DD Suggestion Drive - Final Feature 4/4

Oct 6, 201549 min read

Deviation Actions

Published: Oct 6, 2015

2K Views

If you see or read anything on dA that absolutely awes you, please consider suggesting the piece for a DD feature. FAQ #18: Who selects Daily Deviations and how are they chosen?

And now for the final feature for the wonderful participants of LiliWrites' DD Suggestion Drive!

I'm sorry to have kept you all waiting for so long, but I do hope that this makes up for it.

QuiEstInLiteris

An official admin of four groups (BooksofLostKnowledge, FantasyAuthorsGuild, TheMysteryGuild, WrittenExcellence), MR Graham has been a deviant for four years, and is a published author, with e-books available through Amazon. She also keeps a catalogue of those who are independently published and have accounts on DeviantArt in her journals section under "The Indie Pen Directory", so that is definitely something worth looking into if you're interested in supporting your favorite authors financially. Her own gallery is definitely worth checking out!

Last Call for Tanner LeeTanner left the hospital feeling strangely empty. He had expected agony. From the moment he had heard the Code Blue declared over the intercom and been forced out of Leah’s room (Room 318; he would never forget that number, or the feel of the sheets beneath his hands), he had known his life was coming to an end. They did not give up, and he gave them credit for that, but there is only so much time and effort a doctor can put into saving someone who is determined to die, and twelve hours later, Tanner and the bag of Leah’s effects sat in the back of a cab, on their way home. He would have to plan a funeral. Of course she had no life insurance; she had only been eighteen, a grinning college freshman home for her first Christmas break.
He sat at home that night and called her cell phone, letting it ring out at the foot of her bed for the sake of hearing her voice in the recording.
Hey, it’s Leah. I can’t come to the phone right now, probably because I’m h No Cage for a Crow - OneWith the benefit of hindsight, I am forced to admit that the howling heart of a winter storm might not have been the most well-considered moment to run away from home. Of course, adolescents have never been renowned for their unerring wisdom, and I was no exception. All I knew then, the one thought running continuously through my mind as I belted on my dressing gown, stuffed my feet into layers upon layers of stockings and then into my brother’s over-sized boots, and threw a heavy woollen coat over all of it, was that I had to get out. It was all my fault, I had ruined everything, and the only thing left was to run.
And so I ran.
I had no plan – as I have said, this was not an intelligent decision. It was an impulse born of powerful emotion, fierce, chaotic, unpleasant, as thoroughly divorced from the guidance of intuition as it was from that of reason.
Divorced from self.
There was a bizarre sensation of separation. I felt I was barely in control of the hands that fumbled Prayer for calmLord, make me silent.
Teach me to pray without asking.
I talk too much, loud and discordant.
I never hear your call.
Lord, make me still.
Teach me to lie in repose.
I move all day, fierce and clumsy.
I never feel your guiding hand.
My heart is frantic,
my mind ill at ease,
thrumming and twitching
with unceasing demands.
Lord, quiet me, still me.
Fill me.
Waiting for the Spring - starter    The Skinner took all of them. Seventeen bare bodies, red meat beginning to go white with frost. The fire had died hours earlier. Black and white ash mottled the floor and soaked up what blood had not yet frozen. There were footprints in the mess, signs of the desperate fight that must have taken place. The fragments of a bone knife lay charred in the fire pit.
    She stood in the mouth of the cave until the dark time became the light time and drifts of snow began to grow against her boots, sure that her eyes were dreaming. None of them stirred, and she did not wake, and when the cold began to bite her, the mourner became a scavenger. The door swung down and sealed itself behind her as she moved inside, taking what she would need. Lightning’s fur cloak, White-eye’s ancient metal dagger, Mushroom’s boots, Rougher’s firestone, the brace of frozen rats Green had caught to feed his female and their child.
    MemoryI remember you, quiet man,
plaidly relieved against a backdrop
spangled with motes of starry dust.
I remember you, blue eyes,
all black socks and white sweater,
and the way you used to eat mayonnaise.
I made fun of you for that.
I remember you smiling,
no tubes, no pumps.
And in the blue room, I played a game,
pretending I could keep you here
as long as I stayed awake, imagining
my breath sustaining you-
   in and out
      in and out
         in and out
      and once more.
But my heart cramps,
and my eyes are sore,
and this is not so much a poem
as a thinly veiled prayer
that you still guard me as I sleep,
though open eyes did not save you. SynesthesiaI fell in love with a pianist's hands.
They danced across my skin in minuets, his fingers tripping cadenzas up and down my spine. He brushed sonatas through my hair and across my shoulders, pianissimo. I trembled beneath his trills. The primal, earnest rage of Bach swelled in hot crescendos along my throat, beneath my ribs, guided by his hands --- Mozart, coolly logical, raised goosebumps down my arms --- Chopin soothed the fire and finally calmed my hammering heart.
I fell in love with a pianist's hands, listening from the back of the coffee shop while my lungs fought for breath, making wishes until he was gone.

