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About Deviant nezroyMale/Canada Recent Activity
Deviant for 10 Years
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Statistics 25 Deviations 8 Comments 2,607 Pageviews

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Behemoth :iconnezroy:nezroy 0 1 CPLT-C1 Catapault :iconnezroy:nezroy 0 1 Mad Cat :iconnezroy:nezroy 0 1 Moo Group 2 :iconnezroy:nezroy 0 0 Moo Group 1 :iconnezroy:nezroy 1 0 Chess :iconnezroy:nezroy 1 0 12. P'i :iconnezroy:nezroy 0 0 10. Lu :iconnezroy:nezroy 0 1 Lucky Honu :iconnezroy:nezroy 5 0 4. Meng :iconnezroy:nezroy 1 0 2. Kun :iconnezroy:nezroy 0 0 Time Warp :iconnezroy:nezroy 0 0
Face of God
It was Tuesday, nearly a month ago, now, that I arrived at Paul's house,
without the slightest notion that the world had changed. I went there often; it was
not unusual for me to arrive nigh into supper, that annoying shepard leaping to
my face, his paws on my shoulders as he forced from me an unceremonious
dance to the hall closet, whereupon without fail little Anna would come running
to my rescue, calling off the timid giant and announcing to her parents, hoping
they didn't yet know and that she could be the bearer of exciting events, "Ruth is
here! Dad! Mom!... DAAAAD!! Ruth is here!!" I suspect that the shepard was
forever driven to hiding by the sheer weight of Anna's voice, and would have
gladly continued his waltz with me if she had not always made such a vociferous
Invariably it was Mom, Grace, and not Paul who would come down that
middle-aged hall first; sometimes wiping her hands of the remnants of the meal I
had interrupted, sometimes of the remnants of the me
:iconnezroy:nezroy 2 2
The Stars are Lonely Now
It was in the field.
The knee-high grass was golden, sweet, smelling of wild grains and
seed; smelling of the morning dew seeping deep into fertile, sometimes rancid
earth, drying under the straight-down glare of a glaring, August noon. Smelling
of fresh sweat as I became nature's fertile transport, pods and little tufts of some
unknown species clinging to my heat damped clothes. Smelling of green and
yellow crickets buzzing lazily in the swimming heat, rising and falling in some
mysterious non-pattern of crescendos and ceaseless buzzing rhythms. Smelling
of grasshoppers chirping in some foreign code, untold secrets passing in the
intervals of their silence.
The first time, it was that human compulsion when two strangers meet
in an unknown place that compelled me to say anything at all. That instinctual
subhuman urge to communicate with something even remotely familiar in the
face of all those bizarre species and testaments to diversity. A driving need to
maintain our spot in the great
:iconnezroy:nezroy 0 1
Still Life :iconnezroy:nezroy 0 0 Four Way Chess :iconnezroy:nezroy 0 0

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nezroy's Profile Picture
Hmm... just found an old stack of sketches from my university days and prior. Guess I'll have to scan these in...


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westernphilosopher Featured By Owner Jan 2, 2007  Professional Filmographer
Well hi! Welcome to DA. :) I quite like your writing, and your art looks like it's coming along... I think i'll keep an eye on you to see what you'll do. :)
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