#artsville

[secondlife]

Find inspiration at Artsville, a thriving community of both emerging and established artists in Second Life.

Learn more ➡️ https://second.life/cf022123

Video by Draxtor Despres

[moonlitcoyote]

Pendants out of their stinky danger bath properly oxidized and buffed up and a new shiny not oxidized yet one that I am IN LOVE WITH.

Stinky Danger Bath because Liver of Sulfur is nasty stinky stuff and requires proper care and some safety equipment.

The unoxidized pendant and the Shattuckite pendant in the first picture (pendant on the right) was made following a tutorial from Artsville Handcrafted on Etsy.

I generally don’t go places where I can wear something like these often- but you better believe that when I do? I will.

[bji-melody-studio]

visit the "ARTSVILLE Galleries & Community, Caribbean Ocean" after the international woman day.

[adalynnlove]

Works of Art

This week I found a sim through destination guide called Artsville. It has some very interesting features that can be incorporated into photographs and it appears others have discovered this as well, because when I went back today to redo a photo, there were others working on photos as well. The sim itself is a work of art. This dress I am showing today, from Celestina’s Weddings, is also a work…

[djvader]

Come out to hear the liner notes live with the amazing Artist / Musician and Producer Zo! As he takes you on a journey track by track from his newly released album FourFront quoted by many as one of the best albums of 2019! A full Q+A session with TruFiyah hosting. Meet and greet to follow! Soundtrack and Vibes provided by DJ Vader Artsville theater on Friday March 20, 2020 $10 Tickets available at DJVMixx.com/Events #zo #fourfront #artsville #djvadermixx #trufiyahpoetry #listeningparty (at Artsville) https://www.instagram.com/p/B8rMoBLFsj6/?igshid=oswhdtbjmt6n

[faunusrights]

man it’s bonkers but not being able to draw/write/do ANYTHING between like... fucking SEPTEMBER to NOW was absolutely killing me for a thousand reasons but having been able to slowly get back into it has given me a whoooole new vibe. idk why but when yr brain straight refuses to work for a few months u honestly come back stronger every time im just FEELING IT again lately. which is great!!! but i shouldn’t have really forced myself to try (and fail) to make stuff for several months... i kept beating myself up abt it cause ppl r literally waiting on me but tbh it wasn’t like i was going anywhere fast w/ that mentality... but now drawing and writing feels Good and Right again and i feel like my quality is back up to my standards and its a great feeling!!! so hopefully we’re back on the train to artsville B)

[therobinflieseast]

Baby steps to artsville mayyyybeeeeee????

[ashleybfa3]

https://www.nzonscreen.com/title/christine-hellyar-artist-and-naturalist-2009

[worlddommusic-blog]

Come here me tell my story #November17th at @artsville_madisonville BE THERE‼️ Ticket #LinkInBio 🤟🏾🎤🏄🏾‍♂️🌊💫🚀 #ExcuseMe 🗣 @meekmill @thuggerthugger1 #ExcuseMeChallenge #Day38 😎 - - #cincinnati #ohio #cincinnatimusic #ohiomusic #ohiomusicscene #hiphop #hiphopculture #ohiohiphop #lhhatlanta #ohiohiphopawards #loveandhiphopatl #loveandhiphopatlanta #qc #qcthelabel #atlantarapper #lhhatl #monascottyoung #beardgangtakeover #beardgame #meekmill #richbyrickross #bossup #kyrieirving #rajonrondo #chrispaul (at Artsville) https://www.instagram.com/p/BpOvVtDn_yP/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=cxc874uhmq0q

[maym-blog]

Tyler Cook – The Artsville Songwriting Competition

Contest Winner Music & lyrics © 2012 Tyler Cook. All rights reserved.

To win a contest–you’ve got to be the very best, You have to take it all the way to the top of the mountain tonight! To be the very best–you’ve gotsta pass every test, You’ve got to learn the moves that let you win the fight.

(And) I wrote this song for you, girl. And, babe, you know it’s true, That it’s the greatest song in the world, And I hope you think so, too.

