drawing I made while testing infinite painter

trying out new art apps! I might switch from ibis to Infinite painter or HiPaint ^^ but anyways here’s some purple Wally art 💜

Scrolling through the WIP tag and saw your art. I used autodesk sketchbook for a really long time before switching to Infinite Painter.

It's like $7 but it's basically procreate for Android. I found it a bit easier to use and it has more functions.

I acknowledge this is completely unsolicited advice that may not interest you

I appreciate your ask!

I really like using Autodesk Sketchbook, as it's very simple and I enjoy using it.

If I ever get the chance, I think I might check out Infinite Painter, as I do like seeing if I can work with other art programs! Especially since I do think I should exercise my program flexibility.

Thank you for your information and advice!

How do you research things for your fic?

to be honest with you, anon, this question really surprised me bc i always over-research my fic, but the AUs i write are so commonplace and ordinary that i never think you’d be able to guess from reading that i’m doing any research at all (rip). so thank you for asking! :D 

certain kinds of fic, like historical AUs, obviously require a very broad approach that includes political, historical, cultural etc. research on a comparably vast scale. i’ve usually avoided this by choosing settings i’m already familiar with, so most of the research i do is detail work. for this kind of research, i’ve got a few pointers: 

start broad, but get specific as quickly as you can. narrowing things down early on will save you from not being able to see the forest for the trees. if you’re researching, say, libraries as a setting, read a wiki article or two, then pick one specific library you feel might vibe with your story and use that one as a guiding line. if your character is a painter in the 1820s, pick up a biography of one specific 1820s artist once you have your basics down. 

in a similar vein: if a setting exists in real life, keep your research close to real life. if you’re trying to find out how a bridal boutique is run, it’s a lot more helpful to look up the page of an actual bridal boutique and see how large their team is, what their hours are, what services they offer, etc, than to read a generalised write-up about how bridal boutiques are meant to be run. if you’re researching a certain profession, look up real job ads and job reviews for the role. if it’s an unusual or specific setting, see if there was ever a reddit AMA for it - that’s how i learned a lot about life in communes, for instance. 

(equally, this is obvious, but if you can, ask a friend! i’m not much of a shakespeare person & haven’t worked a show since school, but when i was writing a theatre AU, friends who were theatre people were my best bet for wildly specific questions like “where would a good place backstage be to hide away and cry?”)

don’t underestimate youtube as a resource! pretty often when you’re researching a profession or a place, videos can give you a much more vivid idea of what matters for your story than an article, and there are a lot of really interesting mini-documentaries or even informative vlogs on youtube. 

if you can and wherever it applies, don’t be afraid to switch languages for your research. a lot of the time, local websites are infinitely more useful for settings than an abbreviated and translated wiki article, and even where you don’t read the language, google translate can sometimes be Good, Actually and at least help you out a little bit. 

this is all pretty general advice, and of course, depending on what you’re writing, your research needs may be a lot more specific. my overall advice for the sort of fic research that requires actual academic articles is to break through paywalls by using sci-hub, and not to procrastinate through research. the actual fic needs writing, too, and no one’s gonna notice if your minutiae on ancient pottery aren’t watertight. i promise. 

Notes Du Jardin Balcon 🌴

🐝The weekend swept by in a cacophony of music, dancing, feasting, swimming and painting. I enjoyed myself thoroughly as we succumbed to the pleasures of both old loves as well as attempting novel adventures. I created a studio in my petite balcony garden to create more video content, perhaps I will entitle this production, Notes Du Jardin Balcon, where I am able to share ideas, imagination, musings, theories and wishes with my viewers. I set up a backdrop of a beautiful, antique, handmade crochet fabric, garlanded with a string of fairy lights, above a bohemian bed with floral, color infused and euphorically patterned pillows. As a determined reader, voracious consumer of culture, an occasional meditator, a reluctant attorney, a dreamy water color painter, fastidious start up founder, a word obsessed writer, frazzled mother and whimsical wife, I wear many hats and experience varying degrees of insight, inspiration, charm, magic and illumination, through each of them. I sail across the boundaries separating reveries from reality, music from silence, bliss from despair, laughter from tears as well as, transverse the chasm between light and shadows, with relative ease and persistent practice. Sharing these, through the medium of video might help me inch closer to the truth, which the pixels attest, shimmers distantly, yet distinctly, in the horizon.

We took the children to a vivid park, which in late September, was laden with desert butterflies, eagles, finches, blossoming palos verdes, flowering cacti, wildflowers and more. With the saguaro dotted mountains framing the terrain, the infinite sky tinted in boarding school blue, bereft of clouds and the grass presenting itself in symphonic, heavenly shades of jade, citrine and emeralds, we lay out our blue and white blanket with yogurt, granola, apple sauce and water, before collecting botanical specimens to observe, to bird watch and to meditate. As the children played, I switched on the Ibiza sunrise radio station, discovering that the whirling breezes, open spaces and glorious day was created for dancing; of being free, joyous, ecstatic, wanton, heedless, wild and unencumbered.

Though, I try to carve time for myself from the unrelenting demands of the family, I tend to be extremely lazy, preferring to spend my scant personal hours, reading, star gazing, gardening, painting, or fulfilling the infinite loop of household duties, of cooking, laundry, organizing and cleaning. Yet, in a random push for self care, I gave myself a facial after a whole year of unforgivable neglect. I made a bowl of roiling, perfumed chamomile tea, to steam my face, before exfoliating with jojoba beads laced in coconut and avocado oil, applying a mask of pink French clay, continuing with toning using cotton soaked in witch hazel and closing the ritual, with messaging rose-hip oil to the freshly tended skin. I also dry brushed and applied coconut avocado oil all over my body. Despite the fact that the endeavor took many months of accumulated willpower to overcome the casual ignorance of my skin, afterwards, I felt, a sense of invincible well being, with a perceptible change in self confidence, emanating from the fact that I accomplished something for myself. Whether my skin is better, or healthier or more dewy, comes second to the fact that I realized that I also matter in the scheme of things, that I cannot spend all my time, energy and resources, keeping the ship afloat, while abandoning my own needs, and that the dividends of well-being, nurturing and healing multiply exponentially, when I have a full well to source. 🌵

how does jo, cassie, and lisa feel about each of the guys?

