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Notes To The Future

By Patti Smith

Listen my children and you shall hear
The sound of your own steps
The sound of your hereafter
Memory awaits and turns to greet you
Draping its banner across your wrists
Wake up arms
Delicate feet
For as one to march the streets

Each alone, each part of another
Your steps shall ring
Shall raise the cloud
And they that will hear will hear
Will hear voice of the one
And the one and the one
As it has never been uttered before

For something greater yet to come
Then the hour of the prophets
And their great cities

For the people of Ninevah
Fell to their knees
Heeding the cry of Jonah
Covering themselves in sackcloth and ashes
And called to their god

And all their hearts were as one heart.
And all their voices were as one voice.

God heard them and his mind was moved.

Yet something greater will come to pass.
And who will call?
And what will they call?
Will they call to God?
The air?
The fowl?

It will not matter, if the call is true.
They shall call and this is known.
One voice and each another
Shall enter the dead, the living flower,
Enter forms that we know not.
To be felt by sea,
By air,
By earth
And shall be an elemental pledge.

This is our birthright.
This is our charge.
And we have given over to others.
And they have

And the forests mourn.
The leaves fall.

Swaddling babes watch and wonder
As the fathers of our spirit nations
Dance in the street in celebration
As the mountains turn pale from
Their nuclear hand
And they have

Now my children
You must overturn the tables
Deliver the future from material rule
For only one rule should be considered

The eleventh commandment
To love one another
And this is our covenant across your wrist

This offering is yours
To adorn, adore
To bury
To burn
Upon a mound

To hail
To set away

It is merely a cloth,
Merely our colors,
Invested with the blood of the people
All their hopes and dreams.

Our flag
It has its excellence
Yet it is nothing
It shall not be a tyranny above us

Nor should god
Nor love
Nor nature

Yet we hold as our pleasure this tender honor
That we acknowledge the individual
And the common ground formed

And if our cloth be raised and lowered
Half mast
What does it tell us?

That an individual has passed
Is saluted
And mourned by his countrymen.

This ritual extends to us all.
For we are all the individual.

No unknown.
No insignificant one
Nor insignificant labor
Nor insignificant act of charity

Each has a story to be told and retold
Which shall be a glowing thread
In the fabric of Man

And the children shall march
And bring the colors forward
Investing within them

The redeeming blood
Of their revolutionary hearts.

One Last Update

Journal Entry: Thu Sep 6, 2018, 9:19 PM


So by now you've probably noticed I'm not around much. It happens.

My life has gravitated elsewhere. "Elsewhere" is this weird and wonderful place of reading tarot semi-professionally, growing okra, playing cards every Wednesday with my 78-year-old great aunt Annette over a bottle of moonshine, owning roughly half of a rapidly growing art-oriented web startup, and trying to find a local beer I don't hate since I've moved cross-country and they don't sell my brand here.

It isn't that I dislike DA. It isn't that my experiences here weren't important, or fun most of the time. The place just has a lot of memories, some good and some terrible, and logging in feels a bit like putting on a backpack full of cinder blocks and jumping in a lake. There are people here I miss, but there are also people here I'd rather never speak to again (you know who you are! :) )

I've also hit this weird place artistically where I know my past work was driven by emotions so extreme that they pulled me into the perfect headspace for creating meaningful work. Now I've felt those highs and lows and landed somewhere in the middle. Turns out the middle doesn't have that same level of visceral need for catharsis that the poles have. I am not creating, because I have no need to create; instead I'm experiencing, doing, and trying to find new paths to the same feelings. Those paths, to date, have not involved a camera or a pen. They've involved volunteering for the church, meditating on tree limbs beside creeks in the forest, finding the perfect recipe for kimchi, re-learning how to smile and laugh and frown and cry in the pace of everyday living.

Oh, and I vape now, because cigarettes are like $19 a pack here because God must fucking hate me.

So I might be back, in some capacity, to some degree of regularity, some day. I'm not ruling out the possibility that art won't seize me and I won't feel the need to resurface with a vengeance the next time I sit on the wrong dick or whatever. That day's not today, though. Even though I miss you this place isn't my home anymore. And I'm not entirely gone - you can still find me on the chat network in #ThumbHub and #Cabalists once in a while.

I'm also no longer a volunteer and haven't been for like two months or more now, so while I do appreciate the tags to close your forum shitposts, they can stop any fucking time, y'all. :)

Here, have a feature for old time's sake:

Browse By Newest, vFINAL

.... No. You know what? Newest photography was literally a picture of a ballsack and 14 pictures of Taylor Swift. Here, have some actual curated content. You all deserve better from me than that actual fecal matter. If I can leave you with one message, it is to remember: Not all art is good art, not all of what you see is art, and shit is shit, period. If anyone tries to tell you otherwise, sing the chorus of "Beds Are Burning" and kick them in the fucking taint. For the sake of culture.

Layne by DanOstergren
Summer game by msatisfaction
Porcelain I by charleshildreth
Closer by SebastienTabuteaud

Peace, bitches.


gone fishin'
Artist | Professional
Formerly ^tiganusi and ^overdebated

I'm C "Mark" Perry, the former Gallery Moderator for Photography (and Chats/Forums, and Traditional Art, depending on the direction of the wind) who proselytized about pigments, pringles, pandas and polaroids. In meatspace I worked as a designer and staff photographer for several years, then swapped into marketing management; I still freelance, show and sell my work but I don't like to talk about it. I'm a once-upon-a-time lit kid who's had a poem/editorial published here and there. I paint too. P is not my favourite letter, but you'd never believe that based on this paragraph.

I was around the site, dAmn and IRC on a few other accounts on and off since before dinosaurs had feathers, most notably on the account `IBinsanity, where I probably left you with a very favourable first impression.

I'm also the cofounder of



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neurotype Featured By Owner 3 days ago  Hobbyist General Artist

love the potato

lel I forgot your new username, thankf uck the old one still works

Dark-Indigo Featured By Owner Nov 10, 2018  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks 4 faving  Enter... by Dark-Indigo  :)
NightmarishWarlord Featured By Owner Oct 20, 2018
nice profile picture
Clairvoyans Featured By Owner Oct 7, 2018   General Artist
LidiaVives Featured By Owner Aug 29, 2018  Professional Photographer
thx for the fav!! :D <3

If you like my work you can follow me on Instagram: @lidiavivesphoto
Danium Featured By Owner Aug 27, 2018
NightmarishWarlord Featured By Owner Oct 20, 2018
:iconinprotest:Kaito avatar 
Mrs-Durden Featured By Owner Aug 12, 2018  Hobbyist Photographer
I miss your face fuckwad
Anoya Featured By Owner Jul 29, 2018   Photographer
Every time I log on you have a new name! :shakefist:
eloquensartifex Featured By Owner Jul 20, 2018
You know what, you did leave me with a favorable impression as IBinsanity, and there's nothing you can do about it. :P
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