You Bring Me True Meaning

I feel like I could dance anywhere when I see you 

You bring me true joy, hope and peace

When all seems gone and lost

You are right there, and remind me all I have and all I am

I am a lonely artist, and you are my ink and paper

You bring me my true meaning

Forever and Always

'Solitude' continued...

http://serenitystyles.blogspot.com/2013/12/solitude.html - Solitude Part 1
I thought they were lying when they said light always finds a way to appear in darkness... I was mistaken, it really does.

 "There, in an empty room, my chair sits alone next to a desk with a piece of paper and pencil laying solitude on a wooden surface, a lamp shines down on them, and darkness leaves the room..."

'Solitude' continued...
...the light flickered, as the window flew open and the curtains flew back, the sun shining into the room. The wood floors were warm and the desk sit there in the glory of the sun. Pictures lay scatted on the floor and a breeze through the window picks them up and sends them flying though the room. Pictures and drawings and letters whirl around... Serenity sits up and looks around herself to see just darkness, she rubbed her eyes and stood up and she thought silently to herself. The darkness started to flee, leaving her alone in a white land. She took a step forward, hearing her footsteps echo. Ahead of her she saw a door, wide open, warm yellow light pouring out of it. She walked closer to it until she put her hand on the door frame and peaked her head in to see her desk and pages flying around her, she walked closer, shielding her eyes with her forearm from the bright sun, rubbing her eyes she lowered her arm and reached down and picked up a drawing that flew onto her desk...

Santa and the Eyeball

My Workspace

TIME

 

"Time is not the clock on your wall... Time is a sequence of moments waiting to be lived and better yet, shared."

Masks

Have you ever been so good at pretending you were afraid you might forget how to be real?
A good friend once told me a story he imagined in his mind, a story depicting himself, nothing more than a man wearing a mask, hoping to hide what was inside… I would like to dedicate the following to him:
A girl stood there, surrounded by faces; emotionless faces…
She looked down, closed her eyes and took a deep breath then reached back and tied the small strings holding the mask on her face. She opened her eyes and looked around waiting for someone to notice her. She hid, shadowed and disguised, but still wished to be noticed… by anyone, by everyone, but nobody looked. She looked at people walking by her, waiting for a glance or smile, but no one looked. She smiled and twirled around and landed gracefully and looked around to see if someone saw. The faces just continued to walk past her. Walking over to a bench she sat down and buried her face in her hands, tearing off her mask. Asking herself why no one would look at her, she made the mask perfectly, it was exactly what people should want to see. She rubbed her eyes and looked up, throwing her mask to the ground. There she saw a young man staring at her, a mask covering his face. She stared back and smiled as she stood up and walked up to him and reached up and untied his mask and grabbed it in her hands and slowly pulled it off of his face. “Don’t hide… If you need to be fake for the whole world see you, then take off your mask, and I will notice you.”

Scratches, Bruises, Bumps, and Aches

Scratches, bruises, bumps, and aches
Tears, denial, stains, and pains
Death, sorrow, pleads, and cries
I never expected those torn up lies
Playing playing during the day
Ignoring the frustrations I know won’t stay
So I pretend they are lost or ran away
I fall asleep at night and I think about you
I remember all the things you told me to do
Never forget, and always smile
Because this hurt only lasts for awhile
I look up at the ceiling and think about you
I remember the things you told me not to do
Never forget, and always remember
That no matter what, I will always care
I close my eyes as I start to dose off
I remember the things I told myself
Never forget, and remember to pray
Because this is the way life was made
I close my eyes as I start to sleep
And feel your hands as you whisper to me
This, our love, is something to keep…

Solitude

Happiness Flows Through my Veins with a Sharp Needle Injecting Loneliness into my Blood Stream…

“Happiness is hard to come by, and given out with moderation. It is easy to find for some and easy to lose for others. Easy to mistake and hard to understand. But as hard as it was, I found it and I kept it… I kept it close to me at all times, guarding it with my life and cherishing it with my heart. But, sometimes, there is a piercing pain, something trying to pull my happiness away, and sometimes I fear it may be stronger than me.”

