| My writing from my other account, ~PublicAffairs |
=BlackPeregrin
That cool guy with a typewriterAir.
melt
Monarchs
Upandaway
Public Affairs
An afternoon on the swings“Now, aren’t you an odd sight?” She placed her hands on her hips and gave me an odd look. “What are you, my age?” “I couldn’t say. You didn’t tell me your age, but I won’t be rude as to ask.” “Fair enough,” she replied, turning around to address a small girl. “Stop playing in the dirt. You know that Mom and Dad won’t let you dirty up the house. Why don’t you go play on the jungle gym?”An afternoon on the swings
She turned back to me. Her little sister, she explained. “So, w
by ~PublicAffairs
Finally ListeningI think I’m hearing voices. But not all the time. Just occasionally. They always start talking when I least expect them, at times that you wouldn’t think talking isn’t necessary. And I’ve never figured out how to predict when they’ll come. It’s always random- a guessing game, and I bet they like it. The voices, that is. They like to see me worrying about the next time I begin hearing things.Finally Listening
by ~PublicAffairs
Blackened Ash on Wooden FloorsBlackened ash on wooden floors, The darkness reaches through the door. Opens wide the soul and peers Into all your petty fears.Blackened Ash on Wooden Floors
Nothing better seems to come in death, Your dying shame veils your final breath. These shaking hands, they guide your pen to heart, Writing notes to those from whom you depart
And when the time comes, it matters not The goals in life that you have sought. You seem afraid that there are none, But no-one cares what you have done.
Nothing better seems to come in death, Your dying shame veils your final breath. And wi
by ~PublicAffairs
All that Once was MineI once thought that A brain And a heart Was enough to get by in this world Where I’d know everything there was to know About everything, and everyone, But I could put it into context Whereas those without soul have no context In their lives And they go around With empty knowledge And loaded brains With the one thing they don’t know Being where to unload It all.All that Once was Mine
And then as soon As I stepped into school My brain became the center Of ridicule Turns out smart isn’t all It’s made up to be, You
by ~PublicAffairs
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| My photography, including Photojournalism, Animals, Plants and Nature, People and Kids, and Misc. Objects. (c) Gabriel Rosenberg 2008-09 |
Public Affairs
An afternoon on the swings“Now, aren’t you an odd sight?” She placed her hands on her hips and gave me an odd look. “What are you, my age?” “I couldn’t say. You didn’t tell me your age, but I won’t be rude as to ask.” “Fair enough,” she replied, turning around to address a small girl. “Stop playing in the dirt. You know that Mom and Dad won’t let you dirty up the house. Why don’t you go play on the jungle gym?”An afternoon on the swings
She turned back to me. Her little sister, she explained. “So, w
by ~PublicAffairs
Finally ListeningI think I’m hearing voices. But not all the time. Just occasionally. They always start talking when I least expect them, at times that you wouldn’t think talking isn’t necessary. And I’ve never figured out how to predict when they’ll come. It’s always random- a guessing game, and I bet they like it. The voices, that is. They like to see me worrying about the next time I begin hearing things.Finally Listening
by ~PublicAffairs
Blackened Ash on Wooden FloorsBlackened ash on wooden floors, The darkness reaches through the door. Opens wide the soul and peers Into all your petty fears.Blackened Ash on Wooden Floors
Nothing better seems to come in death, Your dying shame veils your final breath. These shaking hands, they guide your pen to heart, Writing notes to those from whom you depart
And when the time comes, it matters not The goals in life that you have sought. You seem afraid that there are none, But no-one cares what you have done.
Nothing better seems to come in death, Your dying shame veils your final breath. And wi
by ~PublicAffairs
All that Once was MineI once thought that A brain And a heart Was enough to get by in this world Where I’d know everything there was to know About everything, and everyone, But I could put it into context Whereas those without soul have no context In their lives And they go around With empty knowledge And loaded brains With the one thing they don’t know Being where to unload It all.All that Once was Mine
And then as soon As I stepped into school My brain became the center Of ridicule Turns out smart isn’t all It’s made up to be, You
by ~PublicAffairs
| My writing from my other account, ~PublicAffairs |
Random Favourites
2: Five awkward love songs1. My Motions2: Five awkward love songs
There’s a radio In the corner of the room Turned on for some reason A song comes on that I can’t stand But you smile because It’s your favorite And I can’t help but notice The vertical motion Of my foot to the beat.
