#marbled pattern

[aciakatura]

Easy marbled pattern tutorial (which is actually just a technique I made up after playing around with random tools).

I use IbisPaint so some tools might be different for your program.

Start with drawing some lines in different colours. They don't need to be perfectly even, actually a bit of randomness is better - I used a watercolour brush here. Use colours from a palette if you're not sure what colours fit well together.

Apply some distortions/transformations. Use as many as you like to get the effect you want. I used a twirl and then a wave.

The wave creates white spaces, so I needed to zoom in to get rid of them.

If you aren't happy with any part of the picture, you can manually paint over it at this point. I used the smudge tool so that it's not so pronounced where I edited it.

Yay! Congrats! Pretty paint swirls achieved!

[juniperandjustice]

Coffee colors bouquet pattern marbled scarf

[nemfrog]

Endpaper. 1702.

Internet Archive

From a book uploaded by lolliffe

[sp00kywashere]

Image it’s based on: (By @/hogtheark on Twitter! :3)

[magistralucis]

Bourbon biscuits and tea, guv'nor

(The teacup space marine is finished! 💖)

[phosphorus-noodles]

EVERYONE !!! look at my new child :3

[packs-pngs]

Uh

Round pngs?

[renato-crepaldi]

Ultramarine blue and metallic blue coagulate marbled paper. Marbled with black, metallic white, gold, ultramarine tone coagulate and metallic blue coagulate, with white and light blue gradient . Only 10 sheets available! Signed and dated. Base paper is cream, 80 gsm, long grain. Sheet size is 66 x 94 cm (26" x 37"). https://renatocrepaldi.bigcartel.com/ The release date of this new collection is next Friday, May 16th. Shop opens at 12 UTC! Link to shop in bio! Worldwide shipping!

[stampsthemeow]

KANDI PATTERNS !!!!!

Misc Ties aswells

[uwmspeccoll]

Marbled Monday

This week's book contains a veritable smorgasbord of marbling! This is Harvesting Color: The Year in a Marbler's Workshop by British marbling master Ann Muir (1939-2008). Published by Incline Press in 1999 in an edition of 250 copies, the book contains a third of a sheet of 12 marbled paper designs, each representing a month of the year. All of the paper, including that for the cover (which matches the month of April), was marbled by Muir. The sketches of cats are also by Muir.

The patterns included in the book are each meant to evoke elements of the their corresponding months. They are shown in order here except for April, which is shown here on the cover of the book. There is a wide variety in the patterns—some are combed patterns while others are swirled with a stylus. Some are Turkish while others are Spanish moiré. The examples demonstrate the breadth of possibility in marbling and Muir's own mastery of the art.

View more Marbled Monday posts here.

-- Alice, Special Collections Department Manager

[catfindr]

[daily-public-domain]

Day 252: Tiger eye pattern marbling

link

–This image is part of the public domain, meaning you can do anything you want with it! (you could even sell it as a shirt, poster or whatever, no need to credit it!)–

[alabasterwasps]

original art post

i said there was a pattern

[nemfrog]

Green and red pattern. Recherches sur les fièvres. 1821. Marbled book cover.

Internet Archive

[katelikescookies]

Dixon Beach, NSW, Australia

[kastalani123]

Consider:

Leo Valdez was not born. Instead, two pairs of hands form him from bronze and steel and gold. His hair is copper wires so thin they bounce like natural curls, and his eyes glimmer with silver flakes. The joints of his body are plated so delicately, so perfectly, the segments are near indiscernible, smoothly gliding over each other. Faint traces of fingerprints and flecks of impurity are deliberately left behind for their uniqueness, a form of impossible signature of his creators.

Most importantly, gilded bars curl around each other in his chest, protecting the red-red-red flame that pushes his eyes open everyday, that beats in tune with his thoughts, that heats his body to expand and grow.

A metal child is not so different from a human one, and yet is so far from it at the same time. He is curious, about the world, about himself, and he picks apart toys and TV remotes and his arms, spilling their secrets before his constantly shifting eyes. He does not cry from fatigue or thirst or hunger, but a bump, a dent, a scratch never fail to draw tears. He splashes in the rain and snow, carefully bundled in waterproof coats and jackets, and runs from baths like he's possessed, fire flickering in fear.

The first time he meets someone like him, an endeavour he had long thought hopeless, it is a malfunctioning dragon others call for the death of; he is too unpredictable, too dangerous, too broken. Leo looks him in ever-shifting eyes glimmering with silver and sees himself if the cage in his chest ever bends, cracks, shatters, if the gears beneath his skin ever jam and stick and wear down irreversibly.

It is not golden flowers and godly aid that preserve him; just as he'd done for his twin-in-all-but-appearance, he creates a new body, with new fingerprints and impurities mapping his design. His hair is more bronze than copper, now, and his eyes more gold than brass. The plates of his joints scrape against each other faintly, and the gears of his bones grind together uncomfortably — he only had so much time, so much material to use, he could not polish every element of himself in the way he wished, but it holds together.

Most importantly, he reinforces the cage in his chest, coats it in layers upon layers of metal, to ensure his flame will not go out in the explosion, that Festus will be able to salvage it and lay it gently in the chest cavity carefully carved in his new body, bringing it to life.

He returns to Camp, movements more clunky and mechanical than should be, and his siblings finally pin down his segmented limbs, his shifting eyes, his clicking fidgeting. They are ecstatic, just as fascinated with him as they had been with Festus, and he lets them. He lets them take him apart, piece by piece, clean out the sand of Ogygia from his organs, polish and oil his gears until they glide against each other, press new fingerprints, new signatures of belonging, against his skin.

Most importantly, they craft him a secure, intricate cage, with golden flames licking up the bars, with delicate chains shielding it from the elements, and his flame settles inside it, flickering happily, finally truly, truly comfortable in the cage of his body.

Leo Valdez may not have been born, but he was crafted with the most loving hands imaginable, and is that not so much better, for a son of the Craftsman?