Oh damn, switching things up on me. Okay then, I’m down. ;)

Jocelyn – the first of the gals. Naturally, she’s head over heels for Raphael, would say or do just about anything for him. She loves every little thing about him, even and especially the things he struggles with (read: his fears and triggers). And while she doesn’t necessarily have a great deal of patience, if he needs her for anything, she’s there and with the infinite patience of a god. I don’t think I need to add how drop-dead sexy she finds him, I’m sure. XP

With Leo, she has notably less positive feelings. Similar to Raph, Leo tends to piss her off, though she understands that nine times out of ten, his intentions are good, even if his methods irritate her. That said, she has a healthy amount of respect for him all the same, and she often finds herself impressed with him, too. After all, it takes an incredible man to be able to deal with three brothers of vastly different personalities – namely in keeping them from getting into fights all the damn time.

Mikey is one of her best friends. As we all know, she has a brother complex, and Mikey perfectly fits the kind of brother she would’ve wanted for herself. She has the most patience for him of everyone, she thinks he’s lethally cute, and while his jokes tend to be ridiculous, she loves that he tries so hard to keep everyone happy. Of all the brothers, she believes Mikey needs a lover the most, so she’s absolutely elated that he found Lisa.

And Donnie’s her low-key favorite bro. Between his calm demeanor, obvious brilliance, and witty sarcasm, she meshes with him amazingly well. She doesn’t always follow his conversations so well, but she’s smart enough to keep up in the long run, at least, and it keeps them on friendly terms. That said, she feels really bad for him; she thinks he’s an amazing guy but he clearly doesn’t feel the same. More than Leo, she wants Donnie to find his perfect someone. She hopes they’ll be capable of handling his unique brilliance.

Lisa – second to fall. Put simply, she’s a mirror image to Mikey, and she couldn’t be happier with anyone else. His affection, understanding, humor, and energy were exactly what she’d needed to really come to life. With him around she’s never bored or lonely or afraid. He makes everything brighter, and she never, ever wants to lose that. At this point she can’t even imagine her life without him in it. The only negative is that they’re both kinda notably dummies, so in situations where she needs to think ahead or focus, Mikey’s nature can irritate her and even drive her to explode.

Donnie is her second-favorite of the turtles. Unlike Raph, he doesn’t tease her, and unlike Leo, he isn’t condescending – unintentionally or otherwise. Plus, she loves his creations. She doesn’t understand mechanics in the slightest, but she finds everything he makes fascinating, cool, and often bad-ass. She still freaks out about Mikey’s jet-board, after all, and Donnie made it. But, unlike Jo, Lisa feels dumb next to him, and it drives her to keep any opinions or – god forbid – questions to herself. She knows she won’t be able to understand him so she generally keeps her lips zipped.

Leo scares her. Not intentionally and not physically, really, but just in poise. When he stands still, quietly watching with his arms crossed, she gets the unnerving feeling that he’s looking into her soul, and given she isn’t even sure she believes in souls, it’s kind of terrifying. She respects him, for the most part, but also finds his personality too stiff; she feels she can’t talk to him. They also share precisely zero interests and she’s discovered (through video games) that he’s highly competitive and a sore loser, so the one thing she knows she can beat him at, she also never challenges him with. She just doesn’t want to make him upset.

And Raph – he’s the big brother. He’s nothing at all like Sam, but that’s a point in his favor. Initially he terrified her just from his size alone, but with time that lessened. She still gets scared of him whenever he loses his temper, but for the most part she’s calmed down around him. She isn’t so fond of his teasing and swearing, and his relationship with Jo makes Lisa very uncomfortable, but overall she’s more at ease with Raph than Leo. He just has a very disarming sense about him, a laid-back attitude, and obvious humor in between every sentence, and it reminds her of Mikey’s personality just enough that he’s an okay guy to have around.

Cassie – friendly, sweet Cassie. To a small degree she’s drawn to all of the brothers, but she finds herself the most relaxed with Leo. He just seems to exude serenity, and it attracts her – though not quite so much as the hidden intensity she can feel just under the surface. A part of her wants to unravel him, figure out why he sometimes tenses up so bad when they’re otherwise relaxed, even as another part of her warns her that she might not like what she finds when she does. Still, he’s been nothing but the picture of politeness and respect the entire time she’s known him, and she loves the way he always makes her feel so safe.

Raphael, well…she’s known him the longest. She’s seen him with Jocelyn and analyzed the way they are together and spoken to Jo, at length, about him dozens of times. She’s seen how gentle and sweet he is with Jo and concluded that he’s a big softy. His anger and strength can spook her, but she’s developed a strong trust for him all the same. She knows he’ll never hurt anyone who doesn’t deserve it, and that he’ll definitely never hurt Jo. She believes it all the more strongly after Jo’s attack, too, and would trust him with her own life.

