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Battle in my MindEat.
Take it easy.
Work out until you pass out.
Get help.Tell someone.
Keep it a secret. It's only for you and me.
Why won't you listen?
They don't understand.
Let me help you.
You don't understand.
I love you..
I KnowI know what you really think of me
I know you want me gone
I know whenever my mouth opens you cringe
I know you think I’m stupid
I know you wish I would die
I know people hate me
I know I’m really stupid
I know I don’t get you
I know you don’t get me
I know you wish we really never met
And I’m sorry...
Artist Association? - Commissions and UnderpricingI'd like to appeal to every artist (ESPECIALLY for those who offer commissions) to read this.
Please consider to SHARE THIS, if art means anything to you. Thanks!
Building an Artist Association? - About Commissions and Underpriced Art
So underpriced art has always been a well-known problem in the artist society; Be it visual arts or artisan and crafts, literature or any other artform. This is a huge problem for every professional artist who depends on living from art.
Only because art seems to be something anybody can do, it is often less respected than renown occupations such as doctors or engineers.
As an illustration student I know it is more or less the same thing though. There is always need for art (e.g. advertising, logos, book illustrations) just as there is need for doctors and engineers. In
SweepAs soon as he stepped into the open field, he slung the minesweeper from his shoulder and pointed its nose to the ground. It was old, worn and heavy, and old and rough, calloused and breaking, and old. The metal between his hands was cold and chilled his fingers. If he was not careful he could step on the very mines he was trying to find. They would have to pick up the pieces of his body and to send the tags home where his wife would cry and hold his son and daughter close with nothing to show them of their father but a piece of metal engraved with "Ajeet Singh".
One sweep, than another.
This war had taught him to never trust open spaces. Open spaces were where the mines were planted, where Prets lay in wait. France was green and damp just like the uniform he wore. It had been days since he was separated from his unit, and now the Allies were breathing on his neck, searching for POW’s, searching for the enemy of which he was one. &
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More