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#SUPER result
mienar · 1 month
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the wandering painter, part one
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inkskinned · 8 months
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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kenobihater · 2 months
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no nuance, no show results, no 50-50
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onionninjasstuff · 6 months
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brought to you by @scatterbrainedbot's tags
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multicolour-ink · 1 year
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Words cannot express how grateful I am to the animators for getting across so much joy and communication through these expressions 💖
Also the very relatable feeling of being an adult and trying to make it on your own - then getting your first client/job and feeling elated 🤭
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flourish-of-steel · 2 days
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bringing back some watercolors
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monstermonger · 9 months
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I've been asked a few times now, if these kinds of illustrations are traditional or digital. it's both <: The inks are traditional, made with 03 or 05 micron pen.
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Then I take it to Clip Studio. Paint-bucket and basic brushes are used for big blocks of color and some preliminary details.
Brushes: Dense Watercolor, Transparent Watercolor, India Ink Darker Bleed, Bit Husky, G-pen, Milli Pen, Cross hatching texture brush. Blend: Running Color On Fiber
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Somewhere in there, I'll pick up a free-to-use watercolor texture and set it on overlay, to see how it meshes with the values I already sketched in. I'll finish up the rest of the smaller details/values with the same above brushes. And voila.
Hope that's helpful <:
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k9catastrophe · 2 months
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Therians of Tumblr, do you remember this?
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I've seen a common theme of therians playing this game before and im curious
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pianokantzart · 6 months
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Page 1 // ...... // Page 55 // Page 56 & 57 // Page 58 & 59 // …
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miniiieevee · 7 months
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[creates nebulae as if i'm making pizza]
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shevr · 1 year
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mblue-art · 7 months
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sans au sexyman polls doooodle
congrats to the kings<3 🫶🫶🫶
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skitskatdacat63 · 1 month
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"it was good fun! Surprisingly competitive I would say!"
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rexscanonwife · 2 months
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Uhm uh uh...I have no excuse for this 😔 PPG self insert who is secretly an alien! I imagine her intro episode would have her having a little romance with the professor when he comes into a bookstore she works at/owns and the girls being (rightfully, given the prof's dating history) suspicious of her. Wacky capers ensue where they try to prove that she's up to no good, only to find that she genuinely is just chilling and wants to live a normal life on earth!
Well, normal as she can, now that she knows this family! I think she'd fit right in 😉
Taglist♡: @crushes-georg @changeling-selfship @me-myself-and-my-fos @tiny-cloud-of-flowers @sunstar-of-the-north @dearly-beeloved @adoredbyalatus @squips-ship @cherry-bomb-ships @miutonium
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syn0vial · 7 months
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Wyll Voicelines: Healing/Helping/Buffing
A compilation of Wyll’s voicelines when he’s healing a character with a spell, using the “help” action to free them from an immobilized position, or casting a buffing spell.
Healing (Negative Approval)
Getting it done.
A clear necessity.
To the rescue. Of course.
To the rescue.
No need to thank me.
Let's not make a habit of this.
The greater good.
Healing (Neutral Approval)
The Blade provides.
I've got just the fix.
I'll get you fit as a fox.
The cure for what ails you.
Need some healing?
Let's patch you up.
Healing (Positive Approval)
This should do the trick!
Happy to help!
Healing you up.
I'll patch you right up.
The touch of life.
Healing (Romantic Interest)
I've got you!
I won't let you down!
Keep calm - I'm coming!
You can count on me!
Let me help!
It's not your time.
Breathe easy.
Making you better.
Helping (Negative Approval)
Saving the day.
Coming.
As a favour.
So it goes.
If it can't wait.
Nothing but trouble.
You can't get yourself out?
Trapped? I suppose I could help.
Helping (Neutral Approval)
How 'bout a hand?
I've got it covered.
That's what I'm here for.
Better hurry!
On my way!
Hold it together!
Keep calm - I'm coming!
Coming to help.
Hero's work.
Helping (Positive Approval)
Here for you.
I've got you.
A bit of a bind.
A helping hand.
I'll get you free!
Don't worry - I've got this!
Help's on the way!
Helping (Romantic Interest)
Can't do it without you.
You can count on me.
I won't let you down.
That won't do.
Buffing (Negative Approval)
I'll do what I can.
The greater good.
As you need.
Doing my duty.
You need all the help you can get.
Buck up already.
Buffing (Neutral Approval)
The Blade's got you!
How about a pick-me-up?
Every little bit helps.
Proper inspiration.
Some pep for your step.
Willing and able.
Buffing (Positive Approval)
A friend in deed.
Easing your burden.
I won't let you down.
Be at ease.
Keep strong!
Need a boost?
At your service!
Buffing (Romantic Interest)
Stronger together.
I'll always come through.
I've got you.
We will prevail!
Here for you!
I won't turn my back!
