dA love for everyone! #98

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:dalove:         :la:         :dalove:         :la:         :dalove:


As the title suggests, this news article’s goal is to spread the dA love into everyone’s heart! You will find here a little bit of everything, from awesome interviews with talented artists, art features, group promotion to random deviants' features. I hope you will find this informative and entertaining!


Interviewed artist: SophieLeta :iconsophieleta:

:bulletyellow: Tell us what defines you as a person.

To stay simple : what I do (and don't), what I think, what I say, what I draw, what I'm made of (some water particles well bonded to each other!).

:bulletyellow: How did you find out about deviantART and why did you join the community?

To be honest, I don't remember how I discovered deviantART, that was about... 8 or 7 years before i joined the community for a very simple reason: I'm an artist curious about the work of others, and this place is full of talented persons!

:bulletyellow: When and how did you discover your passion for art?

When? I think I start to draw from 4 years old, I'm 30 now, so do the math! :D I've always been passionate by art, I knew very early that this was the job I wanted to do later... And unlike many others, my passion has not extinguished but strengthened through the years!


:bulletyellow: What inspires you the most and when do you think your creativity is at its maximum?

I could not say everything that inspires me and when I am the most inspired, simply because inspiration is the most elusive and unpredictable muse... But I think there is two main things that bring me to cheer: Nature and Music, and if I must mention a moment in the day... I'll say evening, when the world around is almost calm and peaceful.

:bulletyellow: What do you think you'd be doing if you hadn't chosen this path?

Hum, that's a good question, think I'd do a job related to nature!

:bulletyellow: What do you think it's your most meaningful deviation and what makes it special? Does it have a story behind it?

I am not very attached to one of my creations in particular in the sense that I love them all! There is always a story behind all of them, big or small, that's why they exist, to share with others some stories inside my head or feelings I have about life. Well, this is not necessarily true for professional stuff, but I always try to leave a small part of me in what I do!


:bulletyellow: Do you have any insecurities regarding your art?

Insecurities I found are insecurities that plagues all artistic jobs nowadays. Publishers of books that have a unilateral visions of what must be the creation and how illustrate a book, social and financial crisis that brings all artists in a precarious situation. People do not know most of the time they hold power over what comes out or not, what is successful or not, personally I try to encourage artisans and small designers, rather than the wealthy companies who did not need my money to live.

:bulletyellow: Did art ever helped you to deal with your life problems?

I always thought art has a fairly subtle power of catharsis, there is not always easy to start something (we all have a natural tendency to laziness! :D), but when i'm in, I feel always very peaceful, sometimes there even are temporal gaps, when 1 hour seems to have lasted 5 minutes!

:bulletyellow: What is the one thing you always wanted to do but never got a chance to?

For now, I feel that I have nothing to regret, I do what I wanted to do, and I've still many projects, see if I have the time to realize them all!


:bulletyellow: A few words for our fellow artists?

Yep, your life belongs to you, it is unique and precious! Do your best with what you want to do, what tends to your heart and always try to improve yourself in everything, be honest, brave, luminous: life is like an RPG, the goal is to be better at the end than you were in the beginning! :D





Photography Feature


Vanuatu Fire Dance by little-spacey Red fox and Purple  Pastels by thrumyeye Lux-Grim by IMustBeDead
:thumb429592956: high expectations by irremedios:thumb429604421:



Traditional Feature


The Protector by ElvenstarArt VAPOROUS by retromortis Mushroom fairies by MaryIL #Skeleton#Death by VladGradobyk
:thumb429396262::thumb429431676: Emancipation by greenpengua



Digital Feature


Inashen by EnferDeHell The rabbit by inshoo1 A sweetest kiss on mini goose boats by galgard Sloorpicorn by SloorpWorld
Lost Without Your Love by Shedboy68 Roses took over by jjpeabody dream geometry by ellrano



