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Welcome to the Sharing Project!





Fishbone no.3 by Taro-K Curiosity killed the cat-walk by CatalinPrecup AxisMundi (detail) by AstralManor


:bulletred:THE GOAL: to become a community to spread a wave of commenting, feedback and critiques around deviantART.

:bulletblue:THE HOW: encouraging members to share their artwork with each other & giving feedback to his/her peers.

:bulletred:THE WHY: feedback is an important aspect of art. It helps the artist to grow and learn with each other!

:bulletblue:FEATURES: check the entire list of TheSharingProject's Feature Series HERE!

Moon Pie by thegirlcansmile The One You're Looking For Is Not Here by Rowye Diana (Artemis) by Lotta-Lotos


EMBRACE THE SHARING PROJECT, EMBRACE ART.




See all the deviants and artworks featured on the group HERE! :heart:





Currently recruiting for the Moderator/Curator Team! Send zungzwang a note if interested on taking part of this group's team. :heart:
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Continuing our goal of surfacing and promoting amazing work from around the deviantArt community, I am proud to present TheSharingProject's third weekly poetry feature. Please stop by the pages of these artists - whether they be new community members or known and valued friends! :dalove:



Just a step away from meJust a step away from me
An invisible full, is contained in the distance,
that does not make me hear your voice,
that does not allow me to touch you,
what it presents itself to me as reality.
An invisible full, made of walls,
bodies, sounds, voices,
dust.
Yet you are so close,
enough to be able to smell your perfume,
I just close my eyes and now I see you,
I just stretch my arms to be able to embrace you,
I just listen to the silence and feel that you already
you're talking to me.
fog and dust and dirtHow many of my friends killed themselves before we even met
throwing their aching souls against cliffs of stones so smooth even
the roots of the trees couldn't hold on,
breaking their nails dragging their fingers
through the fog and dust and the dirt that they brought down after them
that would bury them
at the bottom.
I fell to my knees like an ugly movie,
crumpled to the ground because my bones were
only erect with tensely stretched skin,
and the wind had suddenly stopped.
On my mattress I spread my arms and legs
and offered the smooth surface of pain to whatever had taken Kyle
but it didn’t want a body so unbroken
so I broke myself
as though that would affect change.
The deep gashes he left behind
bore light through the people who felt his absence,
a terrible light so bright it hurt to look at
or bare.
I tattooed it on my skin,
an indication of the precious pieces
I carry in myself,
though it doesn’t have his eyes to see the mountains and lakes,
or his heart to skip a be
In TimeThermodynamics
Stealing fleeting energy
You curs'd entropy
:thumb656232935: Canta el corazonPequeños movimientos, tan largos e intrincados en las corrientes de aire, eran más que suficiente para empujar los cúmulos por el cielo. Arriba, los cálidos rayos del sol acariciaban la superficie esponjosa y reluciente. Abajo, las olas encrespadas de los mares bramaban, y a los costados, los extensos continentes se movían lenta y bruscamente. Los tonos de gris eran intensos, casi desafiando a la realidad del mundo. Se escuchaba un silbido constante, como el de una melodía, mientras el viento desfilaba por las calles y las casas, llenando la tierra y los pulmones de todo ser viviente.
Dentro de uno de ellos, latía el corazón de una diminuta criatura. Sus nuevas manos se cerraban y abrían lentamente, mientras era retocada y amoldada con amor. Células, tejidos, órganos. Todo tenía un momento, un orden, una sujeción, una razón. Los ojos, para ver, las orejas, para oír, la nariz, para oler, la boca, para hablar, y l
:thumb656466911: Come, take my handCome, take my hand, I’ll lead the way
Through darkest night, through grayest day
We’ll face all pain and all your fear
Through barricades, the last frontier
Until steep hills and walls decay
Should sunless roads lead us astray
Or smothered thoughts your smile betray
We’ll make it through, we’ll dry your tear
Come, take my hand
A remnant smile each time you weigh
How long this lasts, how long its stay
Your breath is deep; your eyes are clear
Your time has come; the end is near
Come, take my hand
third shiftthird shift
Before the dawn's awakening
the ashen weight of
incense laden clouds
hangs heavy, leaning
on factory rooftops
and candlestick smokestacks.
A water tower slouches
compressing the damp
frigid air, pressing down
on the speckled frost
covered, frozen ground.
A dissolving florescence
spills from gated doors
and locked windows
seeping through bars
and fences, flooding
the concrete sidewalk.
The shadow shapes
of hunched workers
passing in procession
in the repeated ritual.
Machinery's murmured prayer
worshiping in a new church.
The Last of the Dead LeavesThe last of its kin
Awaits the brush of a breeze,
Precious and willful.
:thumb656823606:




:heart: The Poets :heart:

Tazunee, ClamShellHeart, M0T0M, palastic, dolunaylupus, Kathleanore, Lostboysmee, ethanw60, peninsularity
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Admins

:heart: Introducing the TheSharingProject team! :heart:



Open Team Positions available! If you'd like to participate directly in the project, send a note to zungzwang!