Mikey is, in her opinion, heart incarnate. The first time she met him he’d offered her comfort, and she very quickly became disarmed in his embrace. Ever since she’s known, without a doubt, that he’s probably the most trustworthy of all the brothers. For a while she was uncomfortable with the way he seemed to be pursuing her, but after he got together with Lisa and Cassie saw the two of them together, he went from “kinda weird” to “easily the most besotted person alive”. He’s just too cute, and she feels a bizarre desire to keep him safe – even though she knows it’s the opposite.

And Donnie is…intimidating. She views him as the biggest of the turtles despite Raph’s greater mass, but honestly, the thing that intimidates her the most is his boundless brilliance. She hasn’t talked to him much, but the few times she did, she was immediately swept away by just how damn smart he is. She’s impressed, yes, but also brutally assaulted by his higher thinking. In school, she was an almost straight-A student, a point of pride for her, and next to Donnie she feels like a finger painter. She likes him, overall, but just can’t get along with someone who makes her feel so damn inadequate.

- Nightshade

I'm 86. Been painting a long time ad now trying digital art. Tablet I find too small so have set up to image transfer to my TV but finding it difficult to keep switching my eyes from tablet to tv. Have read your advice that I will get better with use but do you have any further tips on this point? I use infinite painter and Picasso. Can you recommend anything better? John Willis ( genuine prewar chromosomes! )

Hey–if you’re actually 86 and taking up digital art that’s insanely cool (seriously, so much respect)!  I’d definitely recommend Procreate if you’re using an iPad with an Apple Pencil.  The Pencil’s functionality was heavily influenced by the development of Procreate, meaning that the iPad and Procreate were made to work very smoothly together.  

I suspect that you’re not using an iPad, however (possibly a Samsung tablet?), and in any case I don’t know a lot about mobile art programs–sorry! So I have an extra suggestion for your computer or laptop.  If you have a computer that can run Photoshop (very powerful tool for illustration, design, etc., $20 a month), Corel Painter (famously good at emulating traditional media, one time payment of around $400), Krita (doesn’t have all the capabilities of PS or Painter but it’s free), or FireAlpaca (lovely and simple, great way to introduce yourself to digital art, also free), consider getting a cheap tablet (Wacom sells pretty decent small ones for around $70 or $80).  Probably get either Krita or FireAlpaca so you don’t have to worry about spending money, plug in the tablet and draw.  

There’s two reasons why this might help you with focusing on the image on the TV: one, there’s no image on a computer tablet so you won’t feel the urge to look at it when you want to see your drawing.  It should, over some time, kick your habit of needing to see a picture where your hand is.  The second reason is more subtle, but it may help your workflow: the slightly textured, rigid feel of Wacom tablets (not sure about other ones) is kind of a happy medium between the uncannily smooth texture of Samsung/Apple tablet screens and the rough, flexible, tangible feeling of a pencil on paper or a brush on canvas.  A computer tablet can therefore provide you with an easier transition between your normal traditional media and whatever mobile tablet you’re using.

If you don’t have a computer or you’re not able to get a computer tablet and/or art program, identify whether you’re looking at your tablet because you’re just used to looking at your hand when you paint, or because you miscalculate the length of your lines and you need to look down to get a reference point.  If it’s chiefly the former reason then you just have to keep drawing and actively stop yourself when you look at the tablet.  If it’s the latter, familiarize yourself with the dimensions of your tablet and spend time drawing simple lines/curves and internalizing how far you can move your hand before you go from one end of the canvas to the other.  

Best of luck to you, with whatever piece of advice you choose to take!  

PS, your username caught my attention–I just started listening to the Discworld novels and I’m on the Colour of Magic right now.  Cute little coincidence.

Hello! I saw your Cullen art on my dash and I just wanted to tell you that it's absolutely gorgeous and I've been staring at it for god knows how long! Do you have any advice on how to get better at art? ty and I hope you have a nice day

Hello! :> Thank you so much, I’m so glad you likemy Cullen artworks! ; v ;I am no professional artist and I’m self-taught, but I’d gladly share what I’velearned through the years and what I’m still trying to learn today. I hope ithelps a bit!

First of all, I think there are things that might work for me, but not for youor someone else. This might depend on ourlifestyles, personalities, interests, goals and even our own concept of art.

• Practice*everyone screaming “We knoooooow that”in the background*I’m sure every artist says so, but it’s worth repeating it: I swear, practice isessential to get better at art. Without it, you can’t improve. It’s likelearning to play a musical instrument or training to become an athlete. • Time & patienceIt goes without saying that getting better at art takes time and requirespatience, other than effort and willpower. If you don’t have time to draw andpractice every day (like me), but you still love art, please don’t give up yourpassion! Believe me, one can be both an artist and a (non-art)student and/or aworker, a homemaker… No one says it’s easy - it might be difficult for thosewho have plenty of free time, too. Perhaps you can’t commit to art full time,but in the long run your soul will thank you for letting art be a constant withyour life, even for a small number of hours per week. Then who knows, art couldbecome your main job one day.• Study & set yourself goalsOf course, studying anatomy, colour, light, perspective, composition and suchare going to build a firm basis of skills you can count on when it comes torepresent what you have in your mind. You can also study artworks from otherartists, including photos. This is actually my favourite exercise and it usuallyhelps boost my inspiration. If you like, you can look for workflow videosonline or art talks and critiques. Like, the first three YT channels that cometo my mind are Ahmed Aldoori, Sycra and Sara Tepes!Finding and setting your own goals, be it mastering a certain area of study, orjust be able to draw a horse or be one of the best designers of clothespins, couldbe one way to stay motivated. Two of my goals at the moment are getting betterat painting skin and painting high resolution images!

