#TRUE and TALENTED artists

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[spacerockband]

Legend tells of the carp that leapt over the Dragon Gate at the crest of a river and became a stand up comedian.

[flowerakatsuka]

i find it funny that both times i've seen karamatsu draw in canon material he's shown to draw fairly well, at least when it comes to drawing self portraits.

sources : ( 01 ) + ( 02 )

so that either means he's just generally decent at drawing OR it's a makorin situation and he can only draw one thing well, that thing being himself.

[starleska]

you know what makes the Toymaker's 'ge-sticking on dee hair meinself' scene extra horrifying? we've seen that he has the capability to transform people into toys with just a touch (e.g., turning those UNIT guards into balls)...which means he chooses to 'make' (i.e., hand-craft) his dolls piece by piece 👀 in The Giggle novelisation, he says of Donna: 'What lovely hair Donna Noble had. How I would enjoy stitching it into place on a doll's head and combing it nice and straight.' making living people into toys isn't just the unconscious act of a godlike entity with too much power: for the Toymaker it's a deliberate, sadistic act he takes pleasure in 😭 even scarier: although he wants to stitch Donna's hair to a doll's head, it's clear that he wants Donna's soul to be inside the body of that doll (as he mentioned putting her in a cabinet and inviting her out to play games). but in the episode, some poor woman's had her hair cut off and stitched onto Stooky Bill...so where's the rest of her? i think that the Toymaker doesn't just hand-craft his toys. i think he mixes and matches his toy parts from different people 😨

[ladygoodomens]

Mystical Crowley - 21x15cm - watercolor & Chinese ink (and glitters !)

There we go, the @sendarya 's Good Omens got true talents (competitive categories) is done !

I'm so glad to have been able to participate to this incredible contest ! All the creations are amazing and all this creativity is insane and motivating !

Congrats and thabk you to everyone for having the courage to show their art 👏👏👏 Congrats and thank you to Sendarya and Camapuri for create and hosting this live 👏👏👏

You can rewatch it on her youtube channel and come sunday 3 march for support the non competitive categories 🤩

[exotic-inquiry]

real excited to get to share the Mel piece I worked on for the wayfarer 2023 calendar 🍑 

@idrellegames <3

[twistiraki]

Passion interrupted

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗ TᗯIᔕTEᗪ ᗯOᑎᗪEᖇᒪᗩᑎᗪ Pairing Jamil x F!Reader Warnings Suggestive ‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

As Y/N made her way to Jamil's dorm room, she couldn't help but feel nervous. She had offered to help him with his studies, and while she was happy to help, she couldn't deny the butterflies in her stomach. After all, Jamil was one of the most talented students at Night Raven College, and she didn't want to disappoint him.

When she arrived at his door, Jamil greeted her with a warm smile, and she felt her heart skip a beat. He was wearing his hair in a bun, which made him look even more handsome than usual. Y/N couldn't help but blush as he invited her inside.

They sat down at Jamil's desk, and he began to go through his notes. Y/N tried to focus on the task at hand, but she couldn't help but steal glances at Jamil every now and then. As they worked, she noticed that he was getting increasingly frustrated, and she decided to try and lighten the mood.

"Hey, Jamil," she said, trying to catch his attention. "Why don't we take a break for a bit? We can talk about something else."

Jamil looked up at her, and she saw a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. They began to chat about their interests, and before long, they were laughing and joking like old friends. Y/N couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to him, and she felt her feelings for him growing stronger by the minute.

But then, as they were getting up from the desk, Y/N tripped on a loose piece of paper and fell right into Jamil's arms. They both froze for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. Y/N felt her heart racing as she realized how close they were, and she could feel Jamil's warm breath on her face.

"I'm sorry," she said, trying to pull away. But Jamil held her close, and she could feel his heartbeat pounding in his chest.

"Don't be sorry," he said softly. "I've wanted to do this for a long time."

And with that, he leaned in and kissed her, his lips gentle and tender. Y/N felt her entire body ignite with passion, and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer.

Y/N couldn't believe the intensity of the kiss. She had never experienced anything like it before. Jamil's lips were soft yet insistent, and his hands had found their way to her waist, pulling her closer. She responded eagerly, parting her lips to allow him entrance.

Their tongues danced together, exploring each other's mouths with a hunger that surprised them both. Y/N could feel the heat building between them, and she moaned softly as Jamil's hands roamed over her body, teasing and tantalizing her.

But just as things were starting to get really steamy, they were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Jamil, are you in there?" a voice called out. It was Kalim.

Jamil pulled away, looking both frustrated and relieved at the interruption. Y/N tried to catch her breath as she watched him compose himself.

"I'll be right out," he called back, his voice slightly hoarse.

As soon as the door closed behind his friend, Jamil turned to Y/N and pulled her close again, pressing his lips to hers with renewed passion. They continued where they had left off, their hands roaming over each other's bodies, exploring and discovering new sensations.

Finally, they broke apart, both panting heavily.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long," Jamil said, his voice low and husky.

"Me too," Y/N replied, her own voice trembling with desire.