Though none of the pieces she suggested have yet been featured, you should definitely keep an eye on the Daily Deviations page daily so you can see them when they're chosen for the honor!

resurrexia

A deviant for three years, she spends time as an admin of pixivfantasia, Ayakashi-Ghost-Guild, and KyoukaiNoKanataFans, as well as creating art across numerous media. Her gallery is definitely varied and eclectic, and definitely worth checking out.

[This I Believe] of wordsI believe in a great deal of things, frivolous or not. I believe in the essence of enjoying good tea. I believe in the human connection in friendships, be it in flesh or in pixels. But what I believe in the most is the power of words; phrases that weave and connect into stirring speeches, hidden undertones, and unfinished sentences. I believe in that.
Writing and reading, and everything - anything to do with the creation and manipulation of language has never failed to fascinate. Throughout my life, I’ve seen and felt the effects of words that break, heal, calm and catalyse change, and they have never failed to amaze.
It sounds strange, as a cynic, I suppose, to admit that I'm somewhat of an escapist, seeking comfort in the embrace of typesets and illusion. And I'd always thought, if I tried a little harder, I'd be able to escape from cruel reality and leave everything behind. It was somewhat of a childish thought, though, in hindsight. But after a long hard day, does it not allo United We Stand (Bronze Award Piece)'United we stand'? How sincere is that? Just how much thought and passion goes behind those three words? And really, just what right has one to impose such an image - a thought - an ideal - on others?
None, I daresay.
All my life I spent my time hoping, praying, begging, even, that those words would never come to torture me, toy with me, haunt me.
But they did. Who was I to stop that from happening, anyway?
Me? The outcast who never was popular, who never was liked, who never, never managed to conform and fit in?
I think my mindset changed, this year, after seeing more of the world - its people and the vicious spirit we humans possessed and even embraced. I mean, I am not the least guilty person of such a thing, but really, who can't be innocent, in such a cruel world? That's besides the point for now, I think, but it hurt a lot, watching so many of the precious bonds I forged with those around me lost, broken, as a solvation shell surrounded me, squeezing, squeezi What do you hope to achieve in your lifetime?We humans have an average of thirty-two to eighty-one years of life. It cannot be, that every single one of us will definitely create some sort of lasting impact on the world. It cannot be, that each and every single one of us will be revered as heroes and reviled as villains in centuries to come. It cannot be, that we are all Shakespeare and Sun Zi and Socrates in our own ways.
We are only human, and perhaps it is better to think of ourselves as the general trend, and those, those hallmarked figures as anomalies, oddities marring the graph paper that is our environment.
To us youths, it feels like forever - we have only just begun to explore our lives, after all. Our energy is boundless, and it feels just as if we could do anything, if given the opportunity to do so. Many of us, however, do not make full use of our collective potentials, and waste ourselves away, swept up by narcissism (fuelled, of course, by social media) and frivolous antics.
I don’t want to be the same

Though none of the pieces she suggested have yet been featured, you should definitely keep an eye on the Daily Deviations page daily so you can see them when they're chosen for the honor!