To be a contest winner–you’ve got to be a bit of a sinner. You’ve got to play it like there ain’t no right or wrong. If you want to get to the top–you can never ever stop, And that’s why I went and wrote this winning song.

And I wrote it just for you, girl. And, babe, you know it’s true, That it’s the greatest song in the world, It’ll at least take number 2.

Writing winning songs ain’t easy, But I know a trick or two, You need a catchy chorus and a bridge, And some words that rhyme, too.

I wrote this song for you, girl. And, babe, you know it’s true, That it’s the most original song in the world, ‘Cause a derivative song won’t do.

Whoa ho-oh! It just won’t do. It’s the best song in the… world! Likes: 232 Viewed:

The post Tyler Cook – The Artsville Songwriting Competition appeared first on Good Info.

[writingthingsisdifficult]

Shrinking - The teaspoon girl pt 5

A witch turns Y/N into a teaspoon sized woman, and Sam and Dean has to make sure she doesn’t get squashed – and find a cure.

Word count: 2226

Have another part – this one is a bit angstier than the others. Sorry about that. Hopefully part six isn’t too far away (I’m sorry – I’m a slow writer).

Please let me know what you think – and remember that I’m not English. Also let me know if you want on – or off – my tag list.

From part four:

Leaning back to look at him like Spiderman, she failed horribly at winking and snorted loudly. “Shhh…” she whisper-yelled. “I’m climbing Sam, can’t you see? Always wanted to – how can I not, I mean look at ‘im,” she continued, slurring slightly. “Mmm… just… muscles, y’know. And…”

She was interrupted by Sam, who surprisingly had turned the shade of a very ripe beetroot. “Y/N, you’re drunk,” he said, gently lifting her off his arm – she’d reached his elbow, and was trying to scramble over a fold in the fabric without falling down – and put her back on the table, where she promptly plopped down on her butt and groaned.

“Hey! Put me back! I’m trying to… I’m gonna… I wanna…” She grinned widely and blew him a loud kiss.

“You’re drunk,” Sam repeated.

“No, I’m not. You’re drunk. I’m… I’m –“ Shutting up abruptly, her eyes darted around frantically. “Bucket!” she mouthed, and then threw up all over herself.

A wet washcloth slapped down on the table, followed by a loud laugh that definitely belonged to Dean. The light hurt in Y/N’s eyes, and she felt increasingly dizzy, but being covered in vomit made nothing better, so she embraced the gesture – even with the laugh.

After wiping her face and discarding her trousers and the sweater, she felt much better. The cool air on her skin slowed the spinning room down to a manageable speed, and she dared to look up.

Dean was grinning, looking like he wanted to laugh so bad, but lacked the courage to do so. Sam was watching her intensely, and suddenly she felt extremely exposed, wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of ill-fitting panties. His gaze was scrutinising, but when she made no signs to keel over, he relaxed a bit, and finally he smiled. “Time to put you to bed, huh?” he said, holding out his hand.

Y/N smiled back, feeling a surge of drunken courage. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Sorry to break it to you, Sammy, but I’m a classy lady. You have to take me out on at least one date first.” With a satisfied grin, she climbed into his hand and let him carry her to the bed.

“Says the girl who just now tried to climb my brother,” Dean chuckled.

“Be nice,” Sam replied with a small, sideways smile. “She’s drunk.”

“Yeah, be nice,” Y/N echoed as Sam tucked the handkerchief around her. “She’s dr – hey! I’m not drunk. You’re drunk.”

“Whatever you say, precious,” Sam finished and turned off the night-light.

It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, and she slept peacefully, only waking twice from a shadow looming over her, and the rest of the evening passed with hushed conversations and flickering light from Sam’s laptop screen.

The pain that rolled over Y/N when she woke up the next day was out of this universe. Every fibre in her body protested her continued existence.

With massive effort, she sat up in bed and did a short inventory on herself. Head: check, impossible to ignore. Even without the splitting headache, or the fact that her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, feeling like sandpaper dipped in glue. Torso: heart racing, but otherwise okay. Acceptable. Arms and hands: surprisingly sore. What the hell had she been up to? The previous day was nothing more than an alcoholic blur. Legs and feet: both there. That was a relief.

