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: Kaz-D
Tell us what defines you as a person.
Oh gosh that's a tough one. I guess many people think they know the answer to it, but when you're actually asked... well! I think I'm defined by my work, family and hobbies. They've all combined over the years to make me who I am today.
Especially photography - Art. How did you found out about deviantART and why did you join the community?
A long time ago, a friend introduced me to dA as she was using it her art classes in America. I joined the community because back then, I was a writer (Or thought I was!). I hadn't even picked up a camera properly. When and how did you discover your passion for art?
It was probably around two years ago. I've always had a passion for drawing, but I was never any good at it! I went onto college and studied subjects I really didn't care that much for and watched whilst a friend studied Photography - and I got insanely jealous. I think then it started properly when I convinced my parents to buy a third of a DSLR for me. What inspires you the most and when do you think your creativity is at its maximum?
I'm most inspired by mornings that start off with clear blue skies and sunshine. It sounds cliched but that gets me out of bed a whole lot faster than a rainy day. That's also when creativity is at its maximum - that and sunsets, because I love those. What do you think you'd be doing if you hadn't chosen this path?
Probably exactly the same as what I'm doing now - minus photography! What do you think it's your most meaningful deviation and what makes it special? Does it have a story behind it?
In terms of meaningful it has to be part of the repatriation series I did. Each time a British soldier dies in combat he/she is repatriated back to England and specifically they were taken to RAF Lyneham. Then the coffin was driven through the streets of a local town - Wootton Bassett and hundreds and hundreds of people turned out to pay their respects. The family of the deceased always stood in the same place, and the british legion men turned out in full uniform to pay their respects. Nobody ever went down an empty street alone. That's all changed now, and they get flown to Brize Norton. But the series itself was one of the most poignant things I ever got the chance to shoot. Grief itself. Do you have any insecurities regarding your art?
I have loads. I stopped writing for a long time after I received a Daily Deviation for a literature piece, because I felt awful that such a strong real event was garnering such an accolade. But gradually I got over that. With photography, some days I'm less inspired than others, and those days are hard! Did art ever helped you to deal with your life problems?
Art has always helped me deal with life. Whether that's writing, photography or being on deviantART browsing others works. Art has been a huge escape for me in the past. What is the one thing you always wanted to do but never got a chance to?
I'm not sure... A few words for our fellow artists?
Create. Regardless of what anyone else thinks or might think, don't stop creating.
NowTrees bath in the dying light,
A silent wind makes the leaves dance,
And the shadows dance with them.
Water sparkles as bent rays hit,
Ripples producing a distorted view of the sky above.
Birds call out in the evening,
As if signaling the end of another beautiful day.
Will this paradise be there on the morrow?
I don't know, but there is one thing I know,
I am here, now.
DreamersThey were dancing in the room where the chandeliers burned as bright as the sun,
The music playing loud
But the laughter all around held the real melody.
Every step took a pain away from their hearts,
Every kiss washed away their innocent sins.
Then the hall vanished,
Another room appeared,
The room they had when they were little.
Same as they remembered it
It even looked as big.
Then they looked down, they were kids again.
The girls with sparkling gold wings were having tea on the fluffy clouds on a sunny day with their dolls,
And the boys were saving the world with the help of their action figures, a cape around their shoulders.
They were truly happy.
Now, they were back to the place where they most dreaded.
Where they lost, lost everything they ever wanted.
Some heard the razor sharp words screaming and screeching in their ears,
Nothing could block it out,
Others saw themselves fall hard on the concrete floor with no one to catch them.
They saw themselves lose
The martyr of loveI am still a stranger in your battlefield
My rifle on my shoulder, I do not mean to fight
My tears cutting the ground under your feet
You stand over my bleeding body
Your cold blade dripping your way out
You stab me, once and twice, you grin at my wounds
My blood meets the thirsty salty soil
They greet, they hug, they mate under your feet
They give birth to the wild bloody roses
Where every wound blooms once more
I hear your walk away, leaving my barren land
I pray for death to push the arrow deeper in my back
To take the last hopeless breath, the last breeze of love
Bury me where the old moon was born
Let my head rest in a land of cinnamon and honey
When the white hands arrive with their remedy
Tell them all my birds left me and flew north
I do not wish to heal, I do not pray for cure
Battered and broken, my heart left the shore
Cigar GirlA plume of smoke escaped her parting lips,
Twisting into a vine of vapour above her eyes,
Drifting through still summer air.
A glowing cigar, resting between her fingertips,
A lipstick print on the smooth roll.
She traced the skyline,
For fruit bats, and signs;
Telling her what she already knew.
Her smokey, heavily lidded eyes,
Sultry and uninviting.
Her brief smiles, short; not sweet.
"Whats your poison"
Words came in a deep southern drawl,
"Scotch; on the rocks"
She barely looked to the man behind her,
Closed her eyes and took one more drag,
Of smoke through her blood moon lips,
She teetered on the edge of seduction,
And they were lost in a pool of smoke.
Our guardian from God.The Fallen, The Reaper, he is our hero.
He protects you from your God, your pharoh.
He protects you from the angels, the evil ones.
Reaper protects all of you, the mortal ones.
Reaper's one purpose is to be a hero.
To be a guardian, protect you all with shadow.
But everyone is predicting the fall of man.
Judgement day, stop it if you can.
And as the end is nearing closer to you.
Humans realise all these words are true.
Reaper is your saviour and your guardian.
He will protect you, he is the only one that can.
Only an angel can save us from judgement day.
Only an angel can fight another angel.
The Fallen protects us, may he go with you on your way.
Only Reaper, can be our Fallen Angel.
is fun, silly and not so serious - this group loves life and art sharing. Anyone is welcomed, from anywhere in the world - and best of all, all forms of art are welcomed! Also, come say hi on their chat network #dAmnU
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