Little tip: Imagine you’re going todraw a portrait of a woman, framed from the waist up. Let’s suppose it includestwo things you are not very good at drawing: hands and clothes. You want to focus on your weaknesses, so you shouldtry and study these two elements. You could ask someone to pose for you, or youcan look for references (refs areBLISS, refs are LIFE) online; alternatively, you could simulate folds of theshirt of the woman by wearing a similar one and looking at yourself in themirror, in case you can’t find any suitable references.This is actually the way I’ve learnt most of the stuff I know. I decide what todraw and I possibly include something I want to improve. This means getting out of the comfort zone. I’mnot saying it’s the best method, but it works for me at the moment (and I wouldsuggest trying it): I don’t have much free time but I’m not sacrificing thechance to learn something new, to experiment.I still struggle with all of those areas of study today (anatomy, etc.). I knowthat if I could practice more, I would be a lot better, but I’ve learned to dealwith the fact that I have little time to do that and I can’t do anything aboutit. This leads to the next point. 

• ENJOY what youdoI guess every artist (me included! :D) on the planethas experienced, at least once, that awful frustration, that terrible lack ofinspiration. Some people want to cry, then end up thinking they’re not talentedenough, that they can’t make it and that they’ll never get better.Discouragement can actually be a common feeling for every kind of artist, be ita painter, a writer, a musician, an actor… but never let this feeling wear youout. If all you see is crap in your art, then what you can do is take a break from drawing. Clear yourmind, find a distraction. Do not forceyourself to draw, if this will result in an increasing amount of negative,unhealthy feelings that won’t lead you anywhere. You don’t want art to stress you out. It should be something youenjoy doing, it should relax, comfort you and make you happy, right?

Also, if you can easily get negative, look otherartists you love with admiration and let them be your source of inspiration,rather than another excuse to harshly critique yourself because “they’re betterthan you”. You know what’s been a huge mistake for me? Being extremelyself-critical and negative about my art, which often prevents me from seeing myimprovements. This is why appreciation for my works surprises me every time andI am so infinitely glad whenever my art manages to convey a message, a feelingor tell a story. My modesty and lack of self-esteem caused me to miss some goodopportunities and I still have to learn from this all. I’m working on it :’DI can’t tell you much about styles instead. As for mine, I don’t worry too muchabout it. I like variation in my artworks J Indeed, I would consider being able to switch fromone style to another as an additional skill!

I think there’s nothing more I can think about at themoment; anyway, my ask is always open for questions. This is not much and you’dhave probably heard about the same stuff many times, but hopefully my littleexperience can be of some help (?) Have a nice day and thank you again! ♥

shaking cables

i think - what if i were not a scheme but the goal so i shake the cables and switch for a while all is well but still the death, still the pink foam and still i am led away from the ash to thee

i think - what if i hadn't shadow but cyanoacrylate so i shake the cables and switch for a while all is well but a strange death, a distant pink foam and an ash tree releases its leaves to thee

i think - what if i weren't poet but painter so i shake the cables and switch for a while all is well and i color death in mad shades of pink and i frame it in ash wood, to give to thee

so i think of the infinite lines, the mathematics of it all, what might exist of the unending cables i can never possibly reach… and realize none of it actually matters. there is only this one cable (

it glitters it glows it coils under an unused window

)  there is only this one cable that i am falling slowly through, and it always ever and only led to you.

Wandering Radical

     Perhaps at the end of the day I am the sun, am as absurd as calling      It a morning sun or setting, like a battle between mind and mind,

               To scope the angles of the clouds and sweetly To assume the when, sans context

        Of the time, completely blind to when, the sky in either case a mirror                          Image. Its qualities indicate both ends of today,

    Revealing the same hued leveling frames congealing on the horizon              Like wet sugar at the bottom of your cup of tea, which I am

Not sure this is; or I am The sun’s ill-researched absurdity Itself, whose heat spills all serious upon

     The blank heavens: a blank dark as had ruled Across the garden grounds where-

   -The radical will, is fated to, wander. It is when Our watches tell us that the day is come, yet light is not Yet light but lesser dark. Something vague on the horizon

   Upheaves the severest corners Of sleep, but leaves us as of then not sensitive to the explosive Draught wakening senses to their duty; drippingly,                                  A high peace of morning, a piece of the

Peace, of time in fickle frames unmovable. The-         -Radical takes a walk.

                      It is how he does his time on this visionary Earth, Or call it prison, fabrication---it is this fabricated

             Intensity of devotion that makes him Properly diurnal.

             In his quakes of pattern, The radical configures      An equivalent paean for the sun and

Moon. I memorialize the minutes of his life by linking these. All of him is all of me accumulated, but in frames of death, not Life, though the radical takes some action to deny his lack of self, Once fetched together by the sun and once all the frames are single-file

As like the resuscitated breather’s breath, the radical Enacts his betrayal of me and himself, he takes his walk back To the moon’s fugitive remaining parts,

             Essentially backing the wrong horse, his reasoning a roast         Of change of day, a circular riposte

Unto that offense of passing time, that is, a passing into The light of day, as if his own reality were more at stake

In a fluxive World. This choice resulted quickly in diffusion, him                 With the rest of night among the weltering calm

                                    Palinode, and pallet, of dawn colors---this        To catch the memory of being, as if he was at all

Before I made him wander, by being in the night,              He is from bones to flesh to a frame among frames    Of passing time, a circular riposte

Unto some offense, when to be the footman both      Of a sun and Moon, independent of the meld of both Into some other---since in being, One cannot be, without an Other---

             Robs time from the already-flimsy being Of the radical, makes his realness flee

Into something metaphorical already, even before I write it so: He has been there before, in the metaphor. He says

    This in the garden, and suddenly finds no     More to be found there but tombs, tombs

Garbed in glitz and beads for epitaph of words Soaking in the petty stylings of truth’s obligatory