Literature Feature

Not a Fountain, a VesselI swear I’d rather languish than live, draw nobility
from potting into the soft cheeks of my little alcove.
O, wisp of a street, O bend tethered to bland little globes
scuttled by cat runes and miter dust, where I can still stand
without an inkling to speak or to tame my beard, my growth,
and lay prone and mired in the damp silt of my afterbirth,
why, through these ripples in the fold, do I sense how meaning-
less it is to intend, to recollect that brazen mist
of cells, entranced, which someone once thought beautiful?
I think, “why move at all?” The lip will seize that sun again
and all the things I fleshed and held, unseen anatomies
withering like blackbirds’ unconscious patterns, sinking off
into the dark sojourn that spills between each arrival
to ports of bright recalling what had mattered long and most
will burn through all the wreaths I lay for each forgotten grief,
and handless fingers of our roots, turned up and gray into
the till will matter less than o
Too BigIn a world of giants,
we escaped from our capture
and out into the world,
with so much to enrapture
our virgined eyes,
and there it took us,
by surprise, just how big this world was.
We thought ourselves big, too, once,
but we were so so wrong.
In this world we were but gnats,
and the roads were so very long,
more than they were back home,
and we shivered at the thought of
being alone, but that's not how the world works.
For one of us, this world
would be too big, too big!
And we would not survive.
But let us huddle together,
and with our strength combined
against this big world strive.
And succeed.

VacancyBlank stares, Thursday morning
ignorantly they suspect
we ended.  Without warning
you passed, shadows deforming,
pressed in my hand a check:
Blank.  I stared, that Thursday morning,
as my words half-forming,
tried to plead for your respect;
ended.  Without warning,
shoes squeaking at the turning,
you taught me to expect
blank stairs.  That Thursday morning
my body left in mourning
life within ended, your respect
ended without.  Warning
you were not conforming
to what I chose to expect
your blank stare on Thursday morning
ended me without a warning.
nicomy birdcage boy, you’re letting
your rusty inhibitions bar you in,
and if you didn’t tie that phrase
“i don’t deserve it” round your neck
and tug at those knots like a leash
whenever you wanted something,
you would have the entire galaxy
cupped in your palms.
and, my birdcage boy,
you do deserve it.
:thumb429415772:


   
Group Feature

:icondesignnhq:
DesignnHQ is where The-PS-Magazine moved, so if you were a member there or if you just want to watch the group and contribute with material for a high quality zine like this one Designn Magazine 4th Edition by UJz, this is the place to go to.



Featured artists

apalkin :iconapalkin:
:thumb427699700::thumb427096485::thumb427964874:

ive27 :iconive27:
:thumb349350130::thumb406835002::thumb397096749:

DearPoetry :icondearpoetry:
Cancer has a smell.Old classics,
lilac air-fresheners,
the half cup of
peppermint ice cream
that’s been
sitting in your freezer
for weeks, and cat litter.
He won’t eat anymore,
but there are
piles and piles
of dirty dishes
sitting in the sink.
He’s slowly
disintegrating
before your eyes.
You can wrap
your whole self
around his tiny bones
now.
You can hold him
like he used to hold you
all those years ago.
And you are angry.
You try to find
someone,
or something
to blame.
You hate doctors,
and you hate
November now.
November means
birthdays, diagnoses,
chemo treatments,
and realization.
You have to force yourself
to stop crying,
every day.
This is the one person
who’s always had faith
in you.
He’s read every poem
and hoarded every award
you ever won.
You ignore statistics,
because roses
they always
smell nicer.
Writer ScarsI have told my secrets
through loves ink -
painted them to my skin
with watercolor defiance.
& writers, we sometimes
write about our scars
in riddles, layers upon
layers of thought, -
care for them
like flowers
growing
on the warlands
of our bodies.
Worthy,
we give them faces,
we give them names,
we give them gravestones.
We kill them off
in our stories,
make them villains,
make them heroes.
I have wrists that roar,
& I will be damned
if I don’t let them
tell their stories.
You should never attack a poet,we are the best at exploiting weakness.
the night you took a scalpel to my chest
& fed my heart to the stars,
you told me i could hate you
if i needed to.
with an exorcism
i tried to cast you out
of my body.  
i was contorted limbs:
the language of tongues
trying to find myself
in the cosmos
of lit kerosene fingertips,
& the kinds of habits
that only choke me at 3am -
when my eyes aren’t yet heavy
enough for sleep;
my mind tells me to do awful things.
between fucking &
i-don’t-know-who-i-am-
anymore,
you are the calories
in the mathematical equation
scribbled &
    scratched out
of me.
i think of shy moons
and i don’t eat for three days.
admit it;
you only liked me
when this poetic tongue
licked compliments
up
    & down
your scars.  
but,
space shrapnel aside-
you’re too far down now
for even the stars
to graph you into their maps.



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Comments13
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sesam-is-open's avatar
Many beautiful works here!:heart: