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About Varied / Hobbyist Allegra Valentine LionheartFemale/United States Group :iconferal-heart-art: Feral-Heart-Art
Art group for players of FH!
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Three days turned out to be the break I never got.
Well, okay, let me back this up a bit.
There’s a Hindu goddess named Ahkilandeshvari. Her name
Roughly means something like “Never Not Broken.” Double negative turned deity. Go figure.
She rides a crocodile in a perpetual death-roll
(You know, that spinning thing they do to tear prey into little bite-sized chunks).
She never appears in one final or complete form, either. Instead, she’s
Always broken or still forming into something else.
That idea,
“Always broken, never complete,” and furthermore,
“Strongest in pieces.”
That idea wormed its way into my head about a year ago,
And it’s been tucked in there ever since. In fact, it made itself at home. I even made tea for it.

So, we’re done backing up. The past few months have been the normal chaotic;
Plan a conference trip here, five clinics there,
Ten classes at once, tangle with the throngs of one-dimensional thinkers who got stuck
Somewhere between “résumé builder” and “the only work study I could find at the time”
For something that we actually came here to find (a degree, that is).
One day across the state, one day the country, we’re gonna jump an entire ocean next week.
The next day under the knife, the next puking my guts up from some bad sushi.
I’m always back up on my feet, though,
Back up and working a twelve-hour double shift to make ends meet
(A moment to thank the father’s prayers and convenient lack of money
Whenever he stops talking about the Harley accessories he just purchased).
The typical answer I give to the “How are you?” is a softy smiling “Tired.”
Sometimes I wonder if I lost part of myself through the normal chaotic,
Or maybe it’s less of the chaotic, instead more normal.
Sometimes I cut out one obligation, say I’m starting to crack under the unrelenting flow.
Never not broken, I’d tell myself. It helped. Back on my feet.

Suddenly, the world halts, hushes, flutters its eyes closed under silver clouds
And blankets the world in white.
And, it keeps coming, keeps coming.
The emails stop, work closes its doors, the car’s buried.
Airplane bottles sparkling on the window sill, nutmeg honey chamomile tea in matte black cups,
Indie folk music and snow-flecked friends tromping in the door.
We discovered our inner roleplaying nerd, playing D&D for about eight hours a day
(My character died twice).
A household of four turned into about seven or eight for the past few days,
Talking, talking, playing, music, drinking, gaming.
Pull back the curtains to a sheet of perfect gray
Lined by a sliver of light against a blue sky above.
Three days turned out to be the break I never got. 

I paraded this little thing down the hallway all last week.

Bounce, bounce, bounce,

It’s got this imperfection in it that sometimes makes it

Bounce

Off in some wild direction

When you least expect it.

I found it in my purse,

Pesky thing,

Thumbless hitchhiker

Bummed a plane ride to Ireland with us.

Nestled away behind a zipper,

Wide-mouth faux beige hide,

Tucked in with the medicines my mother gave me

For a rainy day.

I forget where I picked it up, or

When I threw it into my safety-kit pocket.

To this day, it’s the only medicine I’ve pulled from it.

Near-perfect manufactured prescription sphere,

Dandelion yellow

Ground in white swirls,

Jupiter’s flower of a love-child

Placed in my pocket,

Thrown at a wall.

Twirl her around my fingertips,

Nervous wretch at the seminar.

Bounce, bounce,

Dribble, bounce.

Smooth, sunny sulfur surface

Of bumps and noisy treads,

Like fingerprints

In oceans of honey and milk.

It’s a wonder;

She gets hurled around,

Twirled around,

Careening off of walls,

And into walls, into walls,

Scrambles under a chair,

Flirts with the crawlspace behind the cabinets,

Bats her eyes at flights of stairs.

Snatched up in the claws of men,

Thrown again.

Medium-hard rubber keeps its shape, and then

Comes to rest,

Rocks to and fro,

Then roosts where she lands. 

What’s the point in sugar-coating it?

Let’s dance in purple prose, something-nothing

Self-indulgence.

Make it lovely, make it eloquent,

Poised and precious with blazing iron bones,

Crown jewel of the family crest,

Tuck your tail and doubt their adoration for you. (Lowly animal.)

You’re mangled and tangled in wires above,

Hanging by your scruff, dangling feet,

Peel back lips, bare your teeth,

Crocodile smile for the flashing pipes.