RogueMudblood

I'm not going to spend time featuring myself, though I honestly don't think there's a problem with it in the right circumstance. I am, however, going to feature those pieces I suggested for the Daily Deviation feature which have been chosen by the CVs.

periphrasis by StarlightComet, featured by HugQueen

Tyler by KiwiTakeFlight, featured by JenFruzz

Different Beauty by tholang, featured by MarcosRodriguez

you are my oxygen by oliviacolomar, featured by HugQueen

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild by UnidColor

New Zelda Wii U by UnidColor, featured by TheCreativeJenn

Wine and Cheese by Awesomealexis1, featured by Kaz-D

It's Gourmet by beccaleeg, featured by LiliWrites

SabakuNoShi

Shi is known throughout the photography community, and she has stunning taste. She's certainly dedicated herself to contributing to the community - more than 115,000 comments in her seven years on site! As an admin of seven groups (CrazySquad, CRPhotography, MANIP-YOUR-MUSIC, PhotoArtography, ArtWorldToday, heavenlybackyardbird, FreeYourWildside), she regularly features works submitted to their galleries, but she makes time on her personal account to conduct interviews as well! You should certainly take a moment to check them out, and then take a trip over to her gallery!

Some of the pieces she's suggested that have been featured as Daily Deviations:

Michelle Lehult by PrincessAlbertSwe, featured by Queen-Kitty

Bye, bye fly... by cigane13, featured by MarcosRodriguez

The Horseshoe Bend by Durdenyr, featured by JenFruzz

SavageFrog

Froggy's been on DeviantArt for three years, and has proven to be a wonderful member of the community. She spends time as an admin of Simplyism and NaNoPlotMo - the latter of which is an excellent resource for writers working on long pieces. She's an avid featurer of those who take the time to send her a llama, so do take a moment and give her one! And after you do, take a moment to traipse around her gallery - these first two featured pieces are collabs.

ToK-ToS Yggdrasil Siblings COLLAB by SavageFrog

Tok-ToS Mithos Collab COLORED by SavageFrog

Lil Silver Fishies Swimming in the Sea by SavageFrog

Some of the pieces she's suggested that have been featured as Daily Deviations:

The clock dragon 4 by Albegoyec, featured by Talty

The Thrill of the Haunt by CircusTent, featured by TimberClipse

The Devil's Bridge by bamboomix, featured by Mrs-Durden

Shixam

Tiffany has her goals and desires clearly outlined on her profile - and she's a driven young woman, determined on being a web and graphic designer by trade, and her gallery certainly reflects her skill! Her gallery is definitely worth a look, especially if you're into dolls.

Though none of the pieces she suggested have yet been featured, you should definitely keep an eye on the Daily Deviations page daily so you can see them when they're chosen for the honor!

SilverInkblot

Lauren is one of the well-known names in the literature community here on DeviantArt. If you've spent any time traipsing around the written word here on DA, you've probably seen her name more than once - and definitely if you've been looking through interviews, she'll come up regularly. In addition to being a swing admin for DailyLitRecognition, SilverInkblot has her own group: TheTitlePage, which is home to her Title Project and an abundance of found poetry created from the DeviantArt community itself. She makes time after living life and her administrative duties to write - and she has even kindly organized her page with pieces she would specifically like visitors to read, so I'll feature some from "that box".

