jonathoncomfortreed

[endless with possibilities]

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summertime. by jonathoncomfortreed, literature

Literature

summertime.

i've realized i miss you most in the summer. when we were together, we belonged to the cold; trees would lose their leaves, winter winds would blow, but the summer was ours. it was a time when we could leave essays and exams behind and start dreaming. a time for stargazing and raindancing and treeclimbing. for the wild. for us. i feel so out of place. in the light of a bonfire or the wind of a highway, i find myself thinking: you would have loved this. and i get lost in memories of running through a subway station, reaching for lights across the dark ocean or swinging by a lake and dangling our feet in the stars. this has always been a seas

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summertime. by jonathoncomfortreed, literature

Literature

summertime.

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Sepsis by Mercy-Waters, literature

Literature

Sepsis

my love for you has escaped my heart; it has spread through the maze of capillaries and veins, into the arteries. my adoration has flooded my brain; it has inhibited all rationality, and fogged all memories. it has taken unwelcome refuge in my lungs; burning in my breath, devouring the oxygen sucked past dry lips. my love for you has gone septic. (the doctors say they cannot clean my polluted blood, because the infection festers in my heart.)

Fiat lux by ProvenParadox, literature

Literature

Fiat lux

All the rivers run into the Sea; Our cast reconvenes 'neath the ol' Bodhi tree: Fisher King from the Sea-Otter's demesne; The forgotten soldier who lives to have seen Faust's night on the ridge and Walpurgis night's dream; And fore-thinking bones from the dead fire-bringer. Three dreamers watching, with the lighting's singer. Yet, the Sea is not full;

angel by hostofthemaze, literature

Literature

angel

She is a musician. Pale grey eyes that are half closed and blood shot most of the time. Crimson colored hair, the kind you can only get out of a box, sways down to her frail hips, But the incognito blonde peeks out at the roots. She leans her skinny body against the cold brick wall like it's Home Base in a game of tag. A cigarette hangs from her lips, a violin from her fingers. They're melancholy tunes that she pulls from those strings, But they harmonize with the clatter of coins being tossed in a jar. They watch her like she's an angel. They hear her like she's a prayer. She sings about money, and love, and other seemingly empty t

Shadow and Radiance by ProvenParadox, literature

Literature

Shadow and Radiance

On the west side of Eden There is nothing but seven graves; And in the dust, I hear voices chanting But no bells ring. Say it: O for the radiance of a thousand suns O I am become death, destroyer of worlds O O O O Until the rotting teeth Fall from Golgotha's empty mouth And tree's grow in the sockets, Where pleading eyes Used to be; No one will know peace. I used to bask in The misty sunset's glow. But now, even Valhalla's feasts Seem quiet and empty. I wonder if I'll ever Get them right. No wonder. No wonder. No wonder. Those are pearls that were his eyes.

2669-B by Dibujando, literature

Literature

2669-B

In the early hours, when he is still asleep, she begins counting the tiny black and white tiles plastered to the ceiling of their flat. Some are chipped, some are covered by a layer of dust, and some are not tiles at all, but cockroaches in disguise. By 143 he has stretched his arms and kissed her neck, by 206 he has tied his shoes and lit a cigarette, and by 262 he's always gone. She knows that the smell of coffee will dissipate by 329 and that if she can bother getting out of bed to call her worried mom for once, or even just go to the damn bathroom, he will be back by 2338. If she counts slowly. -- Sometimes, late at night, when she has

clap if you believe by imperfectionistics, literature

Literature

clap if you believe

Even as a little girl, I was a budding pessimist. Everything was half empty - not just glasses, but people, too. I remember loving Peter Pan as a little girl. Not the Disney version, but the play with Mary Martin as Pan. Every time Tink drank the poison, I felt my heart clench, first because I wanted to find someone who'd die to save me, and second because I knew she'd die. I never clapped for Tink because I didn't believe that the little flashing light from the audience had a soul, that the little bells had a heart. Whoever I watched the movie with clapped though, and I'd pret

Light's Out by Midknyghtchild, literature

Literature

Light's Out

Sometimes I wish for power to go out. Be it a down power line, a blackout, or simply a bill that wasn't paid on time. That way we would have an excuse to break out those scented candles I got you for Christmas last year. The apartment will fill with its fruity aroma and I'd know why you never lit them. We'd laugh, as we re-learn to navigate our living room, half-arguing over whose idea it was to put that table there. I'd knock over that hideous lamp your mother gave you, insisting that it was an accident, and that you didn't really like it either, So now, at least we have an excuse to trash it, 'Cause I know how much you hate t

how to save a life. by t-writes-poems, literature

Literature

how to save a life.

what do you say when an angel tells you she doesn't believe in God? she says when she thinks of Jesus, it reminds her of me when I'm twice the sinner she'll ever be and she doesn't even believe. and she comes to me in tears and broken words: "if He's there, you're all I've got; you're my closest line to God. so send a prayer postmarked from me, and maybe someday I'll believe." so help me, God to let this go, to get my head right, to get my heart right, and to let her know that being alive means more than just living a life.