Prim and proper, poised to bite,

Hold your tongue;

Smolder Smolder
Aithne-smolder. Also a chest licky. (Doodle for the day, also playing around with a couple SAI textures for the background for funsies. c: )
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Sleeping Giant
Friendly local concept character. Linger started off in the same way and then developed a bunch, so we'll see if this guy's got the same destiny or no.
Either way, he's a new thing I like. c: <3
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Surprise poetry slam! Check my journals for an update on my latest poetry. ^^ It's a pretty diverse set of topics this time around. I hope you enjoy!

They’re all just big kids. I guess it comes with the locale.

I rolled into the parking lot, expecting the usual;

Sometimes-friendly quaint suburban families

Fussing at tipped-wage twenty-somethings

To alleviate their 30-minute wait,

Only to find those tipped-wage twenty-somethings

Throwing a ball around out back.

Managers were fretting on their phones

While I climbed out of the driver’s seat and

Thanked the scheduling deities that I was on hourlies that night.

The water heater busted at three, so,

Here we are,

Servers and kitchen workers alike

Hucking coasters at each other’s heads from across the bar,

One of the salad guys ducking behind the tap to sneak some Fosters

When nobody was looking (I was),

Until the damned heater gets fixed.

And oh, I can tell you,

Every one of us prayed that it wouldn’t be.

That office is a wreck most days, and not just because of the papers lying around.

Music folks hustle in and out all day,

Barging into the door, hair a mess, curses flecking their teeth,

Lift an imaginary drink to whatever he-said-she-said is floating around that day.

Today’s daily shenanigan was sharing poetry (it’s a step up in class from our usual gimmicks).

It got around to me, so

I twisted some words, painted a lovely picture

Then tore it apart. Connected it to some significant, sad something that happened once upon my time.

(Giggle).

“The hell is that giggle? That’s freakier than anything you could read.”

“Wait, what, why are you laughing about that? It’s so sad!”

I guessed for a while that I had a wry sense of humor;

Turn a significant, sad something of mine and color it into an art form,

Make it a story, and giggle after reading it. Maybe it was their reactions that were so funny, or…

I got to thinking about it later, and I realized it’s not so odd.

A significant, sad something I’d wring from my soul,

Pluck its fangs, file down its claws,

Fold it into some paper to be pulled out on a whim.

A story.

A significant, sad story, drawn gently from its clutch in my bag,

Painted alive in its own shadow,

Now borne along in part by each person to hear it.

The significant, sad burden.

Shared, a burden no more. That giggle is a giggle of relief.

She’s the white daffodil

The submissive gene

Rare, easily spoken over

Touches everything with grace

Resilient

Delicate roots stretch

Clutch the vein of water

In the shadow of a mountain brook

White doe

A broken family watches

Speaks of her like a friendly apparition

Shot dead last fall

She’s the white daffodil

Clipped at her feet

Dipped into a fawn cup

An old man drives her to the hospital

Where she lays now

A tube in her throat.

Blue lights breathe to life,

Shining at our feet, cobalt ghosts wielding brass pipes.

I’m a cog, all of us pieces of a mechanical spectacle made human.

Pearls glittering behind golden doors,

Years of growing, jammed in the oyster’s maw,

Lopsided forms refined.

Glowing pearls,

Silver beauties admired in quantity,

Valued in masses,

Bought, sold, drilled,

A necklace of pearls to be worn,

Make someone else beautiful.

All our work for this.

 

With this, we are happy. 

Three days turned out to be the break I never got.
Well, okay, let me back this up a bit.
There’s a Hindu goddess named Ahkilandeshvari. Her name
Roughly means something like “Never Not Broken.” Double negative turned deity. Go figure.
She rides a crocodile in a perpetual death-roll
(You know, that spinning thing they do to tear prey into little bite-sized chunks).
She never appears in one final or complete form, either. Instead, she’s
Always broken or still forming into something else.
That idea,
“Always broken, never complete,” and furthermore,
“Strongest in pieces.”
That idea wormed its way into my head about a year ago,
And it’s been tucked in there ever since. In fact, it made itself at home. I even made tea for it.