2. My Plague
Change the channels On the radio, the music Is driving me insane Whiny love songs by whiny lovers Probably written in five minutes While lying half-asleep on the floor With some story of lost love Going through their mind As they scribble
by ~PublicAffairs
3: Twenty-eight days of haiku2/01/093: Twenty-eight days of haiku
Long day of writing Eight-page long English essay Haiku brings relief
2/02/09
Half-frozen sidewalks Perilous journey to home Almost slipped and died
2/03/09
Anticipation Of the clashing of metal Blade striking at blade
2/04/09
Children shout Try to make them learn But they don't
2/05/09
Lonely eyes TV shows about Lonely love
2/06/09
Eyes try to Connect, but they just Stare right through
2/07/09
Bra
by ~PublicAffairs
4: I Dreamt I Was an ArchitectWe were creative children. We liked to build, create, imagine. We liked blocks. At some point during our childhood, my little sister and I became the proud owners of a few dozen cardboard building blocks. Blue and red and yellow and green, such a plethora of colors we had at our fingertips. And they weren’t just colorful. No, we had different shaped blocks as well. Along with your normal rectangular prism, we b4: I Dreamt I Was an Architect
by ~PublicAffairs
5: MessengerThe reflection stared back at me, intent to see something that wasn’t there. But what? What was missing? I’m still trying to find out. I splashed some water on myself, and looked back up. Still nothing. Walking out of the bathroom, I put on a shirt and shoes, and began walking to school. As I walked up the street to the high school, I averted my eyes down to the sidewalk. I did not want to5: Messenger
by ~PublicAffairs
6: Chasing GhostsThe swing set was my best friend in elementary school. When I first arrived at Lincoln Elementary, at the beginning of third grade, I was the new kid with no friends. Every day at recess, instead of playing ball or running around on the field, I sat on the swing set, reading the fourth Harry Potter book, immersed in the pages. Eventually, I began hanging out with the kids who turned out to be my friends today, creating fake clubs, waging fake gang wars on other clubs, typical elementary school activities. But I always returned to that swing set when I just wanted to think. There was somet6: Chasing Ghosts
by ~PublicAffairs
Critiques
by =SteveJones313
What I really think makes this piece is its shortness. The short descriptions really implant a picture in the reader's eyes, and, ...
by =Ultra-Violet-X
I must say, I absolutely love this picture. The butterfly looks almost robotic, in that the fuzz on its body is so sharply focused and ...
News
- 9 The Best of DeviantArt Songwriters - May 3, 2009
- 7 A History of Deviantart- Exploring the Past - Oct 9, 2008
- 12 The Hands of DeviantArt - Jul 26, 2008
- 1 Jump on the Screenshot Bandwagon - Jul 7, 2008
- 37 A Tribute to George Carlin - Jun 23, 2008
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| An asterisk (*) after anything means that I highly recommend you check it out. Current Favorite Songs Get Better by Mates of State* My Only Offer by Mates of State** Goods (All In Your Head) by Mates of State*** Fast Paced World by The Duhks* Við Spilum Endalaust by Sigur Ros** Don't Believe a Word by Third Eye Blind Heavy Metal Drummer by Wilco* Recently Bought/Uploaded Albums Fast Paced World by The Duhks* Forgiven by Los Lonely Boys War Child Presents: Heroes by Various Artists* Með Suð Í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust by Sigur Ros** Yankee Hotel Foxtrot by Wilco Musicforthemorningafter by Pete Yorn* Bringing Down the Horse by The Wallflowers* Recently Watched Movies The Importance of Being Earnest* The Taking of Pelham 123** Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist Guys and Dolls** When Harry Met Sally** Animal House Recently Read Books/Currently Reading The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini** Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell* Q&A (Slumdog Millionaire) by Vikas Swarup* |
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I'm back, baby: Updated 
Depressed
Devious Info
- Current Residence: Pittsburgh
- deviantWEAR sizing preference: Large
- Interests: Writing, photography, fencing, ping pong
- Favourite movie: Garden State, Hot Fuzz, Stranger Than Fiction
- Favourite band or musician: The Beatles, Fountains of Wayne, Coldplay, Death Cab for Cutie, U2, Andrew Bird
- Favourite genre of music: Rock, Alternative, Folk, some Pop, and Jazz
- Favourite artist: Gary Larson, Keith Harring
- Favourite poet or writer: Jonathan Safron Foer, David Sedaris, Catherine Coulter, Dave Barry, Dan Brown
- Favourite photographer: Alfred Eisenstaedt, Annie Leibovitz, Ansel Adams
- MP3 player of choice: Ipod Classic 80G
- Shell of choice: What kind of question is that?!
