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LadyofGaerdon

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LadyofGaerdon

Devious Journal Entry

1 min read
Tried to do this as a status update (we do status updates now? I really should check in more) but should have known my wordiness would disallow it. So journal it is.

I am....on a 72-hour psych hold. They've got me on a medication that seems to be helping me, indicated for treatment of schizophrenia, bipolar and fun mixes of the two. I assure you this is not some sick idea of a Halloween joke. I just...feel like maybe my dA family understands a part of me I don't right now. Also I miss you guys. And really don't care if this looks like a pathetic cry for attention. I wanted to reach out and let everyone know. I still care deeply about people on dA who I haven't spoken with in ages. This submission process is frustrating me so I'll end here but I'll certainly reply to comments. But don't let me keep you from your costumes and candy. I love you guys. I'm messed up a bit and never around but I do.

about people on dA who I haven'in ages
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LadyofGaerdon

Hey Guys!

3 min read
 HI! I know I've been gone a while. I've missed you guys and this community and I know I left really suddenly. I just got overwhelmed. I was moderating for so many groups and I had such a huge comment backlog. I just kind of decided to quite cold turkey. Plus, I was moving across the country. 

Around this time I discovered there is this thing called book blogging in which random people make blogs where they post book reviews and give away massive amounts of books. SOmetimes they even get them free from publishers. I've won quite a few and I finally started my own blog. I've known for a while that if I wanted to be an author I need to have a blog, not just a dA page. (I'm still pouting about that). I also kind of realized that I need to read way more books so I have a better grasp of the market. Plus I just missed reading books when I was only reading stuff on dA, despite how amazing the quality of the writing is here. 

So bottom line? I'll be around, a bit. I'll try to respond to comments and such, but I don't have much time to browse and give feedback, the way I used to. If you guys want, you're more than welcome to follow my blog here: roseshadowink.wordpress.com

I renamed my novel (yes - again) "Rose Shadow" and I'll be posting updates about how the publishing is going there. If I make any major breakthroughs I will share them here. I know I owe you guys so much more for supporting me and my work. I tried to give back but I just got overwhelmed. I'm still immensely grateful.

I'll probably be publishing a book of poetry this year, so I'll keep you guys updated on that as well, here and on my blog. Say hi is you like. I'll endeavor to write back!

   - Rain

P.S. I see that in my absence I was awarded a DD. I am honored. Thank you. And thanks for the birthday wishes as well. I'm back in California with my family and doing much better health and emotions-wise.


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LadyofGaerdon

Spring Alliance Contest!

37 min read


:wave: Greetings, luminous Allies! It is my pleasure to announce the Spring Alliance Contest! :party:

:iconlit-visual-alliance:

What is the Alliance, you ask?

The Alliance is a project group intended to encourage visual and literary artists to work together. I've felt for some time that the dA Literature Community can at times be somewhat insular - to its detriment. We in the Lit Community are also sometimes prone to griping about the lack of exposure our work receives when compared to that of visual artists. So in the spirit of ^thorns brilliant Complaint Challenge I thought I would try to do something about that. And so the Alliance was born!


Because I, your founder, have a deep and abiding love for the seasons, this group now hosts seasonal contests, and as the Winter Contest is now over, it is time for Spring. ^^; I know I was a bit late in posting this one (sorry!), but considering how freaky the seasons are acting this year (at least around here!), we're still getting frost! So I'm still definitely in a spring mood and looking forward to all of your springy art! :iconifeelfluffyplz:

The contest starts right now, and ends July 15th. At that time, the Summer Contest will begin. :la:

The rules of the contest are simple: create a work of art, centered loosely around the theme of Spring, based on another work of art (literature based on visual artwork or visual artwork based on literature, in keeping with the theme of the group). The theme is very open to interpretation. I have provided some examples in the feature (though as always, you are allowed to use any spring-related deviation you choose). There are many spring-related themes from which you can choose: flowers, animals, warmer weather, spring rain, bees, bunnies, eggs, birds, the rebirth of light and warmth to the earth. Springtime holidays are also acceptable: St. Patrick's Day (past, I know, but still spring!), The Vernal Equinox, Easter (or Ostara) naturally, Beltaine (May Day), Earth Day, etc. I'm sure you'll think of something!