She sighed. “Water,” she muttered, looking around the room. At least she wasn’t alone.

Sam was nowhere to be seen. Probably out on his morning run, but Dean was cleaning his gun by the window, and hearing Y/N’s feeble attempts to communicate, he looked up from his work. “She lives! How you feelin’, tiny? Ready to go climbing today?”

She frowned at him and the stupid, bright light slapping her across the eyes. “Like shit. What the hell are you talking about?”

“Like you don’t know,” he laughed, “trying to hit on my brother with your impressive rock climbing skills…”

A vision of fabric and arms and a disappointed face flicked in her brain. “Oh, Jesus, kill me! Kill me now!”

“Nope. It’s too much fun watching you dance around –“

Y/N hissed when Sam strode through the door. He smiled brightly when he saw her. “Morning! How are you feeling?”

Y/N’s face flushed with embarrassment. Or maybe it was arousal; he looked absolutely delicious with his hair clinging to his face, and drops of sweat rolling down his throat. “Horrible. Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m… sorry about… last night.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. You were drunk. It’s Dean’s fault, really. He shouldn’t have given you alcohol.”

“Hey!”

Y/N grinned. “Yeah, Dean. It’s all your fault!”

“So no harm done,” Sam continued over Dean’s grumbling, holding up a white paper bag. “Breakfast’s in here. Save a sandwich for me.” With a wink, he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Y/N with a spinning head and bright pink ears.

After breakfast, which turned out much livelier than Y/N had expected, Dean fetched his car keys and the box of fake IDs. He picked one for himself, and tossed the companion piece to Sam.

“Seriously, Dean? Where do you get these stupid names from?”

Sam’s protest was somewhat justified, Y/N thought, when she caught a glimpse of the card. The picture was great, but the name… Special agent Philip Artsville. Didn’t stop her from giggling, though.

When she finally managed to pull a serious face again, Sam had already changed into his FBI getup, and so had Dean. Y/N paused for a moment. “Looking sharp, guys, but how am I gonna fit in those pockets?” The suit was elegant, but the pockets weren’t the largest.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Sam made a series of indecipherable noises before clearing his throat. “Yeah… about that…” He hesitated for just a bit too long. An unpleasant sting settled in Y/N’s stomach, and got even stronger when he looked to Dean for confirmation. “We don’t think it’s such a good idea for you to come with us on this one.”

“What? But…” Never in a million years had she imagined them leaving her behind.

Dean nodded. “Thing is… you’re so small now. If something happens… I don’t have the skills to fix squashed dolls and neither does Sam.”

“Come on! I can’t stay here. I’ll lose my mind! Nothing will happen –“

“You don’t know that. Look, I’m sorry, but the decision is final,” Sam said, looking at her with a mix of sympathy and determination. Y/N stared back with pure frustration in her eyes.

“It’s for the best,” Dean agreed, receiving a cold stare in return.  

“Fuck you,” she spat, trying hard not to burst into tears. “I’m going crazy here and you wanna leave me behind?” She turned on her heel and marched over to her bed-box and climbed in, struggling even more than usual, pulling the handkerchief completely over her head. It felt too big – like she was drowning in the soft fabric.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” Sam said, trying to pull the blanket back just to see that she was okay, but she clung to it and almost got lifted off the table. He didn’t get an answer.

“See ya later,” Dean said, and then the door closed.

Y/N peeked over the edge of the box. The room was empty. Darker than she remembered. She climbed out and padded over to the nightlight. At least the switch was on the base.

Slowly climbing onto the metal disc, she stopped for a second. It was harder to get up there. Craning her neck, she tried to see if they’d moved her bed without her noticing. No, it was same lamp as before. But it had definitely grown.

Shaking her head, she threw her leg over the edge and pulled herself up. The switch was harder to push too. Putting all her weight and strength behind the push, she almost toppled over when the switch finally gave and light flooded the table. What the hell? She didn’t have the same problems earlier.