Temporalities, and those truths especially of life, In bleak essay for our dank attachments Daily to be rid, for sake of his

And any life of radical, And he lamed by these withered words about it.             Yet they are not idiom

To be put together, the way one as him, but not him, The way I put together the blueness of the atmosphere And light through the big tree: with my massive-

-Painter’s hands, I cluck him out his hoot, contrary hoot,                     And find I holler answer in

My own mind: he sees himself---in my gusty, Gutsy absurdness; yet unsated, continues licking at these

     Chromatic choirs of light through lewd yew trees. It was his sun heaved upwards to the other side

Of the planet, for he was there where I cannot be, The same as maker cannot be the made. He eyed

The sun: it was the same answer---to night’s different gilding, Artifice both, for both come from my hands; what drapes

The dark of damfool night in a slightest glow of visibility Rides on the backs of particles of light later, depending on That ignorant steed, to paint the morning reality instead.

                 The radical unsheathed by Dawn, realizes nothing of this wilderness of symbols, but Sees clouds where they should be, and as is normal, he

Battles certain pained thoughts that, weakened by Sleep, had almost made a night of his day, this day.

A weal reddens at the rejection Of moon in its final places, somewhere In the moon, as it turns inward, a touchy thing:              Its ardor to oppress

The dawn is like a perspective once asleep, then made alive to Meet the challenge of the old inevitability that will compromise it,

Settling the pitch of night’s end finally upon the cities’ Grace as much upon the valley, and all of this, a slow contumely

Unto that moon, a passive, suffocating greyness to its Light, leaking away into usurping horizon: the radical Takes a walk: I am filled with a madness to confess

What he might have gotten away with never affirming, If he just only lived the lie, that he was born, not made. The

         Sketchy, yellow light to heat the frost on grass                  To runoff watering lower berths, lower hills. Tell me his

                          Reality, o nature, or my nature.              A whisper of wind got blown like a charge. Some

Cold glaucoma at first was deadly lush in my wandering radical      Who saw this night in him the horse to back.                                        As opposed to that Which took its place, and does, whether I create Or not; having no alternative.

The sun broke out across the nothing new like an Omen by the reins. In blowing hymns of rays---

There were pink yellows, majesties of common, virilest Red into vermilion---the caroled heralding of the sun

Got at him, cornered all the frames Of him, being so enhanced at soul By the drooping weight of bell-flowers Among other garden vesture finally Mid garofani and rosa venturing

Curled thorns up to meet the oxidation of self’s throne, He sitting like the sun at the tips of his head, fighting to Be as massive as the sun, thinking in steps, inconclusive Frames that want the very flat face of meridian their

Home.---Disinterested, apart, I the sterilest painter Could only hope his interest tell the story enough, As if, being a mirror in dark, all that is here is what

Is here. If the sky were conscious of reactions to itself, But not the source of that, the origin of its own self- -Most metaphysical; and wearying of no obligated Approbation/dismay towards a lot of unfelt reality          As tunes this poem here,---then, my

Light might could speak in a spark Or charge through the yew trees, back At him, and make him live, more than

One thousand Frankensteins, for the big, Blue bushes---or what light through staid

Clouds: by the time of this frame the day was obviously day, and Yet the radical sought some communicant or symbol for this, Searching for certainty about all the selfhood, anything

As might state its line of reasoning to him, As if I owed him my logic! I told him life

Only existed so he might put himself at stake, Risk to regard the brittle branches of the little Trees as a heft equivalent to the heft of his

        Reality, which I painted from scratch; one tree, one instance Of a tree in the particular, all that was needed.

So it seemed, I was the sun, or wasn’t, Or was the wisdom of the sun.

     I saw time’s rambles. I took a walk this time. I switched him out; I switched

This mind of mine to strange frames Of the radical’s within, and moved That microcosm to another crown, Throne, another chord for him to Feel real in hearing: for the royal Equipage to harp out and just for

Time, for time's dreadfulness in being, bearing out- -Portals into fiction I spot there in the air I desperately breathe.

      This was harder than one could                   Think to do. That is, to grab this thing I made

As if I could also be it, know the battle of the sun And moon my own, yet something different From that too. To grab-

                               -All of time’s incessant religion, always multiplying             Into further depths, barely there. You’d have to do it,

Grab it differently, grab different: yes: each and Every second, make and be a different body for The frame. You'd have to dismiss the servile

Shadow of fawning publicans that follow you around, Saying about how you are so great, bickering about when Which second out of all the seconds should grab you,

That is, me, on my infinite coattails, and kill me off, while moves All long time along, isolating being from the sun, the moon from

Being; nay any heralding of light’s Meridian pathway across land and sea,

A suggestive throne but not for any sycophant. There is A need of mine, that is, to separate the hope to go on, Debased by now, from the rule of the frames Over this sucking choir.