I smile and look at my pictures, my dearest memories, I feel happiness flow through my veins like a rush of warmth filling my body. A sweet but comforting sensation pass over my skin, making me calm. Ecstasy is what I feel when I think about you. But all is lost, my joy has been lassoed and pulled away, it falls away in a cloud of black. I want to reach out and grab it but I feel cold; the darkness stole it from me and left me helpless. I sit there trying to gain strength but I cant even sit up straight, my head is angled down and my eyes are tired, my fingers feel weak. I see the darkness swoop around me, and surround me. Then like a cold sharp needle I feel it pierce my skin and inject the reality of loneliness into my blood stream. Even colder and sharper than before, a tear escapes my eye and drips down my cheek and freezes to my skin, as I feel my body get completely swallowed up by the darkness. There, in an empty room, my chair sits alone next to a desk with a piece of paper and pencil laying solitude on a wooden surface, a lamp shines down on them, and darkness leaves the room.

A Myriad of Thoughts

Pocketful of Poetry by Mindy Gledhill
Ever had too many ideas to even sort through them all? There, deep in my mind, ideas lay, unsorted in a messy pile. Like scribbled notes that were left alone for years, written in all colors of inks. Torn papers, sticky notes and notebook paper; fill up a mind of ideas. As I try and sort through them I see a piece of torn old notepaper, ink covering every inch of the paper. Purple letters canvas what looks like scribbled garbage. Putting the paper down, I stare down at a myriad of thoughts.

Where is the Artist?

As Serenity sat on her bed, she looked down at her L.E.D. screen to see the time, “3:30AM…” she thought to herself, as she took a deep breath she closed her eyes and listened to soft music.

She imagined colors and serene scenery. She saw herself walk to her desk, pick up a simple number 2 pencil, and watched as her fingers guided the pencil slowly across the page, creating gentle lines and shadows with nothing more than a piece of graphite. She watched as the lines made circles and curls, she watched her own hand create something beautiful. Gray lines cover more and more of what was her art canvas. She made soft long lines and hard short lines, she created shapes and patterns. The tip of her pencil became smaller and smaller… Until finally, she was done. Serenity watched her own imagination hold up the piece of paper, ready to gaze a her art, the final project. She blinked once and smiled as she beheld the page. There, she gazed upon a white sheet, not a mark in sight.

Serenity opened her eyes and held her breath, staring back at her computer’s screen.

SerenityStyles: the intro

My name is SerenityStyles, I am an unpaid self-taught model, I model for my own photography, and am completely independent. Set up, make up, photography, and anything else that may be required for a photo set is done be myself (my sisters, sometimes help and are rarely the models of my photography.)I use a sheet as a back drop and the self timer / my arm stretched out holding the camera as my photographer. Speaking of which, I photograph just about anything; macro (human, nature and objects), still life, animals, fashion, scenery, etc. I am armed with nothing more than a digital camera, Canon PowerShot A4000 IS (8x optical zoom) my only editing tool is Window’s Live Photo Gallery. To view and edit my pictures I use my PC, a Toshiba, with 4 GB of RAM, and a hard drive with 282 GB of memory. To take my pictures I travel to…. basically, my room, and back yard. And there I search for creative outlet. Anything I see that strikes my eye is now the victim of 20 new photos. I am also a traditional artist, I do pencil drawings and color drawings. I draw some forms of abstract, but very little. My preferred style is realistic-detailed pencil drawing. I draw real life and fiction. I draw at my desk, with a pile of Doritos or popcorn as my sustenance. With a cold glass of milk or Mtn. Dew. I have a tiny lamp hooked to my desk shining down on what is my studio. I put my headphones on blasting LoL parodies, and I take flight and let my imagination go. I look up at my laptop to see Morgana or Jinx, and draw what I see. Or maybe I close my eyes for a moment and picture a woman posing in front of a camera, or Teemo and Tristana hiding in a bush. And I just draw, and draw… and draw. And last but not least I am a creative story teller/youtuber! I have a youtube mostly for my photography, to announce new projects or to show the world what I do, maybe make a funny video, sing a rap (which I really am horrible at, by the way). And I am also working on a new channel with my friend, Tellab (a brony artist). It is a youtube dedicated to story telling with adorable voices.

 

And that. Right there. Is me. SerenityStyles

http://serenitystyles.deviantart.com/