That feeling when you have a really and awful piece of writing but it marks a huge mark for your writing progress in general so you just kinda have to deal with the fact that it exists.
The idea that uni protesters are "elitist ivy-league rich kids larping as revolutionaries" on Twitter and Reddit and even here is so fucking funny to me if you actually know anything about the student bodies at these unis. Take it from someone who's going to one of the biggest private unis in the US, 80% of the peers I know are either from the suburbs or an apartment somewhere in America, children of immigrants, or here on a student visa. I've heard about one-percenter students, but I've never met one in person. Like, don't get me wrong, the institution as a whole is still very privileged and white. I've talked with friends and classmates about feeling weird or dissonant being here and coming from such a different background. But in my art program, I see BIPOC, disabled, queer, lower-income students and faculty trying to deconstruct and tear that down and make space every day. So to take a cursory glance at a crowd of student protesters in coalitions that are led by BIPOC & 1st/2nd-gen immigrant students and HQ'd in ethnic housings and student organizations and say, "ah. children of the elite." Get real.
The messenger bag I made in 2019 finally started to wear to pieces after four years of faithful service. Time for a new one!
I made the original bag without a pattern, but this time I had something to work with. I took the old bag apart and made a pattern from the pieces.
It took me a while to find the right material. I wasn’t sure what it would look like, I just knew I’d know it when I saw it. I finally found this double-sided Japanese cloth in a shop in Portland.
Once I had the right cloth for the exterior, I found a fun pattern for the interior bag in a local shop. (I always use a lighter material for the interior so it's easier to find things).
The first bag was a struggle—I had no idea what I was doing! I expected the second bag to be difficult as well, but the process went surprisingly smoothly. I got stuck a few times and had to take a day or two to figure out a solution, but the solutions always worked better than I expected!
For instance—in spite of carefully measuring each piece, the outer flap ended up being too small. I ended up constructing a border to extend the edges.
With heavy interfacing and waterproof lining, the walls were very thick and tricky to work with. Having a better sewing machine than last time helped!
Lots of pockets and hooks on the inside—essential.
I found a leather camera strap I haven't used since college and added a couple of decorative wooden buttons a friend gave me and I'd been saving for the right moment. The blue webbing along the sides that support the leather strap are repurposed from the original bag. I like that a little bit of the old bag is worked into the new.
The whole process took... weeks—but I’m so happy with how it all came together!
Listen, I know the lyrics refer to sulfur's smell, but you can't just put two crystal/rock names next to each other and expect my crystal/rock loving ass to do nothing about it
The original idea did not include a box at all, but since we have one anyway, I am thrilled to inform you that i've accidentally chosen a box in which a package with minerals and rocks came to me, so the box went full circle and it's such a fitting thing for a sleep token fanart that i've literally freaked out when i've realised that
i love making text-heavy stuff tbh. i think i've realistically "outgrown" weirdcore at least with regard to the more heavily edited stuff, but i still deeply love the idea of making my writing pieces look like they're fucked up pieces of old web lost media, so i think i've found a way to keep going despite that
karaoke was SO MUCH FUN!! thank you (and one more thank you and one more thank you and one more thank you. maybe even one more thank you. maybe one more)