#Compression Algorithm

[under-the-pondering-tree]

ChatGPT is just an extremely lossy compression algorithm- if you think about it sideways. And was just intentionally designed to have a very humanized search function. So much so that it can convey the original intent of the information, but never the original state or structure that information was in. (unless it's information that can *only* be conveyed in its original state- like a mathematical formula. but even then, the description and explanation won't be.) Sort of analogous to giving it a bunch of lists of the same numbers ordered in a different way each time. It can give you a list of the same numbers back in a random order, but can't retrieve and output one of the given sets unless it just outputs the same random string by chance.

[captaingimpy]

The Hilarious Reality of Tech Startups: Silicon Valley Review

Initial Thoughts:“Silicon Valley,” created by Mike Judge, John Altschuler, and Dave Krinsky, offers a satirical glimpse into the high-stakes, often absurd world of tech startups in the eponymous region. Running from 2014 to 2019, the series follows Richard Hendricks and his team as they navigate the treacherous waters of entrepreneurship while developing their revolutionary compression algorithm…

[zorangezest]

in honour of it being around my tumblr anniversary i have to say this site was the last place i thought i would be posting to consistently but. ive grown to love it a lot i would fight for this app like it were my country

[seiwas]

gojo in a compression shirt… save me… someone save me…

[notlikeothergirlz]

pictures i used to explain "coquette aesthetic" to my older sister

[manjaro-official]

Bluetooth earbuds have convinced the public that 'lossless audio' is somehow expensive tech for true audiophiles when literally if you listen to a CD player with wired headphones you're getting lossless audio

[balletthebestphotographs]

Natalia Osipova Наталья Осипова

Natalia Osipova Наталья Осипова as “Laurencia”, “Laurencia Лауренсия”, choreo by Vakhtang Chabukiani revised by Mikhail Messerer Михаил Мессерер, costume by Vyacheslav Okunev Вячеслав Окунев, music by Aleksandr Krein Александр Крейн. Based on the play “Fuente Ovejuna” (1619, Madrid, Spain) by Félix Lope de Vega y Carpio, Mikhailovsky Ballet Михайловский театр, Saint Petersburg, Russia.

Source and more info at: Photographer Stas Levshin on Facebook Photographer Stas Levshin on Instagram

Note I: This blog is open to receiving and considering any suggestions, contributions, and/or criticisms that may help correct mistakes or improve its content. Comments are available to any visitor.

Note II: Original quality of photographs might be affected by compression algorithm of the website where they are hosted.

[prokopetz]

Don't forget that you specifically want the unlocalised Japanese ROM so that you can apply a fan-made English translation patch published in 1998 by a guy with a dick joke for a screen handle because the official localisation was delayed for 20 years due to licensing issues and totally butchers the script by removing all the late 1990s pop culture references.

whenever you ask your friend who’s really into JRPGs “hey which one do i start with is the newest one fine” they always go “no, what you gotta do is head on over to ebay and look up the entry that completely bombed commercially. You’ll see that it goes for $800. Close ebay. Download an emulator for a console no younger than 17 years old. Download the ROM, and also this laundry list of various tweaks, retextures, and QoL tweaks. Pull up this exact spoiler-free guide put up a decade ago from GameFAQs, and you’ll experience the best game this series has to offer.” Like???

[lifewithaview]

Silicon Valley (2014) Minimum Viable Product

S1E1

A computer programmer, Richard, develops a computer algorithm that compresses files like no other. Richard lives in a house full with programmers and works for a computer company called Hooli. When Richard shows his idea off, Gavin Belson, head of Hooli, offers him 10 million. While another billionaire offers him 200,000 for 5% of his company. Richard has to figure out whether he wants to sell his company right off, or stay with it and use the funding from Peter Gregory.

*The end music used is Minimum by Green Day.

[fratttymatty]

The Algorithm's Curse

(All characters are 18+)

Eliot Farrow sat in the farthest corner of the school library, hunched over a battered copy of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. The world around him didn’t exist—just the words on the page, the scent of aging paper, the quiet hum of fluorescent lights above. He adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses and pulled his oversized cardigan tighter around himself.

He had no patience for stupidity. And high school? High school was nothing but stupidity.

Loud voices shattered the peace.

"Bro, that new TikTok trend? Fire."

"Dude, that transition? Insane."

Eliot barely held back a groan. The table across the room was occupied by the worst kind of people—athletic, vain, TikTok-obsessed jocks. They spoke in half-sentences, grunted like cavemen, and used words like "rizz".

