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Make a Difference aims to do exactly that. This series of articles will hopefully make a difference to you as well as the artists featured weekly. Just by giving one minute of your time to write constructive comments, favourites and even watches will make a difference to these artists.
Some of ~Copper-Wire's photographs are lovely in their vintage tone. Perspective is brilliant in many of the pieces too, the subject approached in an intriguing way overall.
~Copper-Wire's Gallery
really captures the action well in her literature, especially her prose, though her poetry is also effect in impact. Either way, you'll definitely be gripped by many of the pieces in her gallery!
The moonpeopleThe boy sat on the windowsill, lazily swinging his legs. His thin face and dark eyes glowed under the moonlight's spell. He gazed upon the nightime queen's face, adoring every aspect, longing to be there.~ An extract from The moonpeople
"I'm lucky" he thought, "to see such beauty". He felt unworthy to contemplate it. But there she was, benevolent as any queen, casting her magical rays upon Earth. A cloud crossed the sky and hid the queen from the boy's sight.
He was disheartened, sad an angry at the same time, for watching the full moon was one of his most prized delights. The temporary absence of his beloved queen remembered where he was: Earth. The boy heard the distant hooting of an owl, accompanying the drunken singing of the local bar. He played closed attention to it, cocking his head towards its direction. Even though he couldn't comprehend the lyrics, he could hear its nostalgic melody.
The wind brought him the sweet smell of country flowers. The crickets chirped in the chill of the night. Soon, t
"The boy floated as light as a feather. An overflowing happiness invaded his body; the boy began to laugh. Thrilled with his luck, he stretched his arms towards the Moon and began to fly, leaving not only the garden, but his house, the bar, the whole town behind."
Hit and Run"The bastard survived, huh?"~ An extract from Hit and Run
Before Paul or Tal'Shen had time to react, Maya's blade was at Paul's throat, pushing him to the back of the wall. Maya's face was inches away from Paul's, her teeth bared.
"This is what Lysanna, first born of Neiptiún, sends for battle? A tadpole?" The unearthly high-pitched laugh sent a chill down Paul's spine.
"Paul, This Is Our Chance, You Must Distract Her!" Tal'Shen's voice ringed in Paul's head, and he felt imbued with bravery...or blind stupidity.
"You bitch! A few minutes ago I thought you're a friend , now you' re the enemy? Just who or what are you?"
"What I am? Well, love, certainly more than a woman"
Horrified, Paul watched transfixed as Maya's hair morphed into slimy tentacles.
"Brace Yourself! Here She Comes!"
"Maya withdrew the tentacle from Paul's ear, a crimson river seeping out of it. The room came back into view, and Paul saw a triumphant smile on Maya's semblance. Her Blade was swung high into the air; Paul closed his eyes, dreading the moment of the strike. But the sound of struggle reached his ears."
The magic of wordsWalls. Big, lifeless, grey-coloured walls. She hated them. And she was trapped inside them. They said it was her own wrong doing that had sent her to that place. It was a crime, they pronounced, to dance with words.~ An extract from The magic of words
Words...they were the huntress of the powerful...and the weapon of the dreamers.
Her stomach lurched in protest, dragging her out of her reverie. Two weeks had passed since the last time she had something to eat. A guard walked into her cell, left a tray at her feet and left. No words were exchanged. Not even a pitiful look. His eyes were vacant and she felt no surprise as she saw the grey tinge surrounding his pupils.
Those walls...
She ran her hand on their surface, feeling the smoothness of the cold cement. There was a time, she remembered, when she could destroy walls with the power of words.
She could see them, her words, permanently marked upon the grey flesh. They were scars, the ugly marks on ha
"Her stomach lurched in protest, dragging her out of her reverie. Two weeks had passed since the last time she had something to eat. A guard walked into her cell, left a tray at her feet and left. No words were exchanged. Not even a pitiful look. His eyes were vacant and she felt no surprise as she saw the grey tinge surrounding his pupils. "
~Sayuri14's Gallery
's creations are stunning! Art is either surreal or abstract in *Xantipa2-2D3DPhotoM's gallery, but, nevertheless, very interesting to look at and provocative in thought and concept.
*Xantipa2-2D3DPhotoM's Gallery
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