Right. I'm exhausted, but I'm pretty much ready to go.
For those of you who hadn't already gathered: I'm going to Cardiff University to do a BMus in Music (shock-horror). I'm moving into my accommodation tomorrow; Freshers' Week starts on Monday, though there's very little that's caught my fancy; and my lectures start on October 3rd.
I'm going to be busy.
I will try to still be producing art, but I cannot say how much I'll be online. I'll have net connection, and I'll try to get through messages and the like, but I don't think I'll be able to go through everything.
If you have something important to let me know, tell me. If you have a deviation you want me to look at, drop me a comment with a link. I will not ignore dA. I love you guys, I don't want to abandon you. But please, forgive me for being fairly inactive.
Also, I'm going to delete all the favourites on the cakes. I cannot thank you all! There's more than 400 activity alerts in my box, and I do not have the time to thank you all individually on those, so I'm going to just have a general "thank you" on each of them. Then I can thank people individually for the smaller things I do during the rest of the year!
Um. Anyway, I need to go to bed. I wanted to do a long and thoughtful journal, but I have no energy. But I don't mind, as sleeping is good, and I only got three hours' sleep last night as I had a sleepover at ~BlueRhubarb
's house, and we watched Star Wars IV-VI until the early hours of the morning, and then watched TV and chatted even longer. I woke up at 7.30, everyone else was up by 11.30.
But I really needed that contact with friends, and doing something silly.
Anyway. Bed. I shall see you soon, I'm sure.
Love and prayers,
First 14 people to comment on this journal will get a feature - there are rules, but I won't enforce them myself.
REQUIRED: If you do comment, you're expected to do the same in your own journal; putting me in first place, completing the list with 14 other people to make a sum of 15 people. The idea behind this is NOT to get a free feature but to help spread art and artists around for everyone.
I copied this from ~StarSubeki's journal. Here are my three favourite pieces from her:
But yes, the first 14 people to comment on this journal gets a free feature. It would be nice if you did the same, as it's good to spread the love, but I won't be hounding you down.
1. How do I pick just three? There's so much gorgeous photography in your gallery!
:thumb197698964: :thumb48524751: :thumb98346021:
Um, this lovely, fantastic lady has her deviations in storage, so I can't really show you any of her writing... but she's amazing!
(I know that last one's from your old account but still.)
Autumnal TreasureTime moves on day by day,
Summer, spring, autumn, winter,
Each dies and is born anew,
Bearing gifts on its way through.
Winter with an icy chill,
Howls menacingly in the ear,
Killing the soul,
Depressing the view,
It moves on slowly,
As new hope draws closer.
In comes spring with grace and promise,
The chill lifts,
Both manage to ruin the image,
A season of hope and beauty,
Viewed only through rose lenses.
Summer lazily raises its head,
Holiday-makers take to the road,
Sitting for hours going nowhere,
Others laze in a garden chair,
Too hot t
A World Benath, A World BelowSitting beneath a canopy of green, white and pink I rest,
Its heavenly scent creeping down from above,
Its intoxicating tendrils embracing me as I ease in summer's paralysis.
Before me sits the great mirror,
The dark fluid holding many mysteries in its infinite depths,
Yet the surface reveals only the here and now.
The longer I gaze into this inky pool the more intense its hold over me,
Deeper in I'm pulled, my soul draining,
Merging with the dark portal lost within the deep catacombs of the underside.
Far from reach I desperately attempt to cling onto the above,
Alas it is too late.
As I plunge forever down the icy coolness ebbs
The place you return to after each hard day.
The little haven offering peace and warmth.
Its happy aura and promise of security,
tempts us to enter its open mouth.
Not for me.
The place I return to after each school day.
The cold, grey box of false promise.
Its depressed expression and run-down eyes,
makes me wonder why.
Why do I enter?
greeted by razor-sharp tongues,
belonging to harpies screeching day and night,
lashing me constantly with their voices,
driving me to misery and despair.
The sun sets,
its hopeful glow vanishing under creeping darkness.
With the darkness comes a veil of fear.