Tangential AsymptotesI think about falling in math class.
The boy in front of me is writing diligently, noting each and every word as though he forgot it was all in the textbook. He has dark hair all tangled up in the back like a bramble of thornbushes and his green hoodie looks like it could use a good washing.
The professor is rattling on about asymptotes, about two lines that go on forever, getting closer and closer but never touching. He tells us about the Greek roots of the word; asymptotos, that it means "not falling together," and he scribbles nonsense equations on the board and hopes that we understand them better than he does because tenure is the only reason he's teaching this class.
As much as I hate math, I have to admit there's something beautiful about the concept. Something romantic and longing, something I can relate to in a sea of cold precision and dispassionate numbers.
I think about falling in math class. I think about fractals and their intricate patterns, turning equations into art. T SurrogateI stopped using his full title
because it started sounding too formal,
and it’s hard to be standoffish with someone
who swaps albums and memories so generously,
who loves German chocolate but hates the smell of oranges,
who knows me by my boneless,
drowsy form on the couch and by my words.
And maybe one day he’ll ask
me to drop the title altogether and call him Brad,
but I won’t.
Because it sounds too much like dad,
and I’m afraid of slipping up. Turn my words against me.I want my words to take
root in your stomach and grow
up your esophagus, the calyx
of your tongue brushing the edge
of your teeth until the words blossom
from your lips in a slow
explosion of elegance, jawline
trickled with nectar, charming
hummingbirds and honeybees
with the promise of butterfly kisses.
Autumn was my first love.October, I follow you -
from the magic lights of New York
to moonshines in Georgia,
until the colors dissolve.
The anxious poetry of autumn
made a memory of me.
Here’s to things I take for granted:
September blues,
chasing airplanes,
country road thunderstorms.
Unspoken words, unwritten ideas.
October, I follow you;
I thought I saw you on the shore
where the river runs through gold
on the last boat leaving the city of a hundred spires -
or perhaps Pittsburgh
(it was the lights I guess).
Here’s to the things we leave behind:
sunbeams in November,
letters addressed to no one,
poems, wounds, dead birds.
I’ve got that summertime sadness.
Maybe you’re gonna come back;
we’re changing our ways, taking different roads
and loneliness knows me by name
but October, I follow you;
without you I’m a winter heart,
a love story you don’t want,
a November shade of grey hunting ghosts
in cities that sleep inside our heads.
You told me you lied the night you kiss Old SoulsDoc says I’m an old
soul, with my postcards
and letters, and waste-no-words
policy. Doc says old souls still make eye
contact instead of playing with iPhones,
mirrors that stare back, and tell
us who we are by knowing
who they are.
Doc tells me I’m an old
soul in a young body, taming
wild Internets and bringing my words
to heel like a triple score
in a game of Scrabble.
That I was born in the wrong
decade, that I was meant to punch
typewriter keys like a boxer,
that the twenty-first century
wasn’t made for old souls like mine.
Doc thinks I’m too old
to be twenty-three, constantly forgetting
the barriers of my few years.
Like that I never wrote about myself
until he gave me moments
worth writing down, and cared
about the person behind the words.
That I learned who I was by learning
who he was, and drew a timeline
of intersection points where each
node became a poem, and each poem
became a stepping stone.
Doc unearthed an old
soul in my notebook.
Old like a favori SuperimposeHe doesn't look like a gymnast. He's all button down shirts and frazzled grey hair framing wire spectacles, a picture perfect professorial archetype down to the very tips of his frayed shoelaces. But he was a gymnast once, or so he tells us, and I believe him because he smiles like he knows something while he's chatting before class.
It's strange to see that image superimposed over the current one – the distinguished professor in pressed khaki slacks and a jacket, worn brown loafers exuding a faintly courteous manner (you can always tell them by their shoes), and a ring on the fourth finger of his left hand – versus the athletic kid who went to college for a semester and grew nine inches too tall to keep doing what he loved so he took up a tennis racquet instead. Gymnasts don't wear suit jackets; no steel mill worker has such manicured nails. But the images are all there, flickering just under the surface and bubbling up again when he's recounting stories about his days in Pi

Some of the pieces she's suggested that have received a Daily Deviation feature:

Exhale by IndigoSkyes, featured by LiliWrites

The Daily Magnet # 121 by FridgePoetProject, featured by LiliWrites

The Great Francus by Valdrin, featured by LiliWrites

SnowTheSlipper

They've only been here a short time on DeviantArt, but they have amassed an enormous collection of favourites. They've also created two groups: TheRealmOfTime and Roommate-Adventures. Mostly working with traditional media, SnowTheSlipper enjoys commissions/requests, so certainly check with them about pricing if you enjoy their art!