This does NOT have to be a new piece! HOWEVER, what I really don't want you to do is find an old spring poem or painting and then search for a corresponding artwork that you think kinda sorta goes along with it. That's cheating, my dears. This contest and this group is all about being inspired by different types of artwork! Also, it's unlikely to help you win. 
Entries will be judged on the following criteria, in order:
 :bulletyellow: How well the deviation ties into the inspiring piece.
:bulletgreen: How well the deviation ties into the Spring theme.
:bulletyellow: Impact
:bulletgreen: Quality
:bulletyellow: Creativity


PRIZES:


1st: 100 :points: + feature by LadyofGaerdon and Lit-Visual-Alliance

2nd: 75 :points: + feature by LadyofGaerdon and Lit-Visual-Alliance

3rd: 50 :points: + feature by LadyofGaerdon and Lit-Visual-Alliance

Deadline: July 15th
Entries are unlimited! Go wild! :iconlawooplz:

Please submit entries to the Spring Contest folder. 

To help you guys get into the spirit and start those creative juices flowing, here is a feature from our brand new Spring Inspiration favorites folders: Please note that the inspiring deviation does not have to be one of these! It's just to give you an idea. More Spring Inspiration can be found in our Favorites Folders and you are free to suggest Spring-themed pieces as well.


SpringtimeIt is winter on my breastbone,
Across my nose,
Down my arms,
Snowbanks of pale skin
At my shoulders, elbows, knees.
But a sudden spring emerges on my hipbone,
A rioting vibrant mass
Of blue-black-purple-green.
Brought on not by the warming of the weather,
Or a gentle rain,
But by a forceful collision with a table.
This bloom will wither soon,
Just like the real daffodils and irises.
The colors will fade,
And my skin will return to the tundra.  aphroditeclambering lips tumble over each other like
little deer stumbling into the headlights, where
blushing cupid's bows snap shut at the slightest
whisper of a touch; as summer's broken blossom
whistles into moss, suicidal and free-falling at a
twist of the wind, dripping through honeyed-hands and
trickling down wrists. words nuzzle breath, the air
staved of acoustics that choreograph faces closer; watching as
quivering eyes thrust new-born hope, where
restless hearts knock beneath a web of ribs,
screaming silently as bodies are poured into the
stitches of aphrodite's venomo(us) fly-trap.  Clair de LuneSometimes I imagine
That when Debussy penned this movement,
He hesitated with the title.
"Clair de Lune"…moonlight.
Perhaps he didn't have the courage
To add an "E" to the end of her name,
Immortalizing her in music.
The gentle chords pouring
From his piano describing
The peace with which she slept.
"Claire of the Moon."
She was the embodiment of dreams.
Indeed, with her hair spread out
In messy ringlets across the pillow,
The pale, spring-time glow
Of the moon hanging heavy
In the April sky
Gently casting its cool light
Through the half-open window,
Onto her faintly blushing cheek.
She looked ethereal,
Like a flower that opens for moonlight alone.
Imbued in this music is the tenderness
With which he desired
To move a stray curl from where it lay
Draped across her brow.
As the movement sweetly closes,
She gently wakes, smiling,
As I gently wake from the scene I created.
This exists in my imagination only,
The romantic in me dreaming
With the fictional Claire.  RosesYou love too much, I am told by a man with a briar heart, thorny sinews and collapsed ventricles bearing down on him, hardly beating in his tight chest. He looks at me with flat, slate eyes, chipping and eroding. His hands are dark with cigarette burns and rough with calluses; I feel them on my shoulders as he looks down at me, face collapsing in at his eyes like a dead man's.
For the first time, I realize he is dead. His briar heart dried up when winter killed his rose; my father, he is all thorns.
He squeezes my shoulders, too tight. You look like your mother, you know, he whispers, eyes shifting to the garden, to the yellow rose I planted for her. It is a rambler, sending shoots to the sky that sink back down. We never gave it a trellis. I loved her too much. And there are tears in his eyes, wet, heavy things that slip down his cheeks and on to the grass below us.
I don't know what to say, so I think of the rose, of her. I think that I'd like to send this   BloomIt's normal, you know.
Bruises flower under skin like lilies in a garden
Tears find their place just like water in the soil
They seep into the black
Nurture seedlings
And hurt grows so green and natural.
Pearl skin is supposed to go purple
It's as right as the rain.
So don't worry, don't fret
I'm art, you know, cross-stitching on the wall
An ivory piano key
Just as I should be
Because battered things are beautiful.
Feathers torn from silk pillows
And stick figures on balance beams
Aren't as loved, nor as adored,
Nor as beautiful as me.  cypress lady.Lost in a fog, a stranger walks.
Dressed in shadows,
she creeps.
Alone, she whispers
nondescript words in a language
no-one hears,
for no-one cares to listen.
In the shade
of an ageing cypress tree,
she lies beneath the boughs.
In the soft, soft grass,
she sighs as she dozes.
The sun hides behind a cloud,
and the quiet shadows grow cold.
As she opens her eyes, she shivers,
her grassy bedding turning to ice
as she is lost to the pleasantries
of dreams.
She looks out,
and from the realms of her shadows
can see a faint light
past the leafy threshold.
Standing, she walks
slowly to the edge,
staring out.
She stretches her hand out,
testing the lighter air.
Gasps. Flinches, snatches it back
into the darkness.
Despite the hidden sun, the air is warm.
(Yet why do I not burn?)
She is in wonder.
Although she yearns
to illuminate herself,
she hesitates to step beyond the shade.
Not once
has she stood in the full bright beams