His best (and only) friend, Jasper, leaned in, whispering, “Imagine you on TikTok.”

Eliot snorted. “I’d rather be lobotomized.”

But later that night, lying in bed, he hesitated.

Just one peek. Just to confirm how dumb it was.

He downloaded TikTok.

And that was the last mistake Eliot Farrow ever made.

At first, it wasn’t so bad. His For You Page had political debates, book reviews, history facts—exactly what he expected. But then, an odd video appeared.

"Tired of being a nobody? Want to be HOT? Watch this every day."

The guy in the video was everything Eliot despised—tan, muscular, shirtless, flexing in a mirror while electronic bass thumped in the background.

Cringe.

He scrolled past.

But another appeared. Then another. And another.

"Stop scrolling, bro. This is the mindset shift you need."

"If you’re not at the gym, what are you even doing with your life?"

"Upgrade your look, upgrade your life. Trust the algorithm."

A strange sensation crept up his spine. His phone screen glowed, the TikTok symbol pulsing like a heartbeat. His vision blurred, the world warping around him.

His skin burned. His bones ached. His sweater suddenly felt suffocating.

Something was changing.

He looked down. His sleeves had vanished. In their place, a sleeveless compression shirt clung to his body, showing off—wait—his biceps? His fingers twitched. They were different. Tanned, veins visible, nails trimmed to perfection.

He stumbled to the mirror.

A stranger stared back.

Gone were the glasses, the soft curls, the pale complexion. In their place: tousled brown hair, styled in effortless, boyish waves—the kind that made girls comment "OMG ur literally perfect 😩." His once-slender frame was now toned, shoulders broader, jawline sharp enough to slice.

His lips moved on their own. "Bro, what the hell?"

Wait. His voice.

It was deeper. Smoother. Confident.

His phone vibrated.

"Yo, Axton. Where u at? Party’s lit, bro."

Axton?

His fingers moved before his brain could catch up. "Bet, bro. Omw."

The house party was packed. Music thumped, neon lights flickered, bodies swayed in sync.

Axton—because that’s who he was now—stepped inside. And people noticed.

Jocks threw up handshakes. Girls stared, whispering. His body knew what to do. His posture? Perfect. His smirk? Effortless. His TikTok-clout brain pre-loaded with the right phrases.

"Ayy, my guy!" Some dude clapped him on the back. "Bro, your last thirst trap? Wild engagement, man."

Axton laughed, though he barely remembered posting it. His memories were… fuzzy. Books? Gone. Political debates? Who cared? He didn't need intelligence. He had hype.

Then, he saw her.

The perfect girl.

Long blonde hair. Perfect tan. A crop top that read “Brat Energy”. Glossy lips, manicured nails, and a vacant but stunning expression.

She gasped, bouncing on her toes. "Axton, oh my God!"

His arms were around her before he could think.

She giggled, twirling her hair. "We are, like, literally couple goals."

Somewhere deep inside him, a voice whispered. This isn’t you. You’re Eliot. You love books. You—

The thought vanished as she pressed closer.

Because Axton was hot.

And when you're hot, nothing else matters.

In fact, if Axton ever got into controversy, people wouldn’t care.

"idc what he did he’s literally so fine 😍"

And honestly? Same.

[smallmariofindings]

The Nintendo Switch's internal gameplay recording function uses MPEG compression to keep the size of the 30 second buffer of most recent gameplay below a certain threshold necessary for the data to fit into the system's memory.

The extent to which the algorithm is willing to reduce the quality when too much detail is on screen can be seen particularly well in the crowd scenes of the Switch version of Paper Mario: The Thousand-Year Door.

Above is a frame of gameplay recorded of the scene where the Gold Fuzzy boss summons the Fuzzy Horde. As that scene features hundreds of moving objects that would necessitate the buffer to be unreasonably large if it kept every frame at it highest quality, the quality is instead reduced tremendously. Please zoom in and note the very large MPEG artifacts on all surfaces and the overall blurriness of the image.