Founder


:iconzungzwang:

Co-Founders


:icondamhsagaoithe:

Contributors


:iconjacelyndinh:

Favourites

rainy days and soft dreams by bebefromtheblock rainy days and soft dreams :iconbebefromtheblock:bebefromtheblock 66 1
Literature
upon her shoulders.
i want those feet that find themselves tearing too
fast in a barren
dusky field at the break of evening and those
fingers so easily emotionally possessed that will write
even faster when exorcising a thought from silence.
i want that head and that hair that stirs up the
wild things from the grasses at crests of burning 
hills and those brown forest floor eyes that undergrowth can't
stop spilling out of in chaotic tangles before
burning away at an idle blink that
clears acres of iris for whatever dares
to come alive next.
i want the catastrophic cherry heart that loves
convulsing too hard so i'll feel the blood stroking
the insides of my veins and i
want those expansive ocean lungs that heave like an
oxen team overhauling entire mountains and i
want those tough-hide shrug shoulders that feel like they were raised
to hold heavier things than this world. 
i want the shoulders that know the universe weighs nothing
when compared to those bones they lift.
:icondrowsydoe:drowsydoe
:icondrowsydoe:drowsydoe 33 4
Dsc 0027 (2) by Placi1 Dsc 0027 (2) :iconplaci1:Placi1 66 35 Composizione7680b by claudio51 Composizione7680b :iconclaudio51:claudio51 143 44 The Book of Dreams by spescarus The Book of Dreams :iconspescarus:spescarus 68 23 Aquarium by spescarus Aquarium :iconspescarus:spescarus 95 45
Literature
DAILY DEVIATION: The Old Fisherman
The old fisherman pulled in his nets as chill salt wind stung chapped lips. There were but few small fish to feed his thin, weathered frame. It mattered not. He bore no wife at home, no child at hearth to roam. He was alone.
The fog hid land from view as he pulled at the water-sodden oars, but this too mattered not to the old fisherman. He knew the way home. The fish he would roast o’er stone and fire with potatoes he’d grown in soil of his small plot. A lob of pork-fat would make his feast, and within his gut did growl at the very thought. He whistled a tune to cover the sound as he lent his back to plow the waves.
A resounding tune came to his ear, of maiden’s voice clear as bells. The old fisherman cocked his head to hear, such lullaby as to bring a tear. The sound it seemed pulled at his very heart strings. It made the old fisherman lean to his starboard side with oar and ear, to this he must better hear. The song, the tune, was some such melody as to draw him hit
:iconLaurenIpsome:LaurenIpsome
:iconlaurenipsome:LaurenIpsome 78 65
Literature
Dear Poets
We understand.
We get it.
Things are like other Things.
Must you go on
about her eyes like a storm and
her hands like home,
and love as some organic thing,
growing in a garden,
hidden under dirt?
   Flowers are lovely,
    but they soften and rot.
Don’t give me that.
And don’t you dare pretend.
Sometimes a sky is a sky,
and breasts aren’t valleys, just breasts.
Your sonnets paint the world
in a marriage of divorces,
in likes and as and norths pointing south;
but my lips aren’t honey,
and my eyes aren’t storms,
and my breasts aren’t valleys and
the only home I find
    is in bags beneath my eyes and
    two lethal doses of Benadryl.
I don’t like this analogy.
I want to get off.
:iconMrs-Salt:Mrs-Salt
:iconmrs-salt:Mrs-Salt 14 16
Look at that! They call this a castle? - Sophie by beathaart Look at that! They call this a castle? - Sophie :iconbeathaart:beathaart 726 90 The Birch's Touch by Lorelyne The Birch's Touch :iconlorelyne:Lorelyne 101 11

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Comments


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:iconlualady:
LualaDy Featured By Owner May 13, 2018  Professional Traditional Artist
hey guys, I just noticed it's been more than 1year you haven't featured anyone? =/
are you still gonna do that? or... caput???
Reply
:iconjennystokes:
jennystokes Featured By Owner Apr 22, 2018  Professional General Artist
This is a good idea for a Group.............are people sharing and commenting? :wave:
Reply
:iconaveragephotographer:
AveragePhotographer Featured By Owner Nov 5, 2017  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for accepting me and my photos! :)
Reply
:iconaveragephotographer:
AveragePhotographer Featured By Owner Sep 19, 2017  Hobbyist Photographer
Thanks for the request! :)
Reply
:icondigitaldirt:
DigitalDirt Featured By Owner Apr 5, 2017  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks guys! :highfive:
Reply
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