A comfort: confusion and pure spectacle proceed with Chromatism, charisma---the pure hoot, pure hail of the

Commodious reaching of time, and light, and light unfolding; Telling, heralding itself as pleasance, eden of edens. But The radical is never there. Nor am I, however the balance Might go. All that could survive once the both of us fossilize into The symbols, forms, ratiocinations, metaphors that built us, he And I, we realize, become with the gradualness of nightfall A brute spectacle of all these different frames,

And I the painter, I am one who moved my heart of the sun From its nestled tomb in some headachey beyond beyond

The trees squared in the hills. The hills like lonely Wizards’ hats that loom, and not one bright finality

. . . . . . .

in the bunch of 'em. This bunch of cosmic minutes out of time and made of a time that differs from these my, your dripping frames. In FRANCE, the existentialists,

absurdists and surrealists would think of what I’ve made so far as so much beauty, malformed by a- -damned spectacle: of technicolor light: yes: through

famished trees. And yet, how may I take one frame, and call that my religion: is such a thing not the

same if chosen from any frames’ minutes, droll and fabulous microcosms shooting like full rays of sun, and

the sun, the ultimate, the viol, singing sadness out of tune, to show absurd beauty in a sleep? I- -took a walk. It is impossible to escape the sad

strains of this gay blowing, an impossible poise, a- -hymn, a waltz of chromatic diligence regarding this the span, the catalogue of minutes’ colored light in

a day as wide as wanderers in spaces. Cursed, this demeanor of the sun goes off into cacophony. In the sewn sky. Bowels, led from an open maw

of time, down. The radical shakes his locks at this nice, religious consistency of frames. Again, are not the followers of time, like is the radical, not more than time’s followed rules incarnate?

One can’t, or won’t, babble out a frame of multiples, and call it questing for the walk he took that morning I had made him to take.

But did I keep my reverie intact: is it          spastic as surreal rays through this moment of a-

-tree, or many trees, this dallied instance: what choral agony is there to follow, after followers and radicals give up with rhetoric:

questions are not questions; no more were drips of time the frames of time. No more were suns the last

of a truth; a kindness. There’s millions of suns left. There's millions of ways the way I walk will leave the blowing sun the blowing wind---or tiding---of

                               immaculate change. I took a walk because I was the radical, the radical was I, a changeling, feeling

out for the code for a being in the sun and in the                                                     moon. For all these sad strains

of waltz broke through religion, time’s religion, which, after all, is the only religion. To what else

are we forced to adhere, day in, day out: and- -how is it there’s no God for this hymn of the beholder: is he beholding gold sides, green sides,

pink yellows? Absurdity is deep running. It is my rebellion; the rebellion of a- -wanderer wandering, having no alternative.

To sum up, to instate, clip the infinite to ends, that is my mission. It is to round out the brittle, brittle branches of the tree---make the tree

a part of the sun, and walk, with rays blowing in my face. Dis-organize the senses; break the new wood. For something in the heart of time's- -quite idiomatic, allusive, seeming done before, and yet no further notion of the hymn is taken,

elaborated out of dull surprise. Out of dreamt, dreamy frames of blithe light in a quiet fury. In a ghost, a moving ghost of meaning. God’s ticking

clock. So what is it I'm always speaking of: I do not know, and it makes me anxious to move on from whatever it was that rose, having no

alternative.

Someone subjected me to it, so I'll return the favor. Do them all, yes?