Main Blog | Twitter | Patreon | Small Findings | Source: PM:TTYD (Switch)

[canmom]

my favourite metaphors tend to be physical/computer science ones: the feedback loop, the dynamical system, the state space, the instability, the self-organising structure, the mapping from x-space to y-space, the nth-order approximation, the evolving population, the compression algorithm, the cellular automaton, the fractal structure, the soliton, entropy. as far back as 2018 i was conceiving of gender transition's relation to society as akin to bubbles in a fluid.

i like to spice it with some more occult stuff now and again, the egregore in particular (used in preference to similar, more atomic concepts like 'meme' or 'semiotic sign' or 'stand alone complex' mostly because i like the vibe) - but that's a flavour of occultism that suits this habit of thought, isn't it? a notional abstract entity that emerges from the dynamics of a complex system, such as multiple minds? i view magic mostly in this light: a human tool for apprehending the large scale behaviour of humans. as such my go-to examples of egregores are things like 'countries' or 'organisations' or even 'gender'.

anyway i don't think this is a bad way to look at the world, i think it often leads to interesting left field approaches to subjects, but just because i invoke all these sciencey concepts does not actually entail any rigour. I'm operating on the level of analogy and i don't want to pretend otherwise. i try to be careful to keep the technical definition in mind, but it's not like I'm writing differential equations down, or even that you could in a lot of cases... and i tend to dislike the rhetorical invocation of mathematical concepts when other people do it, i am kind of a hypocrite lol

[jennamoran]

25 years later and I'm still angry about going to a CS conference focusing on digital libraries and having to hear a talk about someone's exciting new compression algorithm that worked by running two different publicly-accessible compression programs and keeping whichever result was smaller.

[thealternateuniverse]

A Misunderstanding

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

-------

Y/N shut out the world by putting her headphones on, music blaring, as she walked towards the cafeteria with good spirits. Her weekend had been well spent after decluttering her apartment. Her dad had left her a message last night, informing her that he would be out of town but would return before their match against Iowa.

For some reason, she couldn't stop thinking about the Paranoia game from last time and how Paige had just revealed she was into Hannah Jump. Hannah was her teammate back in Stanford, and Y/N admitted, aside from being talented on the court, she was good in academics and... really pretty. It was itching her to know if Paige would pursue Hannah or not; after all, she had just admitted she liked her. Paige might appear as the fuckboy type among their lot but she might be the most decent one when it comes to relationship. She never pursued anyone ,yet, probably some flirtations but never to the point of dating. Her world seems to revolve only in basketball. Regardless, it is not her business.

She opened TikTok last night, only to be blasted by Paige Bueckers edits in her feed. The algorithm must have been playing some kind of joke on her, she thought, feeling a mix of amusement and irritation at the coincidence.

Shrugging off the thought, Y/N lazily slipped her hands into her hoodie's pocket and ambled towards her destination. Her train of thoughts got cut off when she almost stumbled, feeling a weight on her back that nearly sent her crashing to the ground.

"The fuck b— What the hell Paige Bueckers!"

Y/N exclaimed, cursing every inch of Paige's being as she struggled to regain her balance while supporting Paige's weight.

Paige, seemingly unfazed by the near disaster she caused, had the audacity to laugh.

"You nearly broke my back, Paige! I could've broken your face too!"

Y/N protested for the last time, yet still allowed Paige to remain on her back.

"Damn right, you're heavy," Y/N grunted under Paige's weight. It seemed she had no intention of getting off anytime soon. Despite being almost the same height, Paige had bulked up since her ACL recovery.

"Suck it up, Miller. Don't be a loser," Paige encouraged, oblivious to Y/N's struggle.

"Yeah, and you'll be the loser if I drop you here." she bit back a response.

By the time they reached the cafeteria, Y/N was already sweating, carrying Paige acting as a warm-up.

She hadn't actually seen Paige face-to-face yet, so when she dropped her off, she almost stuttered. Paige's hair wasn't tied up today, and she was only wearing her sleeveless compression top, which fit her perfectly, sticking it to the right places.

"Hey, Miller. I know I look good; stop ogling," Paige called out with a playful airiness, teasing Y/N as she caught her glance.

Y/N rolled her eyes, attempting to conceal her embarrassment from being caught gawking.

"No braids today?" she asked before Paige could further boost her ego.

"Kayla is out of town, so..." Paige shrugged. "You can braid it later before practice."

"Yeah, and make sure you took a shower today; I don't want some greasy hair," Y/N quipped with a playful smirk.

Paige feigned being hurt, putting both her hands on her chest in mock offense.

"You're so mean, dude. You don't know what some people are going through," Paige said, shaking her head while placing her hand on Y/N's shoulder.

"You're so dramatic. Now if you'll get out of my way please, I am hungry." Y/N retorted with a chuckle, nudging Paige playfully.

Paige stepped aside, allowing Y/N to pass, and followed after.

Y/N couldn't help but notice something different about Paige today; she seems to be perky.

