EXPOSE YOURSELF - Feature!

Two months late? Whoops! I'm quite sorry! Have an awesome collection of images from our lovely gallery, remember to check out the submitter's gallery too as they have some amazing work that needs exposure too.

Featured!
:thumb334956741: Passion cannot be explained.Only experienced.

Digital!
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Traditional!

TIFF

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Literature!
:thumb289253161: Home AloneHome Alone.
Everything becomes so much more dark and sinister whenever you are alone.
You're constantly on guard and overcautious just to answer your mobile phone.
Any slight disturbance or eerie creak and you begin to panic.
Retreating back into your secure settee conjuring up the most dramatic
Scenarios that have virtually no possibility of ever occurring.
But that never seems to stop the cogs from continuously turning.
You fasten all the windows and arm yourself with kitchen based artillery.
And man your position surveying the living room as if you were a member of the military.
Increasing the volume on your television set to distract and block out the noises.
The local neighbors walk past your window but you class them as unfamiliar voices.
You can't help but be on edge until you have some sort of company.
But these common trains of thoughts are expected and customary.
I thought the same until I heard this one story about a girl called Anne.
She was in a similar situation; she was Watcher of the NightHe waits in the shadows
Watching and learning
Trying to resist
His unconquerable yearning
An actor of rare disguise
Covering half-truths with unfinished lies
His plans twist and turn
Taking years for fruition
After which he disappears
A forgotten apparition
While lesser men succumb
To the beckoning temptation
He stands regardless
Steadfast by his station
Vigil of the darkness
Watcher of the night
Countless men have tried
To evade his inhuman sight
He is the sum of his fears
For he chooses what he wants to be
He has uncertainties, he has doubts
But is afraid intentionally
He tends the shades of the mighty
And the shadows of the weak
Stifling their deceit
And plugging up the leaks
He watches and learns
Trying to fit in
But he'll soon realize
It's a battle he can't win
The cycle repeats
However hard he fights
But his fate is sealed
As Watcher of the Night
ChrysalisThese stammering heartbeats
felt in stuttering airways,
where butterflies came out as words of love;
caught harshly within your net,
subduing and possessing.
My innocence was shucked,
my freedom spread and pinned to paper…
before lips devoured me
with passions normally concealed—
with words left, and felt,
within each humid stretch of silence.
With each cocooned metamorphosis,
you kept me confined warmly…
stationary wings loved, still;
It is as my heart,
which loves until beat silent…
and silent I wish I was,
instead of loving and living
within seeds of carefully tended
naivety.
because words unspoken die
just as softly. MusicFeel the beat.
hear it echoing
in your head.
See the emotions,
The colours they paint:
Blue yellow and red.
Taste the rhythm,
Feel it flowing
off your tongue.
Hear the melody
and matching words
giving you an escape.
Smell the sweetness
of happines that
only music could bring.
©lonewolfpuppy

Photography!


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Stamps!


Photo manipulations!
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Aaand lastly, some crafty crafts ~
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