*horrible but joyous raptor noise*

200: My crush’s name is: The pineapple one.199: I was born in: 1997198: I am really: Confused about things and such.197: My cellphone company is: AT&T and they kind of suck but not too much.196: My eye color is: Usually a bluish-gray, more gray in the winter and more greenish in the spring. Not vividly, still mostly gray.195: My shoe size is: 12.194: My ring size is: I think I have an Ace Ring in 13? So that, I guess.193: My height is: 6′0″-ish.192: I am allergic to: A hecking lot of types of medication.191: My 1st car was: A Hyundai that had it brakes rot out, the lower control arms snapped, and now it doesn’t have power steering. I just got my second car 2 months ago.190: My 1st job was: Alright.189: Last book you read: Legends of Localization: MOTHER 2. Super awesome.188: My bed is: A bed!187: My pet: Icha, a retired police dog. 186: My best friend: Dan. I have not talked to so many of my other friends in so long, I need to get better at that.185: My favorite shampoo is: I dunno, the stuff I use? I don’t study the bottle.184: Xbox or ps3: Wii U, to be completely honest. Hopefully the Switch is awesome.183: Piggy banks are: A typo based on a type of coin bank made of a certain type of clay.182: In my pockets: Actually nothing right now.181: On my calendar: I have class in Chicago tomorrow. :\180: Marriage is: Not something I plan to do.179: Spongebob can: Please get canned already? Fairly Oddparents, too. Actually, that one first.178: My mom: Is a mom.177: The last three songs I bought were? Two songs from the Diablo Swing Orchestra (probably the coolest hecking band ever) preceeded by Ballroom Blitz.176: Last YouTube video watched: A bunch of trash TF2 joke weapon demonstrations.175: How many cousins do you have? I dunno, like three or four immediate cousins?174: Do you have any siblings? An older and a younger brother.173: Are your parents divorced? No.172: Are you taller than your mom? Yes.171: Do you play an instrument? Nope.170: What did you do yesterday? My best.[ I Believe In ]169: Love at first sight: Nope.168: Luck: I got all the bad stuff.167: Fate: If y’had a chance t’chainge yer faet, wood yeh?166: Yourself: What a funny story, Mark!165: Aliens: I mean, somewhere out there. They’re probably, like, bacteria, but I mean whatever.164: Heaven: I like to imagine the afterlife is one giant void where you just wait to come back and you get to see all your past and future lives but forget everything immediately upon being resurrected as a new human.163: Hell: See immediately above.162: God: If you do, that’s cool. 161: Horoscopes: Read six of them. Chances are, more than one fits you well.160: Soul mates: Nope.159: Ghosts: Nope.158: Gay Marriage: I mean, do whatever. If its not immoral and illegal and everyone involved is okay with it, then cool.157: War: It never changes, but I kinda wish it would. Why is it this hard for people to support each other. 156: Orbs: They don’t exist because nobody has ever seen a perfect sphere in real life before.155: Magic: There are people who claim this is real?[ This or That ]154: Hugs or Kisses: I dunno?153: Drunk or High: Having a height advantage to your opponents makes it that much harder for them to seek adequate cover and that much easier to defeat them.152: Phone or Online: I hate the call quality in the US.151: Red heads or Black haired: You don’t see that many actual natural gingers out there.150: Blondes or Brunettes: I mean, I’m blond, so there’s some bias.149: Hot or cold: The cold. LA would kill me.148: Summer or winter: Specifically the first month of the winter. Past that its gray and sludgy and horrible.147: Autumn or Spring: Spring.146: Chocolate or vanilla: Chocolate.145: Night or Day: The nighttime makes everything feel forbidden. I shouldn’t be out this late, I shouldn’t be doing this this late, etc.144: Oranges or Apples: Oranges. Citrus is awesome.143: Curly or Straight hair: I dunno.142: McDonalds or Burger King: Burger King has the better chicken nuggets, but both aren’t that great. In this town, its Culvers, Portillo’s, or you eat the DIRT you find in the GROUND.141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: Like a 60% dark chocolate. 70% tastes great at first but the aftertaste is horrible, afraid to go darker than that. Heard 100% is the worst.140: Mac or PC: PC, since I make games using software that runs on 139: Flip flops or high heals: Mages with a high heal yield are always welcome in the party.138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: I’ve kind of had it with the rich at this point.137: Coke or Pepsi: Regular coke but Cherry Pepsi. Crystal Pepsi is also back but my life was ruined when I found out its just regular Pepsi with no coloring.136: Hillary or Obama: I would gladly take either of them right now. Barack seems like he’d be a dad friend.135: Burried or cremated: I want to be burned to ashes and thrown from the mountains.134: Singing or Dancing: I dunno.133: Coach or Chanel: Coach was a playable character in L4D2 and thus is infinitely more useful.132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: Who the frack are these people.131: Small town or Big city: I’ve kind of had it with the city.130: Wal-Mart or Target: Target. Or, for white people with minimal senses of humor, Targét (Tar-zhey).129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: Stiller is meh but never reaches Sandler levels of awful.128: Manicure or Pedicure: [SOUNDS OF LITTLE INTEREST]127: East Coast or West Coast: The East Coast has HP Lovecraft’s home.126: Your Birthday or Christmas: Both seem to end in familial drama.125: Chocolate or Flowers: Chocolate is dang wonderful. Can’t take a handful, eat the tulips. Y’just cahn’t do theat.124: Disney or Six Flags: Six whole flags. Great America has the Viper and its the closest you will ever get to a life-changing moment. 123: Yankees or Red Sox: I am indifferent towards New York or Boston, doubly so concerning Baseball.[ Here’s What I Think About ]122: War: Like, really guys, talk out your differences and treat people with respect. Its not that hard.121: George Bush: He would have made a brilliant painter or a decent comedian, but for some reason he ended up as president. But now he’s paining portraits of veterans wounded in the wars he started, so there’s that.120: Gay Marriage: Of course.119: The presidential election: 2016 was a terrible year, can we just fast forward to an election where two decent, respectable human beings are being voted for on election day.118: Abortion: Every woman has their reason, and its not the right of men to get to decide what happens.117: MySpace: ‘sead.116: Reality TV: Ech.115: Parents: Its a toxic environment.114: Back stabbers: I get you want that double critical hit, but please don’t stab me. I just want to grab the papers. End TF2 joke.113: Ebay: I dunno?112: Facebook: I had a video of a chick being forced down a grinder suddenly load and go full screen the last time I used the app. Yeah no.111: Work: Cash money.110: My Neighbors: My next door neighbors are absolutely wonderful people. The people past there are pretty bleh.109: Gas Prices:  They’ve been higher, they’ve been lower.108: Designer Clothes: Heck.107: College: I have the presidential scholarship and have taken the maximum out on all possible loans and I cannot afford to live on-campus.106: Sports: Nah.105: My family: I am always feeling much better and more comfortable when spending time at a friend’s house than my own house.104: The future: Kinda losing hope, kinda just wish I had the skills to make great games quick and then just live in peace somewhere nice, kinda want to get struck with construction equipment, etc.