So, we’re done backing up. The past few months have been the normal chaotic;
Plan a conference trip here, five clinics there,
Ten classes at once, tangle with the throngs of one-dimensional thinkers who got stuck
Somewhere between “résumé builder” and “the only work study I could find at the time”
For something that we actually came here to find (a degree, that is).
One day across the state, one day the country, we’re gonna jump an entire ocean next week.
The next day under the knife, the next puking my guts up from some bad sushi.
I’m always back up on my feet, though,
Back up and working a twelve-hour double shift to make ends meet
(A moment to thank the father’s prayers and convenient lack of money
Whenever he stops talking about the Harley accessories he just purchased).
The typical answer I give to the “How are you?” is a softy smiling “Tired.”
Sometimes I wonder if I lost part of myself through the normal chaotic,
Or maybe it’s less of the chaotic, instead more normal.
Sometimes I cut out one obligation, say I’m starting to crack under the unrelenting flow.
Never not broken, I’d tell myself. It helped. Back on my feet.

Suddenly, the world halts, hushes, flutters its eyes closed under silver clouds
And blankets the world in white.
And, it keeps coming, keeps coming.
The emails stop, work closes its doors, the car’s buried.
Airplane bottles sparkling on the window sill, nutmeg honey chamomile tea in matte black cups,
Indie folk music and snow-flecked friends tromping in the door.
We discovered our inner roleplaying nerd, playing D&D for about eight hours a day
(My character died twice).
A household of four turned into about seven or eight for the past few days,
Talking, talking, playing, music, drinking, gaming.
Pull back the curtains to a sheet of perfect gray
Lined by a sliver of light against a blue sky above.
Three days turned out to be the break I never got. 

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WhiteLightHeart
Allegra Valentine Lionheart
Artist | Hobbyist | Varied
United States
Icon by :iconbawfle:
Profile ID by Ailuranthropy on FA

I draw, I trumpet, I play FeralHeart, I occasionally dabble in some fursuit/cosplay making, and maybe I'll stumble into some other things as time goes on.

But hey! Thanks for visiting my page, dear. <3

Online, you can call me Allegra, per my avatar/persona/fursona's name, though in real life I'm a 19-year-old trumpeter studying music education. My hope is to become a music educator and performer, potentially going on to get a master's degree in trumpet performance, so I can later teach in my own trumpet studio at the collegiate level.
We'll see where things go, though. c:

Back in the interwebs, though, I'm an administrator for FeralHeart (a lovely animal MMO), and frankly I've just been checking out a lot of things that catch my eye. Art, fursuit-making (pieces for the time being), a bit of crafting on the side, and burying myself in music are among my hobbies.

If you do need to contact me about FH matters, I'd recommend contacting me on FH's website/forum, since my replies will be fastest there.

I like to think I'm pretty down to earth and friendly, so do feel free to shoot me a message sometime if you'd like to chat. c:

~Contact~
Feral-Heart: www.feral-heart.com
Tumblr: allegralionheart.tumblr.com
DeviantART: I think you've got this one.
Email: I'd prefer something else!
Skype: Ask me!
FA: AllegraWLH

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:iconsnapplezeapple:
SnappleZeApple Featured By Owner Sep 17, 2016
jerry mouse scream intensifies icon 
Reply
:iconimryll:
Imryll Featured By Owner Sep 10, 2016  Student Writer
Happy Birthday! :D
Reply
:iconkikiorylandia:
Kikiorylandia Featured By Owner Sep 10, 2016  Hobbyist Digital Artist
HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY =DDD <33
Reply
:iconswallowz:
Swallowz Featured By Owner Sep 10, 2016
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SISTER!! :smooch: :cake: :iconbuttsparkleplz: :hug:
Reply
:iconarcticgalaxy:
ArcticGalaxy Featured By Owner Sep 10, 2016  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Happy b-day Alle!
*runs all over your page* Marlon Webb #JoggingManChallenge Chat/Comment Icon 
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:iconanimallover662:
Animallover662 Featured By Owner Sep 10, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Happy Birthday! :D
Reply
:iconlordsuragaha:
LordSuragaha Featured By Owner Aug 16, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
You need to draw more stuff... Especially butts
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:iconmysticdivinity:
MysticDivinity Featured By Owner Jul 12, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
*Jumps onto your page, and rolls about*
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:iconbuioumbra:
BuioUmbra Featured By Owner Jun 18, 2016  Hobbyist General Artist
Does thou do commissionssss for pointy points? ;o;
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:iconpreachsnow:
PreachSnow Featured By Owner Jun 14, 2016
-waves-
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