of the sun,
not once.
Fear –
What will happen  PersephoneI fed her
pomegranate kisses
and she cried
at every frozen sunrise
for 180 days.
With cracks in my heart
and souls
caught in my hair
I counted 180 more.   Grating RaspsIt courses and winds like air through veins,
Falls languidly through space, red as wax, drips
From barren branches full with leaves,
From sighs and outstretched fingertips.
It howls in silver song from the moon-top
Grips like ice and as ice does, lets go.
Stars and hollowness gently fall,
As it's all that nothingness will ever know.
It shudders and shatters in scarlet decay,
Breaks like waves of unblemished sound,
Until scattering, piece by crystalline piece
To the dusty, earth caked, green-strewn ground.
It leaves forms laying in beds of growth,
Traces rivers through rock before treading back.
It resonates through choking and grasps hungrily at light,
Extinguishing black for greater, water soaked black.
        And it comes as easily as it goes,
        Goes as though it never came. :thumb308054888:  InstructionsWear dreamsong like a gown
wear rainscent like a cloak
no shoes, your bare feet know the way
in and out the twisted place
tell them you don't know your name
yet don't dare to actually forget
listen to the honey light fiddle
but forbid your feet to dance
for the music is enchanting
and your feet won't stop
when you want to leave
sing a homesong, follow your feet
through dark forest, over fragile bridge
unknown paths, an open door
you will never find back.  strawberriesdrops of rain explode
into colors on your outstretched hands,
blossoming as roses
like bright ripe strawberries.
and when you roam enchanted gardens,
nothing is ever as it seems…
one moment a blade of grass
and the next one of many feathers
on the wing of a bird
about to take flight.
no matter how you try
gravity is wiser,
and you are bound to come down from the clouds.
millions of heartbeats like yours
all search for the same thing
and will find each other someday.  Elegy Of A Lost SeasonI am the fall.
Broken in June, buried in August -
haunting September from the boughs of hazel,
where not even the rain could reach me.
How my limbs ached to feel its soothing caress;
but my limbs felt nothing, and I felt nothing.
And the season moved on, without me.
Once, long ago, I was spring,
delicate and pure; fragile as willow seedlings,
believing themselves strong, as they stretch toward the sun -
before the wind breaks their stalks, and they fall
defeated, drained, limp upon the ground;
crushed and forgotten as tears.
But no, I was summer -
when I looked into your eyes for the first time
and forgot to curse the sun.
Tiny beads running down my neck;
hateful, so hateful - ignored, as you ensnared my senses.
You were summer, too
cradled in the branches of oak,
bright enough to burn my eyes and scorch my skin,
but never close enough to touch.
Until in your arms, I became summer,
and the sun could not outshine us.
But now I am winter -
numb and cold, faded, stripped and desolate;
a s  :thumb203486410:  CamelliasThe carcasses
of pink camellia blossoms
litter the sidewalk,
a school of tropical fish
escaped from their captors' net
and gasping
for air.
I wait for them to rise
into the sky,
a flock of bright angels,
fins turned toward the clouds.
They will bloom again tomorrow,
this I know.  Atlanticyou were the ghost
who made the apple fall.
.
and no,
it's not you,
sometimes the seeds
turn into trees
or flowers, strange
incarnations of
the strangest force,
and, at other times,
the wind lifts them away
so they never
touch the ground.
there's nothing left but course.
.
of course you are, but i must know;
do you go door to door,
knocking on the stars?
reality: just
an architect's answer
to a philosopher's question.
.
over the atlantic you sing
like the end who just learned
he was a beginning.
over the atlantic you sing:
"god is an ocean,
and you can only pray
by kneeling on the ground."  Apple BlossomYour blush is fading;
windswept, you shudder gently
fragrant petal tears  One Day I Shall Lay Down And Dieone day i shall lay down and die
and so for now here is my kiss, my golden-ness,
my forehead pressed against yours
like two strange animals lost on a plain of
red sand. one day i shall lay down and die so
now here, let these birds pick me apart,
show you it all, the torn underwear
and the girl gazing at the soft glow
on trees, the ferocious lion-love
weeping under the kitchen table. one day
i shall lay down and die
so for now i feast on beaches, your breath,
the flutter of my dress sore against my skin
someday i will find that peace,
plant a spring-flower deep in my heart, land one last cool kiss
on the bow of your mouth and slip away, i know that one day
i will lay down and die but for now
feel your fingers spread across my heart,
feel my roar in the night :thumb202708923:  Only as Old"Frail bones predict what fragile minds can't detect,"
He trailed off slowly, "And my bones are achin'."
The air around me hung low and depressed,
Sticking to the back of my throat like a stormy syrup
I'd tried to swallow down.
I peered out the kitchen window
And caught an inklet of patched-over-grey sky;
I wondered what was in store for the day.
Impartial to the gloom outside, we stepped out onto the back porch;
Grandpa wobbled out with his cane in hand and we waited.
In the hushed stillness the trees traded birds—
Robins, swallows, whippoorwills, and cardinals.
If you squinted hard enough at the sullen shrubbery,
You could spot the caterpillar creeping to the underside of the leaf.
That's when I looked at Grandpa,
And saw through his eyes nature receding
At his prescience of a storm.
"Grandpa, how do you always know?"
He chuckled and simply said: "The world tells me."
It was left at that, but years later I have found
That the world is only as old as the person to whom you speak. 

