Featured: Black Angel
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Welcome to MysticLightART, a Art Group here on deviantART for ALL Artists.
So whether you are an artist or enthusiast, if you enjoy Digital Art this is the place to be.
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Rules in Photography:
Please submit your works to correct folder.
We vote by the following criteria:
The photography must be sharp and clear, this means also in full view.
It must be an original concept
Your photography needs to have Roses.
Reasons why your deviation can be declined:
The photo isn't made by yourself
It was to heavy edited
To over or underexposed
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Google images are not stock.
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|More Journal Entries|
My friend the bearMy friend the bear by TheDewdropFairy
Polar Sepia by infinitecanvas
East of the Sun by Heylenne
the girl and the bear by ArteSerberal
thinking by perodog
Jelly Bear by Amie-geaidesbois
Anastasia and polar bear by LirikaTuan
The Journey by AliasCurse
Battle ( The Golden Compass) by ALEXAst
Dreaming of bears by Ruu-the-Dasher In her quiet favourite place by Loputyn
Crescent Moon Bear. Maybe. by Kaebobee East of the Sun, West of the Moon by tiffanyturrill
Polar Bear by socktail
David Bowie(RIP) :iconheartcandleplz: January 10 2016 - David Bowie died peacefully today surrounded by his family after a courageous 18 month battle with cancer. While many of you will share in this loss, we ask that you respect the family’s privacy during their time of grief. :iconheartcandleplz:David Bowie(RIP) by Lior-Art
Creepypasta: Shadow of Unit 731Creepypasta: Shadow of Unit 731Creepypasta: Shadow of Unit 731 by ShackleSoul
“Have you ever thought of how lucky, no…no, not lucky. Rather, how blessed and messianic you really are?”
The voice was flat. Dull, even. Emotionally it showed zero signature of how to even understand human vocal inflection. None of this would be scary were it not for the fact that the voice was so plainly coming from a human. A human cowardly observing the sick man through a bulletproof one-way mirror and addressing him via a PA system, but a human regardless. He had said he didn’t want to talk to his patient, saying it might affect the experiment. But he’d claimed his hand had been forced by such uncooperative behavior.
“I came here to be cured!” Timothy bawled as he slammed his forehead against the graying-white room’s sole article of furniture, a simple battered cot. Just like all the furniture, it had ISCD stamped on the frame. Institution of Study and Care for the Diseased. At this point, though, Timo
Creepypasta: It's All RelativeCreepypasta: It’s All RelativeCreepypasta: It's All Relative by ShackleSoul
I don’t know what day it is… or what year. What, why wouldn’t I know the year? It’s been two weeks since I moved in, so it’s probably still the same year. I think. I don’t know I am at all, really. I’ve been stuck in one place for quite a while and that tends to alter one’s perception of time.
Wait, no, that’s right, it’s only been two weeks. What I am saying.
Ahem. But there is one thing I do know. I’m not alone in here.
It’s always been me in the house. Me and me alone. Why shouldn’t that be the case? After all, it’s my home, my home, I was one of the original occupants of this place as early as when it was still being furnished, and it has been ever since construction finished and the work crews left. But I can hear them, stalking about the place, and it’s all I can do to hide in the day and come out only at night.
Two of them are the primogeni
The Secret of Clovernook [story] Ever since I was a little girl I’ve loved nature. There is nothing a little stroll through the woods won’t fix. Well, maybe a broken leg, but hey. As many times as I used to traverse the nature trails, collect pinecones, pick flowers, and catch salamanders by the pond my fondest memory of these woods in fact had nothing to do with the common sights of the forest. Quite the contrary.The Secret of Clovernook [story] by SpicePrincess
Living in the heavily wooded area known as Clovernook, I was always able to walk around any time I saw fit and I made sure to exercise that right. My mother wasn’t a big fan of the idea, but she would still let me go as long as it weren’t too dark and I did not go too far. Often she urged me to go out to the town, make friends, and be more social, but I never felt that was for me. As much as I wanted to make my mother happy, I was fine on my own.
The neighborhood was quaint and quiet with birdsong and crickets as my soundtrack. Th