"What's gotten into you today, Paige?" Y/N stopped and turned to confront Paige. The latter merely bestowed onto her a deep grin that extended to her eyes.

"Nothing, why? Is it a crime to be in a good mood?" Paige remarked, rolling her shoulders, a clear indication of her upbeat demeanor.

Y/N shook her head in disbelief but decided to let it go, opting instead to grab her breakfast.

-------

"Stay put, Paige Madison, you're gonna ruin my braids," Y/N insisted, gently placing her hand on Paige's shoulder to keep her still while she worked on her hair.

"What's taking you so long? Kayla does it quickly," Paige complained.

In truth, Y/N was deliberately taking her time. She needed to steady her hands, unsure why they were shaking. After all, she'd done this countless times before. But being so close to Paige felt different, almost unfamiliar. And Paige's hair, soft and smelling of peppermint, tempted her to linger, to breathe in the scent and savor the moment.

"There, finally done."

Taking one last satisfied look, Y/N released Paige. "There, all done," she announced proudly. This time, she'd opted for a Dutch braid, a departure from Paige's usual signature hairstyle.

"Thanks, but I'm still the best," Paige quipped with a playful grin

"Oh, really? Care to make a bet?" Y/N challenged, a mischievous glint in her eye.

---------------------

The team's lounge was unusually quiet following practice. The girls taking the opportunity to catch up on sleep after the exhausting training session.

Meanwhile, Y/N sat on the edge of her seat, nervously tapping her foot as she debated whether to open it or not. She found herself repeatedly switching it on and off, unable to make up her mind.

Cameron's message had left Y/N in a dilemma. Eventually, she rose to pack her things and switched off her phone. As she moved, she suddenly halted, blinking as the vision in her left eye began to blur. Panic welled up as she feared she might pass out. She turned around to her left, unaware of Paige, who had just emerged from the shower. Their heads collided.

"What the heck! Are you blind or something, dawg?" Paige exclaimed, rubbing the spot where they had collided.

"Oh yeah? And today I discovered just how thick your skull is," Y/N retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"But seriously, are you okay?" Paige asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Yeah, actually, I am blind. I didn't see you," Y/N admitted.

"Probably because your contact lens is off," Paige suggested, seeing the uneven eye color. Her left green and right hazel.

"Oh," Y/N replied, mentally chastising herself for forgetting her own condition.

"Here, let me help you. Stay put," Paige said as she draped her towel over a chair and gently guided Y/N's head with her hands to assist in fixing her contact lens.

"How am I supposed to know you're not going to poke m--"

"Quiet, almost done," Paige interrupted, her tone firm but reassuring.

As Paige worked, the room seemed to grow warmer. It was the second time they had been this close outside of the court, and Y/N found herself uncomfortable with her blurry vision, unable to clearly see Paige's features up close. Yet, paradoxically, she also found solace in the blurred lines, grateful that she wouldn't have to dwell on the details of their encounters today.

"There, done," Paige announced, and Y/N blinked, relieved to find her vision clear once more.

"T-thanks," Y/N stuttered, clearing her throat. Their eyes locked for a moment, but before the intensity could linger, Y/N was the first to break the contact.

"U-uh, I'll just pack my things," she mumbled, trying to ease the sudden tension.

"Y-yeah, you should," Paige replied awkwardly, her own discomfort evident in her voice.

---------

Unbelievable, Y/N let out an exasperated sigh as her car refused to start. Of all the days and weather conditions, why did it have to happen now? How was she supposed to get home in this rain?

"This is ridiculous," she muttered, leaning her head against the steering wheel. The parking lot seemed endless, and she knew she'd be soaked by the time she reached the bus stop for her commute home.

She opened her phone, fingers tapping out a message in their group chat, hoping someone was still around in their class or lingering in the parking lot who could give her a ride home.

Upon sending the message, Paige was quick to reply, mentioning she had just gotten into her car and would swing by to pick Y/N up.

It was the third time Paige had come to her rescue, and it seemed like she always appeared at just the right moment.

Paige's Camry pulled up alongside Y/N's car, and she swiftly gathered her belongings before stepping out and securing her vehicle. She dashed toward Paige's car, a brisk pace driven by both the biting cold and her aversion to getting wet.

"Thanks, Bueckers," she muttered gratefully as she settled into the passenger seat, closing the door behind her.

"Anytime, Miller. What would you do without me?" Paige quipped, exuding confidence and earning an eye roll from Y/N.