- Wallpaper of choice: My own photographs
- Skin of choice: I ain't racist
- Favourite game: Tetris, and Golden Sun series
- Favourite gaming platform: Wii and DS
- Favourite cartoon character: Hobbes
- Personal Quote: "I love being a writer. What I can't stand is the paperwork." - Peter De Vrie
- Tools of the Trade: Nikon D80 DSLR camera with Nikkor 18-135mm zoom lens, Microsoft Word 2007, Photoshop Elements 5
- Website: http://www.facebook.com/gaberosenbergphotography
- Email: gabriel.j.rosenberg@gmail.com
- AIM: BlackPeregrine8
- MSN: blackperegrin@hotmail.com
deviantID
| I'm a modern hippie liberal, except without the drugs. I'm also a Jew. Go ahead and be jealous of my minority-ness. On my desk is a miniature Buddha, and a typewriter that I bought from a garage sale, for the heck of it. I'm addicted to my music, and don't care what you think, though I'd love to hear any artist suggestions. Did I leave anything else? Oh yeah. I hate lasagna. |
My Writing Account
| I'm opening an account specifically for my written works. As soon as I can, all my writing (well, all my good writing. I'll do some cleaning up) will be transferred over there. My photography will all stay here. |
Visitors
- Jul 5, 2009 @ 5:46 am=Offering
- Jul 5, 2009 @ 2:36 am~Theme3
- Jul 4, 2009 @ 11:32 pm~Meropa
- Jul 4, 2009 @ 3:13 pm~IenzoLauri
- Jul 4, 2009 @ 3:01 pm~LostMyFangs
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'tis appreciated!
--
.. l'enfer est d'autres personnes ..
Jean-Paul Sartre
--
Yeah, I've done time.
You know those "DO NOT REMOVE UNDER THE PENALTY OF LAW" stickers on mattresses?
Yup. Cut it right off.
This is not a good thing to write, when an Italian girl may read your page!
--
Everyone discusses my art and pretends to understand, as if it were necessary to understand, when it is simply necessary to love. Claude Monet
MY BLOG [link]
But it's an important part of my bio. It's necessary information.
--
Yeah, I've done time.
You know those "DO NOT REMOVE UNDER THE PENALTY OF LAW" stickers on mattresses?
Yup. Cut it right off.
--
Everyone discusses my art and pretends to understand, as if it were necessary to understand, when it is simply necessary to love. Claude Monet
MY BLOG [link]
Because, I mean, if someone was trying to give me some lasagna, and then saw my biography, then they'd be all, "Oh, I can't do that, he hates lasagna".
--
Yeah, I've done time.
You know those "DO NOT REMOVE UNDER THE PENALTY OF LAW" stickers on mattresses?
Yup. Cut it right off.
--
Street photography is NOT a photograph of an empty street, traffic lights or graffiti. If you want to find out what street photography is really about check out the The Yard Collective [link]
--
Yeah, I've done time.
You know those "DO NOT REMOVE UNDER THE PENALTY OF LAW" stickers on mattresses?
Yup. Cut it right off.
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