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koinotame · 1 month
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quick apology fic to xiao for missing his bday </3 which doubles as a character study of xiao and an exploration of how you as the player interact with the self aware characters in self aware au
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it’s been a couple of weeks since you last used him.
or has it only been several days? whether it’s days or years, it all feels like the blink of an eye to him. the flow of time is somewhat of a nebulous concept for someone like him, especially since you first appeared.
it doesn’t matter. however long you take to come back, xiao will wait dutifully for you.
he spends most of his time when you’re not making use of him subjugating threats around liyue and fighting off any unwanted foes. perhaps you’ll come back faster if the area is freer of enemies. you’re kind, after all. you seem much happier when it’s peaceful.
lately, when there’s no demons for him to quell, he’s found himself returning to the same spot on wangshu inn’s upper balcony. it’s the spot you always drop him off at before disappearing. it’s not the place at the top of the inn’s roof he’d pick on his own, though you do sometimes take him up there as well.
you’re not actually there, but if he closes his eyes it almost feels like you are.
his birthday was a couple days ago. as usual, the traveller had suggested he write you a letter. as usual, he wasn’t sure what he could possibly convey to you that you would be happy to receive.
the traveller insisted anything from him would make you happy, but xiao doubts that.
it’s easier when you’re here. it’s easier when you’re here and he can submit himself entirely to you and doesn’t have to think for himself.
he’s been dreaming more lately, particularly of you. he doesn’t know what you look like, and after he wakes up he can never quite remember what you looked like in his dreams.
waking up after dreaming of you is always hard for xiao. it’s shameful how badly he wants to go back to dreaming of doing such mundane things with you, and it’s disgraceful how long it takes him to pick himself back up afterwards.
he wonders if you’d like doing dull things like that with someone like him.
he wonders if he deserves that.
probably not.
he left the letter at the railing of that same—your—spot, along with a serving of his almond tofu (he might not like dreaming, but he hopes your dreams are as sweet as his have been lately), some dream solvent (the traveller had mentioned you seemed to want more) and a small bundle of qixing (you frequently go out of your way to collect it).
you never touch it.
…after a couple days, he decided to move the offering to his room. it stays there, on his windowsill where the sun touches it in a way that reminds him of your warmth, untouched.
it doesn’t matter, he tells himself. he’ll wait for you for as long as you want. even if another thousand years pass before you appear again, he’ll continue his duty and wait.
and then he blinks and suddenly finds himself in front of the adventurer’s guild in the court of fontaine.
another blink and he’s back at wangshu inn, this time heading towards the kitchen. the familiar aura of your possession fills him with a warmth he doesn’t think exists outside of you. he zones out for what feels no longer than a couple seconds, and suddenly there’s thirty servings of almond tofu in front of him.
your mood drops.
dissatisfaction seeps through you and into him. something deep in his gut squirms.
you set a large amount of sweet flowers to boil, then seem to fuss with something he can’t quite see or grasp. smiley yanxiao gives him a curious look, but doesn’t (cannot) comment any further.
in another couple of seconds—your teleportation hardly fazed him when you first started using him, let alone now when he’s so used to your presence—he’s in front of the liyuean general goods store. you buy up the entire stock of milk, and only milk.
your mood hasn’t improved. if anything, you seem even more downcast.
the milk dissipates as soon as it’s been bought, safely held in your near infinite storage.
he’s behind mondstadt’s hotel next, jumping down the railing and towards the local general goods store. again, you buy up all the milk. next you head for the good hunter (is that what it’s called? he thinks that’s what the traveller called it some time ago) and purchase as much of their sugar as you can.
tendrils of something truly unpleasant move upwards and wrap around his neck.
he finds himself in wangshu inn’s kitchen again. barely any of the sweet flowers have been processed, but you take the two packs of sugar anyway. you put him to work immediately.
usually, he finds the process of cooking much to tedious and drawn out. with you, he doesn’t mind.
you seem a bit more satisfied this time, and xiao finds himself ashamed of having made a few more of his specialty dish instead of only regular almond tofu like you’d wanted him to.
while you seem a bit happier now, he still finds himself in front of inazuma’s goods store. again, you buy all the milk. you talk to the restaurant owner up the stairs afterwards. some confusion creeps into him through you, but it doesn’t last long.
he’s in sumeru next. more milk makes its way into your inventory, and you visit the local tavern for good measure, though this time you don’t buy anything at all.
exiting the building, you seem to notice there’s a stove just outside of it and walk over in excitement… and straight into the clay oven.
a sharp pang of panic shoots through him and he jerks backwards. it takes him a second to realise it’s your panic.
immediately, you pull the astrologer from mondstadt out and have her set down her little hydro puppet. you then walk him through it, which does absolutely nothing except soak his clothes.
your panic doesn’t subside.
i’m sorry.
he blinks and finds himself in front of dihua marsh’s statue of the seven, the fire and the tinge it brought with it disappearing in seconds.
it’s rare to be able to make out what you’re actually saying as opposed to just feeling your vague emotions and intentions. are you that worried about him not performing up to standard with this little damage?
he’s yours to use. a little singe like that would never hold him back.
you don’t bother with fontaine.
something like shame curls up his body and makes a home near his ears.
soon after, he’s back at the inn’s kitchen again. yanxiao doesn’t even look in his direction this time as he gets back to work under your guidance, making even more almond tofu. he makes sure to take greater care to avoid displeasing you again.
your mood doesn’t pick up this time, but you seem to have calmed down a little. he’s not sure why (or what use you could possibly have for so much almond tofu), but it’s a small comfort.
part of him wishes he could be there with you properly to comfort you, but he knows better.
he might be your formidable weapon, but that’s all he is. he has no false illusions about his role or purpose to you, no matter how much he wishes he could be the one you turn to for comfort. he isn’t suited to something so delicate. he’s accepted that a long time ago.
your dejection doesn’t retract, even as you move him around a bit more.
then you sit him down at a table at the inn’s terrace and pull out a plate of his specialty.
your presence lingers for a bit, envelops him like a gentle dream, then falls through the cracks of his existence and disappears.
happy birthday, xiao.
he wonders if he deserves this much effort from you for something as inconsequential as his birthday.
probably not.
he hopes he’ll dream of this next.
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