#Various companies

[clioartfairartistsreviews]

The Celebration of Clio Art Fair Reviews Incredible 10 Years

An art fair is a convention show in the form of booths where different galleries, collectives, curators, and independent artists display their work for sale to both domestic and foreign collectors. Various companies organize application-based art fairs, and their curatorial team evaluates each application to see if it is a good fit for the particular fair. Clio Art Fair is one such organization that hosts art fairs for emerging artists.

Clio Art Fair has made a name for itself in the galaxy of satellite Armory Show realities in an art world where art fairs are common. The fair provides these artists with a platform to showcase their work and gain exposure while also promoting creativity and discovery. In this blog, let us learn more about the journey of the Clio Art Fair.

As it starts its incredible ten-year journey, Clio Art Fair Artists Reviews — long 10 years has become an example of willingness in the sometimes-exclusive world of contemporary art. With the fair's tenth anniversary fast approaching, excitement is building for another spectacular edition that will take place in Chelsea in May of next year, solidifying its reputation as a vibrant centre that continuously supports and encourages the creative community.

What is the Clio Art Fair?

The Clio Art Fair is a thoughtfully selected event that seeks to promote emerging artists and showcase the achievements of established creatives. By specifically featuring artists who do not have exclusive gallery representation in New York City, the fair brings attention to the varied range of contemporary art and interventions produced by independent artists from around the globe.

These artists are free to work with a variety of mediums and materials and to depart from concepts of what constitutes acceptable art practice since the typical worries and problems of the art industry do not constrain them. The resultant work, which is currently on display, aims to promote a conversation that cuts beyond established markets, power structures, and geographic boundaries. It also expands the possibilities for new media expression and consistently innovative material.

What Makes Clio Art Fair the Best of All?

Clio Art Fair Reviews - A call to fame named Clio Art Fair is a memorial to ten years of relentless creativity and firm commitment. It sets itself apart by challenging the traditional exclusivity connected to mainstream art. The Art fair provides a significant platform for emerging artists to showcase their talent and contribute to the contemporary art scene.

In Short

The influence of the Clio Art Fair carries beyond the boundaries of a conventional art fair, acting as a catalyst in molding the future generation's perception of contemporary art. It is evidence of the transforming power of inclusivity and commitment to creating a dynamic and diverse artistic landscape that appeals to both art fans and artists. As the Clio Art Fair approaches this significant milestone, its impact keeps growing and leaves a lasting impression on the changing face of the art world.

[girlwiththegreenhat]

team fortress 2 finally getting rid of the bots after 5 years

work on the team fortress 2 comic continuing after 7+ years

half life 3 development looking more likely than ever with legitimate code, file, and voicework leaks referencing a new non-VR single-player game from valve featuring a HEV suit wearing protagonist and Xen creatures and concepts

shoutout to the valve fan that found the genie lamp. you a real one

[venomgaia]

Hey do u think any of the district 23 chefs have ever gotten 'ingredients' from R corp. All that meat has to go somewhere, unless R corp is pulling a soylent green

I'm sure there are plenty of places that could actually manage to use 'ingredients' from R corp seeing as there's absolutely a surplus! Although, anyone who's procuring fresh 'ingredients' for the sake of the culinary arts...may end up with more of a mess than they bargained for...

[sylph--scope]

happy valentines day to these two and these two only

[sluckythewizard]

'I wont cry for you, I wont crucify the things you do. I wont cry for you, see, when you're gone, I'll still be BLOODY MARY'

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

So anyway you repeatedly say we only feel corn husks and similar inedible parts to cattle but Never add a source to back it up. Having worked on farms I’m afraid for the most part the feeds I’ve seen have been parts entirely edible to humans. And like fuck man 5% of all grown soy is fed to humans or however the stat goes, do you really think the remaining 95% is inedible? really?

Anyway yeah I’m asking for a source here cause I don’t want to add this on to months old post

Ingredients such as “grain by-products” are referring to the husks, stalks, and other “green” parts of the plant that we humans don’t actually have the digestive capabilities to eat. The breakdown of most livestock feeds looks like the above when you actually take a look at it.

Different cattle feed, similar ingredients. Still primarily things that, and I have to stress this, you cannot eat. This one is slightly higher in quality and does indeed have actual grain products included. Some of those are edible to humans. Some are not. Generally cattle are fed cattle cubes with supplemental mineral licks and hay. Some also supplement with whole corn, but I can gladly assure you that corn is not in short supply and even if all the corn sold to animal feed was donated to the poor, you can’t actually live off of corn because there’s very little nutrition in it. Hence why in both human and animal food it’s typically seen as a filler ingredient. Keeps the mouth busy with a meal without making your stomach feel full and you end up eating more without feeling satisfied.