[ Last time I ]103: Hugged someone: I couldn’t tell you, its been, I dunno, a decade or so?102: Last time you ate: 11:something today.101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: Spent some time at a friend’s place Friday. Haven’t gotten to speak with them in such a long time, felt nice.100: Cried in front of someone: I dunno?99: Went to a movie theater: The last film I saw in theaters was Godzilla and I lost interest when Walter White died.98: Took a vacation: Absolutely never! I was in Florida for a few weeks a few years ago (2013, I think?), but it barely counts because half of it was rainy days, Minecraft, and Nostalgia Critic.97: Swam in a pool: Couple years ago?96: Changed a diaper: If this answer becomes anything but never I will have seen too much.95: Got my nails done: Never.94: Went to a wedding: Never.93: Broke a bone: Pretty sure never?92: Got a peircing: Never.91: Broke the law: I once forgot to stop at a stop sign nobody else was at. Take me away, coppers, throw me in the slammer.90: Texted: I think Friday night?[ MISC ]89: Who makes you laugh the most: Dan.88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: Not having anywhere to be. 87: The last movie I saw: I watched The Adventures of Tintin for like the 9th time. I wonder how that film stands up in black/white. I heard really good stuff about Mad Max: Fury Road in B/W.86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: Switch Switch Switch SwiTCH SWITCH SW85: The thing im not looking forward to: The hatred spiraling around the 45th President. Actual Nazis spoke of their goals and were praised on national TV. One of them got punched and is afraid he will become a meme. What the heck is going on. How much Nyquil did I accidentally drink. Is this a dying dream. Please let it be.84: People call me: Really needy and obnoxious. Or that might just be me.83: The most difficult thing to do is: Have one good day. Friday was the first one since probably October.82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: Nope, but I did get one because my brakes went out and I hit the bumper of the car in front of me. 81: My zodiac sign is: Gemini, but it really doesn’t make a difference.80: The first person i talked to today was: Dan.79: First time you had a crush: Quite a while ago. It was the orange one and it was alright. Pineapple is the better flavor though.78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: Dan.77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: I dunno.76: Right now I am talking to: A Tumblr text post.75: What are you going to do when you grow up: Design dem vidya gaems. 74: I have/will get a job: I have a job? Its my second one, been there 3 months.73: Tomorrow: I’LL72: Today: Is almost over.71: Next Summer: I’ll be out of school until September again?70: Next Weekend: Will be practically the end of the month? What am I supposed to put do--69: I have these pets: I have one (1) dog.68: The worst sound in the world: I have been woken at 2 in the morning by someone loudly blaring “Now look at this NET!” at me as a joke. 67: The person that makes me cry the most is: I dunno, Speilberg? Because he won’t make thAT TINTIN SEQUEL--66: People that make you happy: Dan and the other ragtag band of friends I have.65: Last time I cried: Like ~a week ago?64: My friends are: @eishkrooked​ @virtifrication-order​ @ahogehope​ and my non-Tungle friends Steve, Byron, Haley and Sam.63: My computer is: More expensive than my first car.62: My School: Costs far too much.61: My Car: Is alright.60: I lose all respect for people who: Justify killing or dehumanizing a lot of people quickly.59: The movie I cried at was: Wreck-It Ralph. Because I am a loser.58: Your hair color is: Blond.57: TV shows you watch: Actually between stuff because everything is over or on hiatus.56: Favorite web site: Steam, I guess?55: Your dream vacation: As many of my friends as possible and we all go to somewhere rad, I dunno where though.54: The worst pain I was ever in was: I once had a coughing fit at 1AM that caused me to spit up some blood and it hurt so bad I collapsed on the floor and cried myself back to sleep. But Death’s gonna have to bare-knuckle box me for my life, he tried to kill me with life-threatening pneumonia twice and that did bugger all. Come at me scrublord, I’m ripped.53: How do you like your steak cooked: Medium-well.52: My room is: Barely my room.51: My favorite celebrity is: JK Simmons.50: Where would you like to be: Somewhere nice.49: Do you want children: Not really, no. Maybe adopt some? I dunno.48: Ever been in love: Nope.47: Who’s your best friend: This is like the third time this question has appeared.46: More guy friends or girl friends: More good friends.45: One thing that makes you feel great is: Ever get to steal, like, all the stars in a Chance Time? That power changes you.44: One person that you wish you could see right now: I want to know how Haley is doing. She moved off to Minnesota after graduating high school and has not been online in like have a year. 43: Do you have a 5 year plan: I barely have a five-day plan.42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: I could die at any minute, lists just leave “I could have___”s everywhere.41: Have you pre-named your children: Nope.40: Last person I got mad at: It took Arin 4 hours to make it to the end of Paper Mario: Thousand Year Door’s first major boss. FOUR HOURS.39: I would like to move to: A nice flat somewhere just outside Chicago.38: I wish I was a professional: Game dev because then, again, good things made quick.[ My Favorites ]37: Candy: York Peppermint Patties, also a fan of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.36: Vehicle: Can Tesla just do a cheap electric car already? 35: President: Obama is definitely top of the list. Amazing public speaker, total dad.34: State visited: Illinois.33: Cellphone provider: If only Metronet could do phones.32: Athlete: JK Simmons got ripped, I can include him.31: Actor: See above!30: Actress: Ashly Burch (Ms. Pauling in TF2). 29: Singer: Lynda Carter became a freaking phenominal jazz singer between the 70s and Fallout 4. Probably the best part about that game.28: Band: Diablo Swing Orchestra, hands down.27: Clothing store: The cheapest one I can get good-quality stuff at.26: Grocery store: Jewel? I dunno, don’t hassle me.25: TV show: Gravity Falls deserves all the awards.24: Movie: This might come as a surprise, but the Adventu23: Website: Steam? I dunno.22: Animal: Samoyeds and Malamutes. Japanese Akitas come in third.21: Theme park: Six Flags is pretty rad. 20: Holiday: According to the store I work at, Italian Market is a holiday and now its my favorite holiday.19: Sport to watch: Not a sportwatcher.18: Sport to play: Used to spar. That was rad.17: Magazine: Rest in peace, Nintendo Power.16: Book: Journal 3 is such a fabulous blend of so many good things.15: Day of the week: Monday, actually. I don’t need to commute, my brothers are out of the house, I can record or work on personal projects, etc.14: Beach: Not a fan of beaches.13: Concert attended: Have not attended any live whatsits.12: Thing to cook: Pasta. And then I have it all. Because its pasta.11: Food: Read above.10: Restaurant: It depends. Subway is cheap, Corner Bakery Cafe is right inside Union Station and their Mac and Chee is awesome, but if money is no object, then I’d go for Olive Garden because “endless pasta” are two words that get slung around in there.9: Radio station: I hate the FM radio.8: Yankee candle scent: Fresh-cut lawn.7: Perfume: Nah.6: Flower: I don’t have an answer.5: Color: One of those deep, vivid blues. Something like Tumblr’s but with some more saturation.4: Talk show host: Nah.3: Comedian: SungWon Cho or Barry Kramer.2: Dog breed: 22 has all the answers you need.1: Did you answer all these truthfully?  I could be a jerk and say I answered one of these incorrectly, but nah, they’re legit. Or are they? They are. Or are they?

Thanks!