[toonagi]

customary artfight warmup drawings post

not as many this time but they've definitely gotten more elaborate. and also more dumb

i also did a couple for my beloved edgy middle school feral murdercat so tw for blood + gore under read more

she's so girlboss

[dreamstar-moonlight]

What was I just saying about putting people up on pedestals?

*sighs*

[bytebun]

I think back on my own “talent” as an artist & it’s like. never seen such a complete lack of design sense or visual aesthetic in a kid so good at capturing forms

[holdoncallfailed]

james murphy is an interesting figure to me because every LCD soundsystem album oscillates wildly between excruciatingly beautiful music that moves me to tears and the stupidest most self-important misogynistic drivel i've ever heard in my life. sometimes even within the same song.

[extasiie]

What kind of love are you?

Love as a Performance

Your love is a masquerade, a dance, a work of art. You love with a veil across your face, unable to allow anyone to see the real you. Can that be considered love, you wonder? As a performer, you have all your lines prepared, and you know exactly what to say and when to say it. You’re charismatic and bold, seductive and hypnotic. Your love is a snake’s melody, the siren song of the sea. Your love is enchanting. Your love is melodic. Your love is afraid and fearful and longing. You ache to tear the veil off, you ache to cast poetry aside for the sake of something real and gritty. You’re terrified of the very thought. Being loved by you is to be loved by an artist; it is to be a muse. It reflects others beautifully, but never, ever yourself. Not really. Not truly.

Tagged by: @charmantevamp

Tagging: @1end, @frxncaise, @polarean (for andrei, of course!), @melpomeneprose (uno reverse to your other account because i want to hear from my dear sister elenushka <3)

[blizardstar]

Listen, there’s plenty of reasons to criticize Hazbin Hotel, but if your only complaint is “Ew it’s cringe ass edgy middle school Deviantart OCs that think swearing is funny” then I’m sorry there’s no joy in your heart

[mysterypigeon]

why would you come to an art camp and be able to make beautiful, technically challenging art and then the moment you enter an art gallery you turn everything into a joke. calling things that have so much story and life and beauty to them gross and weird and stupid and boring. making that stupid joke about modern art. not looking at a single label. irony poisoning will kill us all

[katyspersonal]

Tumblr sorta needs a 'Mute' feature in my opinion. Like what if I don't want to block this user, what if I don't want to become enemies and in some days I'd like to interact. But also most of the time seeing how they avidly encourage everyone else whereas I get the passive-aggressive 'oh yeah very uhh... interesting... (please leave me alone I don't like your art lol)' makes me want to unfollow every single fan of these characters and never draw them again.

I remember two years ago the exact same thing happened when someone liked the same character and the same ship and I swear I was the only person in the fandom they bluntly left out and could not spare a single good word for. I can't even blame this on my art being "ugly" because this type of user always aggressively praises all art styles and all levels of skill, it feels more like 'a personal thing except we never fought a single time'. And now my toxic trait of needing approval from [cool person name] is back to haunt me years later! Add the unability to "abandon" this character/ship/whatever despite wanting to after facing so much unspoken passive spite, because I am a contrarian and the best way to trap me into doing something is to try to exclude me from it. I didn't face attempts to very aggressively bully me out of the yard/class/community/etc, sometimes with physical violence included, only to let something mid like passive aggression online finally do it.

I am really stupid and naive person despite my age, but in like 5% of the cases I will still understand the hint and understand what is going on. Yet I have to pretend to be clueless even in rare situations when I know someone hates me, because since they never admitted it, quitting will be perceived as me being "paranoid". But dear goooood, it hurts sometimes. I hope that one day I will be numbed to being treated as a tumor on an otherwise healthy body of society that someone is dying to amputate- and always a person whose approval I want, of all people. Knowing that this day will come is one of the things that keep me going as both a person and a creator. Things like viruses and diseases still try their best to persist, so even if I am actually one, I should persist. It doesn't matter whether I actually rot everything around me or this is just my self-depreciating delusion upon focusing on people that mistreated me and not people that loved me. What matters is persisting, I just still feel angry that it hurts. I can't respond spite with spite or passive aggression with passive aggression, I can't do the 'smug asshole' when I become aware that someone tries to starve me until I "die". I can just fall over and cry about it like a kicked dog, despite being so old, especially when it is a person I didn't have anything against.

And really.. It is as simple as turning the internet off, so I don't see The Person and can focus on doing stuff that I like, as if they never existed and can't crash my self-esteem. It is just annoying to keep doing this, a feature to not see them unless I am in the mood would be better. Like.. blocking is not an option. Not only it implies being enemies which is not my intention, but also it will be like an "evidence" that I was "crazy". They didn't do anything, right? Well, they know what they did, but it was never verbal, so it is my fault I "imagined things", right?

[mokeonn]

I'll make a post about it later but I swear the WORST advice I see being passed around in art circles is that art is a popularity contest and the only possible way to make money off of art, especially online, is to get popular first. Like that is BLATANTLY false.

The art community CONSTANTLY has to remind artists how damaging the numbers game is, and I think a huge reason why is because of how common a misconception it is that you have to be popular to make a living. It feels like the second I leave my specifically curated tumblr art community, I am bombarded with this idea.