important as the funeral of a good man.
—and it truly was each and every one: every man, woman, and child; every son, brother, and father; every maiden, mother, and crone. It was said even the dogs followed at the heels of their masters, even the songbirds gathered in the trees, and the livestock unable to free themselves from their pens bowed their heads in respect. But the story that is still told to this day was how the most notable guest at the funeral of Bai Huan was his finest (and only) stallion.
*     *     *     *     *
A long way from the village (but not nearly far enough) a
:iconcorpsewyrm:CorpseWyrm 92 43
Daily Deviations I featured during my time as a volunteer and staff member.

It's been raining a lot here in LA this week. I realize that for the rest of the world, me saying this means very little (including and up to the part where our idea of heavy rain isn't particularly heavy in the first place), but for LA at least, it's a pretty hefty amount of rain. As someone who lives a caveman life and stays indoors whenever there's even the slightest sign of rain, it hasn't really impacted my day to day behavior, but as someone who also lives a plant life and loves having a lot of sunlight each day...I'm over it. :laughing: I get this is normal weather in most places, and that I certainly don't have ground to complain on, seeing as we need the rain here in California, but I'm ready for the return of sunny days, let me tell you.

Outside of that, I don't have much to report on the personal front, other than that I really do love going to work each day, and I missed that feeling a lot. Working from home sounds really nice on paper, but for its positives, the negatives really start to weigh on you when you do it for a long time, and I'm real glad to be physically around other people for work again. Plus, @akiestar , @misfitstamara , and @mattbmattb are good company, too, so my workspace is pretty lively! :happybounce:

How's everyone doing?

Around the Community

Recent Favourites

Fetters, My Feelings
Have You Got The Right
Moravian november
I hope to find relief this night
Something in the woods ( speedpaint 2 h )


mindful coyote
Artist | Literature
Hi there! I'm a storyteller of sorts. Here on DA, I am currently serving as a Community Moderator! I was a gallery moderator from 2010 to 2011, a community volunteer from 2011 to 2012, and was on the Product Marketing team here from 2012 to 2015. Feel free to say hi, I don't bite! If you need help with something on DA, let me know and I'll be happy to help as much as I can.

Deviousness Award

Deviousness Award
A deviant for nine years, ikazon is a monumentally influential member of DeviantArt. A champion of DeviantArt’s literature community, he’s contributed his own writing and journal skins to the community since he first joined DeviantArt. In 2011, ikazon became a Community Volunteer, shining a light on undiscovered pieces in both the DeviantArt related and literature galleries. His dedication to the community quickly made him a beloved figure on DeviantArt. Soon after, in 2012, he was hired as a full-time staff member, where he ran multiple community projects, such as the 2014 and 2015 Valentine’s Day Exchange!

However, ikazon’s contributions to the community extended past his time as a community volunteer and a staff member. From contributing journal skins to the CalendarProject to leaving encouraging comments for his fellow community members, ikazon’s supporting presence has been felt all across DeviantArt.

We’re proud to name ikazon as the Deviousness Award recipient for March 2016!
-awarded March 2016


Add a Comment:
ebjeebies Featured By Owner 12 hours ago  Professional Traditional Artist
Thanks very much for the watch! :D
(1 Reply)
elicoronel16 Featured By Owner 2 days ago  Hobbyist Digital Artist
(1 Reply)
veeegeee Featured By Owner 4 days ago  Professional Writer
(1 Reply)
HearseGurl Featured By Owner Jan 15, 2019
I love your ID pic! Love that 'hawk! :love:
(1 Reply)
sambeawesome Featured By Owner Jan 15, 2019
Thank you so much for the watch! I Love You Emote I really appreciate it and I'm glad you like my artwork Huggle! 
If you'd like, feel free to check out my YouTubeTwitchTwitter, or heart {big} 
Consider checking out my Ko-Fi or Patreon page as well. Love
(1 Reply)
Add a Comment: