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Women ArtistsThe other day, I attempted to put together a huge list of some professional and semi-pro women artists over on my tumblr, because it seems like too often women get overlooked when it comes to being honored and recognized. This year, I was incredibly honored to be nominated for a Hugo award in the Best Professional Artist category, but I was a little shocked to find out there hadn’t been another woman nominated in that category since Rowena Morrill in 1986. That’s more than a little ridiculous, considering there are so many women artists out there who are all amazing, who offer unique points of view and design solutions, and who need more visibility and recognition. While putting this list together, I was really excited to find tons of new artists I'd never heard of before.
What is Hell?Hell is staring at a phone willing it to ring
just because you believe someone will keep
his forgotten promises.
Hell is calling someone
hoping they would be glad to hear from you
only to hear them say they will call you later.
Hell is understanding that you're temporary
even though you have already fallen in love
with the person who cannot love anymore.
Hell is being faithful to someone
without ever knowing if he ever will
be as faithful to you.
Hell is wandering on an empty road
After a truly awful fight which
didn't end in reconciliation
Hell is not realizing that the truck was heading
straight for you when your eyes were closed
the strains of music deafening you to a roar.
Hell is waiting for your daughter to breathe
without a thousand machines having to help her
take a deep clean breath.
Hell is waiting for your child to wake up
so she can tell you she loves you
and that she is just fine.
Hell is holding your best fri
IowaIf you visit Iowa,
you'll call her fields empty,
but she wasn't born that way.
A part of her was carved out
when she was ripped between Virginia
and the purple mountains of New Mexico.
Her gold hair, she tore it out when she realized
it didn't make her a princess.
She laid her locks strung along every road
leading somewhere else.
White hairs on her cheeks
are scars from winter.
Her hair darkens with the dampness
of summer rains.
The storms are never silent,
but neither is life when there's a tear
in your childhood where
a parent ought to be.
I've been flooded by Iowa's sorrow.
The only way I can distract her from her own voided landscape
is if I hate myself harder than she cries.
She just wants to fly
and I want to bus or train,
not because I fear death, but because
I want to take living slow.
It's the only way I ever feel.
From the air it's hard to watch Earth's hips move.
But Earth can't compare to the country.
That's my girl.
Full grown even when harvesting season's j
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More