Heart by Davidjulianlopez  apple tree by AndreyBobir  Shine so bright by ziggy90lisa  ka tyou zou getu by PassionateSnuff  Mutually assured destruction by Acrylicdreams  what way is up? by WorldWar-Tori Angels by NicolasEvariste  The Path by stevegoad  Orbs of Water by AtomicBrownie :thumb159158816:  Daybreak by patriciabrennan  Rest in peace by WiltingBlackRose  Double Rainbow by Celem :thumb209219275:   Butterflies and Fairytales by FriendFrog :thumb186101661:  robin by nakitez  Spring flood by szorny-stock  Ember by anndr  Flying away by CristaliaART  Mother nature by BettaArtusiArt :thumb202396708:  Under Protection by sekhmet-neseret  Rose's Morning Rinse by DaphneNg  Spoiled by enayla  Hellden by zardo  Coming Home by MorkelErasmus :thumb337426302:  poised to blossom by m00nchild313  Spring Blossoms 10 by livetodream215  Parenthood by LucieJirankova  :thumb285639370:  Nature's Art by AnthonyPresley  Courtship Dance by FForns  What? Up there? by Egil21  Sneak Attack by Nate-Zeman :thumb210226812:  Bonded by Picturingit  Rainy days by BogdanBoev  flowers and butterflies by sinvia  a lover's dance by ariseandrejoice  Twitter by faisalh  Jewel by DaisyDinkle   Hey Dude..... by thrumyeye  Roses of Spring by la-sera  P1040628 v by VlatkoPG :thumb203566578:    To brave the Snow by RowanLewgalon   Time Suspension by SteffiSTEREO :thumb227171442:  Earth Day by WhiteHowler7  I Wish I Could Fly... by AimishBoy  Spring by ElvenstarArt   trapeze artist by dralik :thumb207507853:  we are family by Digi-M  Pieris rapae by SelvaggioRocker  Blackbird Spring by lionsandyellowcake  Sparkling Shamrock by RowanLewgalon  Spring by Jennyeight  Converging by IvanAndreevich  Spring's soft light by CatherineNodet  Fauna by PinkParasol  Fairies-nurses by Fantasy-fairy-angel  Silent lullaby by Anna-Marine  :thumb213524335:  stranggled by Alicechan  Spring is coming .. by KariLiimatainen  Contemplating Spring by rooze23  Viridian Window by riysse  Blooms in the heart... by PassionateSnuff  Spring Melody by alexa-asta  SPRING by yaamas  Spring by lourdessaraiva  NAL Contest: A Spring's Promise by Sieskja  Spring by Si3art  Nymph of the forest by ClairObscurArt  Naked Spring by AkubakaArts