And Going Up by cherrichan13, literature

Literature

And Going Up

I love Saturdays. The summer breeze. Sleeping in. The first snowflake. The satisfying crunch of icy snow underfoot. Shooting stars, 11:11, eyelashes. One last chance. Polka dots. The last piece of cake. The night life, too-loud music, too much oxygen. Lunch dates. A brand new book, never opened. Christmas lights. You. I need Three square meals a day. Sixty minutes of exercise. Relaxation. Sneakers without holes in them. Time. That first cup of coffee in the morning. Conversation, determination, innovation. Heartfelt repercussions. Something different than you. I want A bigger apartment. A dog. Eyeliner. Long car rides, starr

Still Freshmen After All by cherrichan13, literature

Literature

Still Freshmen After All

I hope you read this someday. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not even this year. I want you to read this 30 years from now, when you're broken and sobbing and kicking yourself for making such a stupid decision. I want you to go up to your attic, dust this off, and remember. I want you to remember me for who I really was. Not the fun, crazy girl who spent her time trying to convince others that she was okay, that she didn't care what everyone else thought. I want you to remember how she was always looking down when she walked, how she was always so guarded with her words and, for such a long time, only wanted to share them with you. You, who could

Deviation Spotlight

Make a wish by jonathoncomfortreed, visual art

Make a wish

jonathoncomfortreed

About jonathoncomfortreed

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Artist // Student // Photography

Oct 24, 1994
Canada
Deviant for 15 years
portfolio.jonathonreed.com
He / Him

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My Bio

If you ask me, art is about a whole lot more than dropping into a gallery every now and then or downloading retro desktop wallpapers for your laptop. It’s about falling in love and falling apart. Creating and believing. It’s about your heart beating in your chest and maybe your eyes getting a little wet.

I love it all. Vintage photography and lomo editing. Typography. Classic literature. Philharmonic orchestra. Ballet and breakdancing. Graffiti. Watercolour and oil painting.

I don’t really think of myself as an artist. Just another human being a little lost in the world.

My family:

WanderingHere and ProvenParadox

Artistic things:

Favourite Visual Artist

Martin Stranka

Favourite Movies

August Rush, Pursuit of Happyness, Australia, The Art of Getting By, Moonrise Kingdom, Mondo

Favourite TV Shows

Doctor Who

Favourite Bands / Musical Artists

Manchester Orchestra, Angels & Airwaves, The Paper Kites

Favourite Books

Perks of Being a Wallflower, Everything is Illuminated, Stargirl

Favourite Writers

Salman Rushdie, A.A. Milne

Tools of the Trade

Canon EOS Rebel XS, 18-55mm, 50mm and 75-300mm lenses, tripod, flash diffuser; Photoshop CS5 for editing

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jonathoncomfortreed

Jan 23, 2012

One week left to critique 'You be the Judge'!

0 min read

You might not remember, but a couple of months ago we told you about inknalcohol (https://www.deviantart.com/inknalcohol)'s 'You be the Judge' literature contest. The idea of his contest is that the writers judge who wrote the best critique for their submission. Yeah that's right, the writers are the judges, and the critiques are the entries. It's a really cool idea, and you still have a week left to enter! Go take a look at the pieces of writing (some of them written by theWrittenRevolution (https://www.deviantart.com/thewrittenrevolution) members!) and spend a little time critiquing. We know how good you are at writing critiques! :highfive: More information here

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jonathoncomfortreed

Nov 22, 2011

What's your favourite part of making art?

163 votes

The feel of creative potential when you start imagining an idea.

The energy in the process. Like adrenaline.

The finished product.

Something else (leave a comment).

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jonathoncomfortreed

Nov 22, 2011

And the frost is here.

0 min read

The rising moon looked like an orange slice on Thursday night. Yeah, that's right. I'm updating my journal. :bow: Hello, citizens. Here's what's what: I can't wait for it to snow. It seems like every year that goes by, I love snowboarding a little bit more. Right now I can't wait to hit the slopes. I just made a banana-kiwi-banana slice sandwich. It was amazing. (Oh, that reminds me of a story. I'll add it at the end.) I was at a youth retreat all weekend. Had a superb time. I'm quitting Project 52. I know, surprising right. I got pretty far and I was pretty determined to go through with it. But the overarching purpose of my participat

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Profile Comments 3.7K

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Happiest birthday

_{Happy Birthday, I wish you the best, wherever you are!}

BrockObama007

Jun 19, 2015

Since your in Canada do you watch LinusTechTips?

BengalFanatic

Oct 31, 2014

Your whole gallery is lovely, the pictures, the literature, it's all stunning. I've been a quiet follower of your stuff for a while and suppose that I can't be quiet nay longer. Your work needs to be talked about, because it's lucid, classic, and wonderful all at the same time.

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday!

I like your profile description :]