Though none of the pieces they suggested have yet been featured, you should definitely keep an eye on the Daily Deviations page daily so you can see them when they're chosen for the honor!

skulkey

A deviant for eight years, skulkey is very active in the forums - over 25,000 posts! - as well as being an administrator of DAPoliticalForumClub and Hansard-TheLaw. In addition to intriguing fractals, he also creates music, and syncs his soundtracks to animations. His gallery is definitely worth a look - an intriguing glance into someone else's mind.

Though none of the pieces he suggested have yet been featured, you should definitely keep an eye on the Daily Deviations page daily so you can see them when they're chosen for the honor!

Ssarawolf

Sara returned to DeviantArt in March of this year after an absence of some time. Though she is currently dealing with issues of people posting her art to their tumblr accounts instead of reblogging from her own, she has continued posting some stunning artwork. (If anyone is having this issue, you can file a DMCA takedown to tumblr and they will remove the post with the unauthorized copy. Just FYI.) She is currently also an admin at ARTOMATICS, which seeks to promote stunning artwork. Her own gallery is definitely worth a look!

Though none of the pieces she suggested have yet been featured, you should definitely keep an eye on the Daily Deviations page daily so you can see them when they're chosen for the honor!

sylveda

An admin of We-Write-To-Escape and Flying-Fingers, sylveda is on her second account. She's certainly spent a bit of time leaving comments on various postings throughout the site. Her gallery is an intriguing mix of poetry and prose, definitely worth a visit!

watch me write poems from dustalthough i am a barren creator-
my insides composed of wilting gardens, browning daisy petals
although i have no seeds to sprinkle and sow,
i am oxygen's daughter.
hydrogen's descendant--
my feet rooted firmly in galactic soot.
watch me evolve from nonexistence
watch me maneuver my being into
nothing less than pure
melody.
watch me assemble myself from entropy
pick up all the scattered pieces
and bond myself together;
(hydrogen is not a bond, but an intermolecular force, you say)
and i agree.
i create from nothing more than pure force--
i am a mother of thoughts once born
in dust, but oh,
just watch me rise. from the phantom, to the ruins Skeleton boy—
You were an architectural masterpiece, a city caught aflame, Atlantis purged with fire—
you were destined to drown, but burned instead,
cinders are not becoming of you.

Skeleton boy—your ghost left so long ago.
Turning your ribs into wind chimes will not summon back
all that you used to be.
Skeleton boy, remember that your crooked teeth are
bones too.
Bones that break, bones that splinter, like the words you uttered before you—

Your ribcage used to house a heart. I don’t think either of us realized
love had an expiry date.
Skeleton boy, your jaw works on
hinges,
it is a door that promised so much, but you spent everything you had in you and
regurgitated your insides
(they splattered out in perfect sonnets.)
Skeleton boy, maybe we should launch you into space, so
your animated bones can fall apart in the absence of

(your inner) gravity is the only thing holding you together,
muscles and tendons wilted awa a study in numbers and superficialityhe smiled in parabolas;
and only when one could not chart his distance any longer did I stop and notice
how the constellations of freckles mapped across his cheeks
could be points on Orpheus’ plane—
how beautifully his face sang, how dainty was his
porcelain pout against the rough hewn glare of
his Neptunian gaze.
Fibonacci’s numbers charted his visage—a elegant landscape,
sym-met-ry, accordance—
[one plus the square root of five, divided by two]
He was music, he was melody, he was Apollo’s last song,
his last prophecy, his last poem—
he was a canvas, a graph, a parabola extending to two-dimensional infinit(ies)
held within the confines of sickly, seraphic perfection.
catching sand He had a habit of catching things.
Usually, good things. A basketball, or a cat falling from a tree, or his baby sister, one memorable time, as she fell out of her crib.
It was instinct to him, second nature. He didn't need to think about it—his hands acted independently from the rest of him, completely on their own accord, risk and volition. His hands, to him, were unbearably selfish. They thought very little of consequence. Didn’t they care about the potential pain? Did it matter to them that what they caught might. . . hurt?
He was still rather young the first time he caught a knife that had fallen off the kitchen counter. He caught it, unfortunately, by the blade. It sliced cleanly into the chubby flesh of his little boy palms. His mother saw the blood spilling from his hands and screamed, uncurling his fingers from around the knife. She shrieked at him, her voice shrilly with fear. Why had he held onto it like that? Why did he catch it in the first place the mechanisms of ocean waves When I was little, I loved sea foam.
Running forward to the shore, I would watch waves lap up at my feet and then recede, dragging the sand under my feet back with it. Sea foam would fringe the edges of these silky waves like lace, and I would grab at it, cup it in my hands. I would remember the origins of Aphrodite (born of sea foam, risen out of the ocean as the most beautiful goddess of all), and I would cradle it, hold it close to me, as if I could absorb it into my being.
By the time I brought the sea foam up to my face, it had leaked through my fingers, dissolved. Leaning down, I would cup it again and again and again, gathering fragile lace like a fine seamstress, hoping to maybe sew it onto the edges of myself, make myself some semblance of Aphrodite. Yet it crumbled, leaked through my fingers, leaving only the trace of salt behind.
Eventually I gave up on the sea foam. One cannot keep chasing after things that just barely exist.