Now go and get creating! :eager: 

The :iconlit-visual-alliance: Team: :iconladyofgaerdon: :iconevlydia: :iconazizriandaoxrak: :iconquiestinliteris: :iconvigilo:


P.S. Re-upping our Super-group subscription pretty much killed my :points: collection....^^; So any prize donations you guys can offer would be deeply appreciated. :worship: :D


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LadyofGaerdon

The Kimareah Series - Featured With Exuberance!

16 min read


:iconbummyballoonplz: Today is the birthday of my good friend Kat, and so I am taking the opportunity to feature her new Facebook page for her book series! 
:party:

Here on deviantART, Kat goes by

:iconmindlesspuppettoy:

:iconfineevehelp1::iconfineevehelp2::iconfineevehelp3:

Kat is the author of 


This series is many years in the making, and Kat is working diligently to finish it up and release so we can all gobble it up. Just look at all those notes! :faint:
:iconfineevehelp1::iconfineevehelp2::iconfineevehelp3:

The first book, Child of Thrae, is nearly completed, and so Kat has opened a Facebook page to allow all her adoring fans to follow her soon-to-be-illustrious literary career! 
:icondoctorthumbsupplz:

When Kat's page reaches 50 likes, she will be hosting a contest, the nature of which is super-secret but doubtless will be lots of fun. So please check it out! 
:squee:

deviantARTist medders is the cover artist for The Kimareah Series, and you can see some of his illustrations here. 
:dance:

As stated on Kat's Facebook page:

The Chronicles of the Ethrelian Era follows the story of a young human girl named Kimareah, who is kidnapped from her homeland by a group of rogue elves. She is taken to a mysterious new world which is in the midst of an ancient war. Kimareah soon discovers that the multiple warring parties are fighting to either control her or kill her. Upon her arrival, Kimareah must decide which side she will choose to fight for if she wishes to return to her homeland. Thus is ushered in the first novel of the Chronicles of the Ethrelian Era: Child of Thrae.

I can't wait! 
:iconpenguinhappyplz:

Now, I shall feature a sampling of Kat's work here on dA, so you can get a taste of her awesomeness:


Which Color, Which?What do you see?
I see everything: vivid, entwined, breathing; growing.
Every drop of radiant color sings to me a new song.
Let me breathe, let me sing; let me shout in exaltation!
Let me bleed, let me burn, let me fall; let me die.
Keep me from my fate and keep me from my life.
Hide me from their light; hide me from their darkness.
Can you feel them? Can you feel the colors?
They are separate, so far away!
Let them blend together, let them paint my picture.
Let them merge to tell my story before I fade like they do.
I can feel all of my colors aching inside:
Red is my lover – passionate and burning.
Orange is my warmth – glowing and still.
Yellow is my sickness – growing and aching.
Green is my mother – safe and warm.
Blue is my heaven – untouchable and high.
Purple is my vain – envious and hidden.
Pink is my image – smeared and broken.
Black is my killer – livid and powerful.
Gray is my mourning – present and dark.
White is my end
A poem written from the 
perspective of Kat's main character.
:iconfineevehelp1::iconfineevehelp2::iconfineevehelp3:

Can I Ask Your Secrets?Secrets... Will you trust them? Can you? I can answer that... Don't turn around.
Can I stare at you? Of course... I smirk and you know why I'm smirking.
Can I look into your eyes? Why not... I see what's behind them.
Can I touch your arm? Why... I know why you're so warm.
Can I ask why you're so nervous every time I touch your skin? No... Your goose bumps amuse me, they make me smirk. They tell me I'm closer.
You see, you know I know everything... Everything about you, inside and out.  
I know what you hide, I know why you hide. I see why you cringe when they speak; I hear what you say when you sleep, when you swallow; when you moan. Do you not know who I am to you, what I am to you? You know I can tell them everything about you, everything about your past, your present and your future. I can see all, I can tell all; I know all.
I can see you shudder. You're a shell of a man, and you know that I know that. This is why you hide here, inside your min
A piece from a villain's perspective.
:iconfineevehelp1::iconfineevehelp2::iconfineevehelp3:

Righteous Baest: Introduction"Should I become what I was in my past, let me wilt away to the earth and die in shame.
Should I be persecuted for who I was in my past, let me stand against the torrents of doubt with unfathomable determination.
Should I allow such history as the past to craft my future, let me then become one more to the many who walk the beaten path.
Should I shame my elders with what I have become, let me turn away from their stares with pride and become persecuted.
I am who I am now, not who I was before, and let no one pass judgment upon me until the very works of time reveal what I truly have become.
Only when we remember the past do we remember to learn from our mistakes.
One life, one beginning; one end before a new life has begun. This is the way it shall always be."
Aeltrex smiled the widest grin his face could hold, as the last of The Oath fell from his scaly lips with perfect diction and timeless recitation. Under the soft glow of candlelight, the framed parchment which held the wor  Creator: TDW Round IIIDay thirteen. Time unknown; place known and yet unknown.
I just broke through the Fourth Wall a mere four days ago… I hope they'll let me back over it when I'm done here. I can see it now, my characters all secretly plotting in that corner over there – in the back of my mind – to tie cinder blocks to my feet so I can't climb back over. Look at me and my imagination running ramped again. They haven't been hostile like I thought they would; especially when I stated who I was… Traveling with the others has been quite the experience; I can only write so much but experiencing it is another thing: a pure and exhilarating joy. However, I am perturbed by the warnings that the scouts return with. News of their enemy brings dread to the armies; so I must build their morale. I know I am no to meddle; yet I feel if I don't the entire congregation will simply melt away in a single pool of sorrow. Their world will bleed out and I will have been the one who allowed it to happen
An intriguing pair of stories in which
Kat meets her own characters.
:iconfineevehelp1::iconfineevehelp2::iconfineevehelp3:

:iconclappingraccoonplz:

And just a sampling of Kat's work that I particularly like. She's a talented photographer and digital artist as well. :)
To See What You Are by mindlesspuppettoy  Flawless by mindlesspuppettoy  How Did I Ever Let You Go?Dear Long Lost Friend,
I know you're not real; I know you don't breathe, but to me you're alive in every way possible.
Wherever you are, near or far, I miss you dearly; I truly do.
I know not what has happened, but I know you're not gone; you haven't left me forever.
I'm in despair for I've forgotten, there's a world somewhere where I used to be loved.
A world you used to show me, full of castles and dragons, towers and maidens; space rangers and starships; pirates and vast seas.
I really miss you; I truly do. I would never lie to you because you'd never lie to me, so this is why I must write this.
You taught me pain, happiness, empathy and so much more. You showed me how to cope with what I felt and you proved to me that forcing the end is never the answer.
Your honesty was what made me fall in love; your adventures never ending and stories always captivating.
You are truly a thing of beauty, a creature I will never understand.
Cover like a door, waiting to be opened so  For You, Milady by mindlesspuppettoy  Child of the Forest by mindlesspuppettoy  Inspiration Isn't Always Good by mindlesspuppettoy  Take A Seat by mindlesspuppettoy  What Did You Want From Me? by mindlesspuppettoy
:iconfineevehelp1::iconfineevehelp2::iconfineevehelp3:



Thanks for reading and please go check out her page! 
:iconpenguinpleaseplz:




CSS credit goes to:
Stock: Dragoroth-stock, little-spacey, mimose-stock, Dralliance-Stock, Dracoart-Stock, gaiastock, CAStock
Brushes: iMouritsa
Coding & graphics: kuschelirmel-stock
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LadyofGaerdon

Results of the Winter Alliance Contest!