Soybeans are really only often used in feed for pigs because they’re a great source of protein for these animals. I would state that soy is also a terrible option to use as an emergency food for humans in need because while, yes, it is indeed a healthy bean, it’s also one of the top eight foods that humans are frequently allergic or intolerant towards. I’d also ask you for whether your 5% of all grown soy statistic is referring to the beans or the entire plant because yeah the beans are the edible part. The rest of the plant isn't especially healthy for humans to eat. I would say the beans are around 5% of a mature soy plant sure.

[exocynraku]

from yesterday

[brother-emperors]

Modern au Pompey is so relatable, like yes that is my exact reaction to the glasses

everyone’s having a normal time about the glasses :)

[airborneice]

me, waiting for more work to be assigned: hmm what should I do, if I scroll through my phone it’s gonna look bad so I need to do smth to keep busy

devil on my shoulder: doodle the pooka on company time

[phantomeros]

creepy girls youre just my style

[soappox]

mask kiss

[whollyjoly]

for some reason i can't explain i know saint peter won't call my name

nothing that lives, lives forever - an immortal soldier!alton more au

(1.1k of snippets from my old guard(ish) au where alton more is old, too old, and has been living and fighting far longer than anyone should. full description/other thoughts at the bottom. tw: blood, violence, mentions of death)

Alton clicked the lighter closed, running a thumb over the silver case. The night was warm, sticky in a way that he never could get used to. He sucked in a breath from the cheap cigarette, letting his head fall back against the rough side of the barracks.

It was quiet. Typically, there would be no end to the commotion coming from the small building, one of many that littered Camp Toccoa. The wall of sound was ever-present, no matter if it was shouting or laughing or snoring. But whatever the cause, there was always noise. 

No matter if it was a blanket of noise he knew well, unchanging except for the language and the scenery. Soldiers are soldiers, and some things are a constant. It could almost be comforting, if it didn’t also mean that the need for soldiers was a constant as well.

However, tonight was a Saturday, and it was one of the few weekends that Sobel had allowed Easy the use of their weekend passes. Almost every man in the company had jumped at the chance to get off base, to travel home if they could and spend time with loved ones. The ones with farther-flung hometowns had spirited off to Atlanta, happy to spend their time drinking and dancing and fucking instead of slogging through another run, three miles up, three miles down.

Normally, Alton would have joined them in their carousing - it was easier to pass the time with the effortless camaraderie built during a training camp than bored and alone. 

But today had been a bad day. The sound of swords and the shift of sand beneath his feet followed him out of his nightmares, the humid summer of Georgia morphing itself into the baking, dry heat of the desert. 

His shouts must have been real, because when a hand came to shake him out of his dream, the first face he saw was not that of a grouchy NCO, but of a blood-caked Saracen, eyes alight with righteous fury. 

Alton didn’t think. He had grabbed the knife from under his pillow, an old thing that had been sharpened more times than he could begin to count, and was on the man in less than a breath, pressing the blade into the side of his neck. The familiar thrum of blood beat against his fingertips, the grit of sand scratched his gums. He knew what he had to do, had done it a thousand times, a thousand thousand times, what was a little more bloodshed spilled across his feet-

Alton had blinked, and came to himself in a rush.

Instead of an unnamed Saracen, the ashen face of Johnny Martin stared up at him, eyes wide behind the knife.

Alton drew back his hand, retreating almost as quick as he had lunged earlier. He mumbled a quick curse and apology as he stepped out of arm’s reach from the man. It wasn’t until Martin’s eyes widened even farther that Alton realized his tongue was slipping out Arabic of all things.

Usually, Alton was better about remembering himself, who he was almost as important as where he was. But for whatever reason, his demons had decided to catch up with him that night.

After a quick smile and some quip about the Krauts in his dreams, he managed to wave an only-slightly-mollified Martin off. The shorter man apparently hadn’t forgotten it though, if his watchful eyes during chow that morning were anything to go by.

Alton was just glad that no one else was awake to see it, at least. That was the last thing he needed.

And so, instead of joining in on a weekend of broads and booze, Alton found himself waving away the invitation by an eager Smokey and bemused Alley. When the horde made their way out of the barracks, fantasizing in bawdy terms about their planned misadventures, he felt like he could breathe easy.

Fucking finally.

~~

Alton took another drag from the cigarette. He watched the smoke curl, up and up until it faded into nothing amongst the darkening sky.