***
My father told me never to plunge int <da:thumb id="457475246"/>

Though none of the pieces she suggested have yet been featured, you should definitely keep an eye on the Daily Deviations page daily so you can see them when they're chosen for the honor!

TheGalleryOfEve

Eve is one of the kindest souls I've ever had the privilege to meet, even if that is only online. She's a truly wonderful person, and she's always been supportive of everyone who happens to flit her way.

For the brief time that I've known her, Eve has been one of the most giving of deviants, which is reflected clearly in her features of others and their work, the 51,000 comments she's left since joining DeviantArt, and the time she dedicates to the groups she helps administrate (TutorialsForYou, dAWishingWell, Outstanding-Women, DD-Suggesters, ArtInOurHeart, AffiniTea, The-Feature-Showcase, Angels-And-Gangstas, VectorArtGallery), many of which exist solely to build a sense of community or help members of the community. And somehow, even after all of that, she manages to create digital art and animations that are both fun and useful. Do stop by her gallery and give it a look!

Magic World - Commission by TheGalleryOfEve

20 years and there's much more room WAY more by TheGalleryOfEve

Pirate Eevee - Buried Treasure For Charity Collab by TheGalleryOfEve

Some of the pieces she's suggested that have received a Daily Deviation:

Full6 by LynnChenArt, featured by tinycasket

Every breaking wave by iTaylie, featured by Kaz-D

006 by Velvet--Glove, featured by C-91

uchuubranko

uchuubranko has been around DA for three years, spending time featuring artists and lovely works of art. Currently an admin of six groups (Imagyalite, tinysantas, LastOfTheWildAdopts, Myths-Galore, Rewritten-Artbook, ADay-Artbook), @uchuubranko also works on creating and curating artbooks for the support of charities. They've also spent a good deal of time leaving comments on various artworks throughout the site (over 11,000!) and still managed to find time to create stunning art!

Though none of the pieces they suggested have yet been featured, you should definitely keep an eye on the Daily Deviations page daily so you can see them when they're chosen for the honor!

vindolet

A deviant for three years, vindolet has spent time advertising for various events held throughout the site - contests, raffles - even petitions! They also spend time featuring others, and they're one of the bilingual artists in the community. Their work ranges from literature to adoptables, and includes both traditional and digital works. They definitely have some interesting pieces in their gallery, so it's worth looking through, certainly!

yubera coloreado TEP 2, version fria by vindolet

Coloreado Kubera - Yuta humano/Leez sura by vindolet

Though none of the pieces they suggested have yet been featured, you should definitely keep an eye on the Daily Deviations page daily so you can see them when they're chosen for the honor!

YppleJax

YppleJax is currently an admin of three groups (Arori-Council, RomanceforEveryone, Encased-Fantasies) and recently hosted a contest for romantic literature. (Definitely take a minute to check out Fictasy's work there as well!) Now there is, of course, the ever-present meme if you're interested in practicing your stalking skills.