As they merged into traffic, Waka Flocka's music blared from Paige's stereo.

"I need to swing by Walmart first; I'm running low on groceries. Hope you don't mind," Paige added, breaking the rhythm of the music-filled silence.

Y/N nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I can grab some for myself as well."

The rain had somehow mellowed by the time they arrived at Walmart. The two of them dashed into the store, snagging a cart and launching into their grocery run.

Paige peered into Y/N's meticulously organized cart, filled with salad ingredients and chicken, devoid of any junk food.

"How are you even full just eating that?" Paige teased, gesturing towards Y/N's cart.

Y/N glanced over at Paige's cart, which seemed more like a haul than a grocery run, stocked with proteins, organic chips, and various meats. It was clear Paige was focused solely on food items.

"Duh. Do I look like I have time to cook?" Y/n retorted with a smirk, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Paige raised both hands in surrender. "Alright. For an athlete, you sure eat less."

Y/N, who had been chubby back in grade school due to her big bones, had made a conscious effort to monitor her weight when she got into basketball.

"I've got big bones. Plus, I was fat back in grade school. I easily gain weight, so I have to watch what I eat," Y/N explained.

Paige's curiosity piqued at the mention of Y/N's childhood appearance, but she merely mouthed an 'oh,' holding back her questions for the moment.

When they finished their grocery shopping, the two of them struggled on their way back to the parking lot, battling against the persistent rain. They did their best to shield the bags from getting wet, navigating through the downpour with determination.

Besides her earlier dilemma about Cameron's text, she finds herself faced with a new one. First, she struggles with the task of carrying the grocery bags up to her apartment alone, as she already has her gym bag filled with basketball gear. Second, she hesitates to ask Paige for help, knowing how much Paige has already done for her today. She waits until they arrive at her apartment before finally mustering the courage to speak up.

"Um, Paige, there's one more thing. I really need your help carrying these groceries," she stammers, nodding towards the backseat where the bags are piled.

"No problem at all, Miller. I've got you," Paige responds with a thumbs up and a playful wink.

"Thanks. I owe you big time for all your help today."

Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes every time Paige proudly exclaimed, "What would you do without me?"

In the elevator, she nudged Paige to keep her quiet as Paige continued to prattle on about her indispensable role in Y/N's life.

A sense of panic washed over Y/N when she noticed her door was unlocked. Only she and her dad knew the passcode.

Upon entering her apartment, she was greeted by Cameron sitting comfortably in her living room.

"Hi," Cameron greeted awkwardly.

"Who let you in?" Y/N asked, attempting to hide her annoyance, though it came out with a grit.

"I, uh... asked your dad," Cameron replied nervously.

Y/N felt her jaw clench.

"You can—"

"The heck, bro, why are you standing there like a post or something?" Paige barged in, not noticing Cameron at first, as she followed behind Y/N.

"Sorry about that. Hey, let's drop off these groceries and grab some lunch at your place, yeah?" Y/N suggested.

Paige gave Y/N a confused look, not catching on until she noticed Cameron. Y/N glared at her, silently conveying a "play along or else" message.

Paige, on the other hand, finds herself uncertain of what to do. She holds Y/N's groceries, her gaze shifting between Y/N and Cameron, feeling like an inadvertent intruder.

"U-uh, w-well, yeah, sure," she awkwardly responds, inching towards the kitchen to set down the groceries. The palpable tension between Y/N and Cameron doesn't escape her notice.

"H-hi, Cameron," she offers as she passes by, to which Cameron responds with a polite smile. "Sorry, I must have interrupted your plans today," Cameron apologizes.

"It's fine. No problem. I'll just… yeah, groceries," Paige gestures towards the kitchen, trying to diffuse the awkwardness.

She retreats to the kitchen, giving the two space to talk.

"I'm sorry for coming here with short notice. I thought you read my texts," Cameron explains.

"I am busy. I don't have time to be on my phone all day," Y/N replies tersely.

Paige wonders how she ended up in this situation, feeling more like the one interrupting rather than Cameron.

"W-well, I am staying at a hotel. Let me know when you are free," Cameron offers tentatively.

"I have no free time. I have an upcoming match, so feel free to go back to California anytime," Y/N says casually.

"Y/N…" Cameron trails off, at a loss for words. With a sigh, she continues, "Alright, let me know when you are ready to talk to me. I'll be leaving."

Cameron gathers her things and departs. What the heck just happened?

Paige returns to the living room to find Y/N standing there, visibly distressed after Cameron's departure.