The lighter was a welcome weight in his hand, grounding him to this time, this life.

The design was worn by now, details barely visible after a half century of worrying. It still managed to amaze him, sometimes, what people could do with the smallest of canvases. Alton didn’t feel the same wonder however, wasn’t as mesmerized by the beauty man could create as he once was.

But in the quiet moments, he could still appreciate the time some French craftsman took to transform a hunk of metal into a small token carried around by a dead man.

Luz had spied the lighter one weekend, and laughed at him for using something so old-fashioned. Alton just shrugged, not caring to admit that he was still getting used to having a light at his fingertips. It wasn’t all that long ago when he was still lighting a pipe with a flintlock pistol, and not so long before that when he would carry around a flint and steel.

Time was passing all the more quickly these days, technologies changing and advancing, and everyone was obsessed with needing things to be quicker, cheaper, simpler. Alton scoffed. He could hardly find it in him to care.

He glanced down at the lighter in his hand, shifting it back and forth in a practiced motion and watched as the light skittered across the sides. 

It had shown flowers, once. A veritable garden of carnations, daffodils, and lilies of the valley, with leaves spilling across the front panel onto the back. They represent good fortune, he was told. Good fortune, luck, and hope. 

When the merchant described it to him, eyes ablaze with a passion known only to those with wares to sell, Alton didn’t try to hide the snort that escaped his throat. 

Fortune and Luck had abandoned him long ago, and hadn’t returned since waking up in a battlefield abandoned by all but the dead, sword in his chest and blood in his mouth. 

And what the fuck was Alton supposed to do with hope?

It was the quote on the back that had caught his eye, all those years ago in a street market in Reims. The beveled edges had faded with time, the familiar letters Alton traced were more memory by now than any physical mark. Une vie honorable est une vie éternelle.

An honorable life is an eternal life.

Alton couldn’t help but stare at the message, both then and now. He hated that goddamn word. Immortal. Unending. Eternal. 

They were such flowery words, used by people who craved what they couldn’t have, what they shouldn’t. The romanticized idea of the everlasting, the fountain of youth, the gift of life! Alton was sick of it.

This wasn’t life. He was a fucking dead man walking. And he sure as hell didn’t do anything honorable to deserve it.

months ago, while thinking about the absolute insanity of the almost...cavalier? attitude we see alton more have over the course of the series, an idea hit my brain: what if there was a reason nothing seemed to phase him - not panzers, not being a breath away from a car wreck, not bastogne, not speirs? what if this wasn't his first war? that thought spiraled me into a minor insanity that is this: my immortal soldier!alton more au, loosely inspired by the movie the old guard (2020). the idea is that, once upon a time, there was a soldier in a land many centuries ago. one day, he died in battle. and then, he woke up. and then he died. and then he woke up. over, and over. drawn to countless battles, conflicts, and wars, each one etching itself into the core of his soul. a never-ending cycle...until one sweltering summer, where he found himself at a training camp at the foot of a mountain. anyways. at some point, i plan on writing this as a full story, but that is admittedly a long ways away. however, in celebration of alton more's birthday today, i wanted to post my favorite scene that i've written for this au! it's set sometime at the beginning of the story, in the early days of camp toccoa. mostly, it's just a character study of this version of alton more. hope you enjoyed! and of course - happy birthday alton more!

(song insp.)

taglist: @sweetxvanixlla @coco-bean-1218 @bucky32557038ww2 @georgieluz @samwinchesterslostshoe @xxluckystrike @next-autopsy @ronald-speirs @land-sh @ronsparky @panzershrike-pretz @theredrenard @kyellin

[pequodharpooner]

Save me white boy

[aurosoulart]

sometimes I get NFTbros trying to get me to sell my work as crypto bullshit and NOTHING shuts them up faster than me saying

‘oh actually literally all my AR art is published under public domain! no single person can own it because technically it’s owned by everyone :))’

they hate not being able to manufacture artificial scarcity

[friskafriskito]

And we return with the sketch requests! This time it’s Jareth, the Goblin King from the movie Labyrinth, requested by @thejabberwookie​ !

Also, accidentally made a spooky version by turning on a clipping mask over the wrong layer:

I kinda like it! :’D Hope this was okay!

Jareth the Goblin King © The Jim Henson Company and Lucasfilms

__ Instagram: Friskishdrawings

[bandzboy]

in general, as kpop stans we have been letting a lot of things slide! a lot of companies get away with overworking and mistreating their idols for profit and at this point in time we should be more outspoken about these things and not let them get away with constantly