dA Announcements Issue 004.

A weekly news article with information of news, chats, staff opportunities, group information and contests brought together in one place.

Please take the time to read through, and remember, if you want YOUR news published then you can do one of the following three to get a slot next week:
Note the-photographicpoet with dA Announcements in the title and the relevant information
Comment in the dA Announcements Forum found on the-photographicpoet's page
Comment on her journals/page, although this is a NOT a secure way of getting a slot, whereas the other 2 are!

dAannouncements on Twitter!
So throughout the week, your news can be published through Twitter and it's also a quick, easy way to let Sammie know about your news!


A Personal Comment from Sammie
Each week the dA Announcement articles grow, and it brings me a great sense of communal pride when people respond in the positive ways that they have. Next week I want to do something special and I also want to start incorporating birthdays and tutorials into the article, so if you have anything related to these two areas then please feel free to let me know.

Thanks you to everyone who has made this possible

Groups and Opportunities

now would be a good timeyou make me nervous
and it means something wrong and gorgeous and wonderful and terrible, and i'm nervous about being nervous. i'll turn my bedsheets inside out for you, so that the stripes are outside and the hours are inside and no one but me can find them again. i'll be a quill for you, like a porcupine's, and i'm nervous so i'll stab you and hurt you and never want to leave you.
you make me nervous, you do, you do; you make me think of creosote and cicidas and the smell of desert just before it rains and stuck on a mountain counting stars while the ravens tell me how i live in a glass castle and all the coyotes want to come inside. (i shouldn't let them though, they'll only steal my ribs in my sleep, they'll sing me songs so i won't be nervous and paint asteroids under my eyes and tell me why my fingers are tingling, and then i'll fall asleep and they'll eat my entrails.)
you're a baobab, you're an alien and you made me a fox waiting nervously as four o'clock turns over on its side :thumb123701350:
Silent TragedyImmediately upon entering the house, I could feel it. There was something in the air. Unspoken words, a silent tragedy that they were all avoiding. Momma, sitting in her old rocker, gazed out the window at the sunset like the warm, calming colors were lying to her. Kimmy was sprawled across the floor, her head on her arms, her eyes not focusing on anything in particular. Charlie sat at the table, scribbling out his schoolwork half-heartedly. I could hear Jim outside; he was practicing his aim again, trying to take his mind off everything.
The empty chair next to Momma's rocker was louder to me than the shots that rang through the night from the backyard.
Numbly, I walked to the chair and knelt before it, like I had done so many times as a child. Running my hand across the wooden seat, I noted how cold it was.
"Momma..." I choked out. "He's not... I mean, no... He can't be..."
Slowly, Momma turned her beautiful, but worn, face to look at me. "He is, dear. He's gone."
Moisture quickly bl :thumb161908454:
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:thumb65472928: Black and WhiteWhite skies melt
into the horizon, blurring
the line between heaven and the
shimmering sands of earth.
Shadows dance,
A mirage in the distance like
the glass on a broken television screen.
A long crack jets through the sand
like a dark slithering snake.
A car passes,
Its glint catches
the hiding eyes of a
cat in one quick flash.
Tires squeal on invisible ice.
All goes black.
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Mature Content

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Mature Content

11.11- The only time I feel alive is when I'm pouring out all that kills me inside; Irony in its purest form. Although I never aim to be dark and philosophical and meaningful in everything I say, I'd like to think that my words can strike some people. That somewhere, somehow, what I say will impact someone for the briefest moment of time, a glimpse into the sliver of vastness of life; Just, for the smallest, fragment of a second, I'd like to believe that they heard what I said and that they remember. I'd like that no one remembers my name, or where they heard it, or my face, but just... I want impact. I want to own a tiny piece of their memory, and I want to be there forever. In a hundred different minds. I don't crave for attention; I crave heartfelt humane emotions. I want to be immortal. Not in body; but in mind. I want my work to be noticed, but not by the masses. I want someday, somehow, for one person to see what I have created, and I want them to pause for an instant. I want it to :thumb162798258: Cherry covered Plastic Bag
open eyes narrowed from sleeping light,
waking with, this time gentle ticking that swings from side to side.
Just days after I pulled out waters breath
with cherry colored blood
they laid in a bag
After a boy holding the back end of a heavy hammer
crushed every skull for us to have
A Gift but Also a Burden.Death is an amazing thing. It makes people come together, be it old friends or enemies. It makes us truly see how precious life is, and how short it lasts; making us see that we have so little time to do everything. Over and over I've thought about death, to try it for myself, or to make someone else try it for me. I think about the afterlife, wondering what it would be like for eternity after you die. Do we actually go up to heaven? And if so, do we just sit in the clouds forever, watching the Earth slowly burn and die below? Or do we stay on Earth or 'Hell' as most people call it? Walking around pointlessly, trying to find a way out, or an answer, or some help; but never able to find it except winding darkness and loneliness. These thoughts scare me sometimes, wondering what we'd do for an eternity after we die. Do we come back in a new life, in a new form? Or is that just gifted people like me who get the chance to start anew? Sometimes I think of this gift as a burden, of course it :thumb162561921: :thumb162552854:

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