"Well… what the hell just happened?" Paige asks, trying to make sense of the tension.

Y/N sighs heavily. "Long story. I really don't have the energy to deal with her," she says, shaking her head in frustration.

"Do you still want to go grab lunch?" Paige offers, hoping to lighten the mood.

Y/N's head shoots up, her eyes lighting up at the mention of food.

"I think so. I am hungry," she admits, a small smile forming on her lips.

"Well, don't expect salad. I won't feed you that kind of crap," Paige quips, injecting a bit of humor into the conversation. ---------

They found themselves in a brief argument over whether to cook or dine out, but in the end, Paige's preference for eating out won.

Paige wasn't joking when she said she wouldn't subject Y/N to just salad. She orders some chicken wings for her, reasoning that it's just for one day, and Y/N can return to her original diet afterward.

"Well, we're fucked," Paige muttered, her ears growing warmer and eyes a mix of amusement and concern.

Y/N's brows creased, curious about Paige's comment. Her annoyance grew as her phone buzzed again. Opening it, she was bombarded with Instagram and TikTok notifications, causing color to drain from her face in realization.

"What the hell? They took this angle wrong in all ways. Do we look like we're kissing?" Y/N exclaimed, her voice unintentionally carrying across the restaurant. The heads of other diners turned towards their table, causing Y/N to bow her head slightly in embarrassment.

Paige, now red-faced, looked away, feeling the weight of the situation.

"Who the hell even took this clip?" Y/N continued, her annoyance evident.

It became clear that the video was taken earlier when Y/N's contact lens fell out, and Paige was helping her. The angle made it appear as if they were kissing, with Paige's back and her hands on Y/N's face.

"That's kind of awkward. It really does look like a compromising angle," Paige added, trying to diffuse the tension.

Y/N shook her head in disbelief. "I didn't know there's actually malice in helping people now."

"Let them think what they want to think. It's not like it's any of their business," Paige declared, trying to brush off the situation with a nonchalant attitude. When in truth, her heart is almost thumping out of her chest.

"Alright, for the sake of my peace of mind," Y/N said with a resigned sigh.

Just then, one of Y/N's block mates, Miller, spotted them from across the restaurant. "Yo, Miller. What are you two doing here? Are you like having some lover's quarrel?" he called out, his tone teasing.

Annoyed, Y/N grabbed Paige's arm and hastily fled from the scene, wanting to escape the embarrassment.

Paige couldn't help but overhear what Y/N's blockmate said. "Holy shit, it wasn't a no. They were really dating," he exclaimed to his friends.

Paige's heart sank as the reality of the situation sank in. "Now we're really doomed," she muttered under her breath, realizing the potential fallout from the misunderstanding.

[balletthebestphotographs]

Kiyoka Hashimoto and Brendan Saye

Kiyoka Hashimoto and Brendan Saye, “In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated”, choreo, scenic, costume and original lighting design by William Forsythe, music by Thom Willems, As part of the program “Shifting Symmetries” (“Concertante”, “In the Middle, Somewhat Elevated” by William Forsythe and “Brahms-Schönberg Quartet” by George Balanchine), Wiener Staatsballett Vienna State Ballet, Wiener Staatsoper, Vienna, Austria (January 2, 4 & 5, 2024).

Source and more info at: Vienna State Ballet Website Vienna State Ballet on Twitter Vienna State Ballet on You Tube Vienna State Ballet on Facebook Vienna State Ballet on Instagram

Photographer Ashley Taylor Website Photographer Ashley Taylor on Instagram

Note I: This blog is open to receiving and considering any suggestions, contributions, and/or criticisms that may help correct mistakes or improve its content. Comments are available to any visitor.

Note II: Original quality of photographs might be affected by compression algorithm of the website where they are hosted.

[waffliesinyoface]

#this does mean i need to practice drawing dogs now. pretty sure thats how that works

puppydog

also i decided Hasami's ninken partner is named... Kagemaru. -maru because it's both "generic dog name suffix" and also because it's apparently tradition in the Inuzuka clan (akamaru, kuromaru, haimaru, akemaru, chamaru, etc. etc.)

and Kage for THREE reasons

1 - dark grey fur 2 - naming your dog "shadow" is kind of a stereotypical ninja name even if you disregard the fact that "Kage" is the title of the 5 biggest officially recognized badasses on the continent. so it's almost like, an aspirational name 3 - my grandparents had a big fluffy black chow named Shadow, and she was an important fixture in my childhood :')

so. 影丸.：）