17 min read


 :wave: Hello my wonderfully patient Allies! It's time to announce the winners of our Winter Alliance Contest! :la:


:iconlit-visual-alliance:

What is the Alliance, you ask?

The Alliance is a project group intended to encourage visual and literary artists to work together. I've felt for some time that the dA Literature Community can at times be somewhat insular - to its detriment. We in the Lit Community are also sometimes prone to griping about the lack of exposure our work receives when compared to that of visual artists. So in the spirit of ^thorns brilliant Complaint Challenge I thought I would try to do something about that. And so the Alliance was born!


So, I am a very bad Supreme Alliance Queen. I know. Judging took me forever, and I am very sorry. I could make excuses about how I was the only judge, or how I've lost count of how many times I've been sick since they dropped my heath insurance in February, but I don't want to bore you, so I'll just ask for your forgiveness and announce the winners now...:ashamed:

We got a decent number of entries (though this time only had visual-to-lit entries though, so hopefully next contest we'll have more variety), and choosing the winners was not easy. But winners were chosen, and here they are:


:star: First Place :star:



  Dance of the (rainbow) white, rainbowBedecked in white, she came,
Silent footsteps melted as she beckoned;
'To winter cometh thee' said she,                                                              
And taunting, teasing uttered: 'Thou cans't resist me';
Come stay a while in my silent, calm and quiet woods,
Come rest a while, lay your weary head upon my drifts;
I'll crown thee with my flakes,
Resplendent jewels of heaven made;
And finest flutes of old oak trunks I'll play,
Sing a mournful tune of old, with wolves for baritones
And creaking of the branches, under heavy load, for rhythm;
Come Play my love,
Your crown of fire dazzles me, even if it burns,
Your footsteps melt my heart as new shoots upwards strain;
You bring the deer and robins, dear, to chatter in my ear,
And whilst my muse is soft and fragrant linen, yours is water through a prism, dear;
***
Assembled footsteps, danced together in the round, in the middle met
***
I'll Play my love, play the game of old;
As all good elves are told, as soon as it gets cold
by ChildoftheBeat
 
:iconfineevehelp1::iconfineevehelp2::iconfineevehelp3:

inspired by

  Winterspell by GingerKellyStudio
by GingerKellyStudio
 
:iconfineevehelp1::iconfineevehelp2::iconfineevehelp3:


The author really paid attention to capturing the very 
essence of the inspiring image. The words and images are enchanting 
and the rhythm is lyrical and spell-like. This poem is gorgeous 
and magical, just like the image that inspired it.



:star: Second Place :star:



Mists of Luetalse
I was raised to know each slope and crevice of my island, to understand its movements and temperaments. I have bordered the entire circle of rock more than once, getting to know my home as if it were the visage of a close sibling.
My father first took me on the thirty-day journey when I was very young, in the early spring, describing the land as though we were birds in the sky, as I ravenously absorbed the scenery, drawing each detail on a mental map. At that time, our island, which is really the head of a dormant volcano, Mt. Luetalse surrounded by sulfured water, was still half submerged in the surplus of melted ice and scuttled up the cliff-side. We walked carefully on thin, rocky margins between circular pools, seeing clearly the rim of sky along the wall of ashen steam that endlessly escaped the tip of the central mountain.
In the winter however, the steam is visible from everywhere at once; it leaks from cracks in the ground, comes up amidst the half-frozen pools in large bubbles
:iconfineevehelp1::iconfineevehelp2::iconfineevehelp3: 

inspired by

:iconfineevehelp1::iconfineevehelp2::iconfineevehelp3:  

kamalaksh took this fascinating image of a beautiful 
but forbidding land, and created an entire fantasy world 
out of it, with its own unique culture and peoples, complete
with an intriguing guide for a narrator.


In Third Place



Offering
Dax bent her head over the tiny dancing flames in her palm, trying to absorb every lick of heat she possibly could. The tongues of fire were small and weak, flickering on the edge of extinction, but she kept them alive through the sheer power of her will.
A particularly cold gust of wind caught her by surprise, breaking her concentration. With a hiss, the flames went out.
“No!” Dax half-shouted, half-groaned. She snapped her fingers, but they didn’t spark. She tried again, desperate for some warmth, but it was hopeless. Between her frustration and the cold, it just wasn’t going to happen.
She ran a hand through her bright red hair and sighed. Practicing frustrated her. She had no idea what she was doing, and trial-and-error was only getting her so far. She couldn’t even keep the fire alive for more than two minutes, and she had a feeling that there was so much more potential locked up inside her, waiting to escape through her fingers.
And then there was Pi
:iconfineevehelp1::iconfineevehelp2::iconfineevehelp3: 

inspired by

:iconfineevehelp1::iconfineevehelp2::iconfineevehelp3: 

I loved how the author took the inspiring image
and created a situation to explain the strange 
predicament of the subjects. So many of the components
of the inspiring image made it into the story, even as
the author spun world of her own around it.



:star: Honorable Mention :star:



:thumb355788869:
by dagoth-jeff
:iconfineevehelp1::iconfineevehelp2::iconfineevehelp3: 

inspired by

:iconfineevehelp1::iconfineevehelp2::iconfineevehelp3: 

Ooh, I love that first line! It drew me in instantly. 
dagoth-jeff captures all the haunting mystery 
of the inspiring image in his poem.


Please check out all of our entries here! Thanks to everyone who entered!

Frost Fern DragonsLeaping lightly across the clear glass, the frost dragon left a cold trail behind as it traversed the distance between itself and another of its kind. Bigger than it, the new frost dragon strengthened briefly, ferns of ice trailing from its head and neck and creeping across the window. The first one faltered, stopping farther away than it would have liked. Frost fern dragons were extremely fragile, the mere mention of heat enough to send them scurrying away, tiny ice creatures leaping over the windowpane.
The bigger dragon studied the smaller one for a moment before allowing its new neck ferns to merge with the rest of its body, ceasing the threatening display of power. The smaller one responded by raising fragile wings and leaping upwards, climbing the slick, vertical, two-dimensional world that was all it knew. The bigger followed, and for a while the two frost fern dragons danced around each other, each rejoicing in the presence of another as they left trails of miniscule ice drople inspired by  Day 39 by FramedByNature

Heart of IceShe wanted to be the Snow Queen.
None of us could understand it-- we all wanted warm and sun and away-from-here-please, but she wanted to be the Snow Queen. The ruler of the winters we all hated.
She told us this on the ancient playground floored in cracked concrete full of metal swings and metal slides and metal monkey bars, under a flat dark sky that looked more like a far-off roof than clouds, playing with a dead weed the color of wet cardboard that had worked its way through one of the hairline fractures in the cement we stood on, and the only color was our jackets, and even they looked washed out.
One of us asked her why, and she said, "Because everything in winter is gray and brown and dead and ugly-- except snow. Snow is white and blue and pure and beautiful. I want to be able to make it snow."
She always talked like that.
Maybe we didn't understand her. Maybe we didn't want to. Maybe some of us did want to, but were scared to try. And maybe she was lonesome because of it. But s inspired by  The Snow Queen. by nymphs-and-the-wolf

Until Next SummerThe breath of winter lives on the surface of the water
Hot cold steam that takes a calm respite over the stirring creek
No fish to be welcomed by, no bright copper scales
Just the creek below that moves despite the snow
A vagabond rests his wings at a nearby branch adorned with ice
His brown speckled feathers ruffle from the breeze as he sings
He whistles a tune of relief, shakes his tail feathers
And settles down onto his branch, his cot for the night
The trees and bushes creak from underneath their white burden
Flurries of their cold guest continue to litter atop their bare arms
Like a visitor that has overpacked for their stay
And has in turn overstayed their welcome
Through the bleak mist remain the hot and summer memories of old
Shadow, light and wind tell tall tales of lilacs in the snow
The earth grins a welcome as the sun breaks overhead
But she is fickle and then earth freezes again inspired by  river view by KariLiimatainen

:thumb343837125: inspired by :thumb291006857:





Our Spring Contest will be announced in a few days! :eager: Also! I WILL be renewing our super-group subscription, so fear not! :squee:

Until next time...

The :iconlit-visual-alliance: Team: :iconladyofgaerdon: :iconevlydia: :iconazizriandaoxrak: :iconquiestinliteris: :iconvigilo:


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