The drop down from the lamp seemed almost daunting now the thought had settled in her mind. Making her way over to the box, she measured herself against it. She couldn’t look over the edge any more. “FUCKING WITCHES!!!!!” she yelled, kicking the matchbox ladder. It didn’t even move, and she sank to her knees, clutching her hair and screaming louder than she had ever screamed before.

Falling quiet, she sat with her back against the box and stared into the room. It was as if it expanded; each wall slowly moved outwards. And it was too quiet. If they’d only left some music on or something. Even crappy daytime TV.  But no. Everything about the situation reminded Y/N of how insignificant and useless she was.

Not ready to face this new revelation, she crawled into the bed and sank deep into her little mattress. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, and eventually she fell asleep, having no other means to pass the time.

Sam came back first. He’d left Dean behind at the diner, and gone straight to the motel with a bag of food. At first he was confused when the room was completely silent, with no sign of Y/N, and his stomach fell when he found her exactly where they’d left her that morning.

“Hey,” he said softly, stroking her hair away from her face to wake her. “I’m back. You hungry?”

Rubbing her eyes, she replied with a yawn followed by the tiniest sigh. “Mhm. Where’s Dean?”

The question punched Sam in the gut. Asking for his brother – he didn’t know what to say. He wished that he was the first thing on her mind when she woke up, but if it was Dean… Her heart would be shattered. Dean had never seen her as anything other than family. “He’s… uh… not here.” It was a coward’s solution, choosing not to utter the words that might hurt her.

She smiled. It was a sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Oh, he found himself entertainment for the evening, huh?” Letting out a small laugh, Y/N hauled herself out of the bed and climbed into Sam’s hand. “Good for him. Hope she was pretty.”

Squinting, Sam watched for a heartbreak reaction. There was none. Was the girl Dean had gone home with pretty? He honestly hadn’t noticed. “I guess,” he said, shrugging noncommittally, busying himself with preparing dinner for Y/N.

He put the plate down for her, and pulled up a chair. Y/N was mellower than usual, if mellow was the right word. Somehow all her movements seemed sluggish without the laziness – every time she turned her head it was gentle, a small movement, every step slower, every time she lifted her arms it was… timid: that was the word Sam was looking for. It was as if she tried to be invisible.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, regretting it immediately. The look he received was so lost, so without hope, he could barely stand it.

Y/N drew a short breath and sat down on her spoon. “You mean besides the obvious?” It would’ve been a crisp question had it not been for her voice; just a mist, not really there.

Resisting the urge to scoop her up and cradle her to his chest, Sam settled on leaning on the table instead. The tiny shake almost tipped her over. “We’re working on it,” he offered, knowing it wasn’t enough.

“I know.” It was a short answer, and it broke his heart. Y/N had given up. She looked him in the eyes. “I just… I miss my make-up and my clothes. I miss feeling pretty. And useful.”

“I know you do,” Sam said in a whisper, and continued: “For what it’s worth I think you’re pretty. And even though you can’t help out physically right now, you bring support and friendship. You keep us company. That’s plenty – ”

“Instead I’m fucking shrinking!” Her voice quivered, and she sniffed, turning away to hide the tears in her eyes.

“Shrinking?” This was bad news. A thousand what ifs raced through Sam’s brain.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I can’t… can’t see over the top of the… the…” She sniffed and got up, dragging her feet behind her until she stood in front of Sam’s outstretched hand, and leaned forward a little, nudging it ever so slightly.

As gently as he could, Sam lifted her up and held her tiny body close to him, stroking her back with his thumb. Soon he felt hot tears trickle down his collarbone, and he rocked back and forth, saying nothing and everything all at once.

After a while Y/N’s sobs quieted, and her shaking body stilled in his hand. Her chest rose and fell evenly, and Sam held her up to look closely at her.

Her face was wet and swollen, and the skin around her eyes was raw and pink, but she looked peaceful for the first time in ages.

Careful not to wake her, he carried her over to the bed and tucked her in, before returning to his laptop, doubling his efforts.

Dean found Sam lying on top of the covers in his bed. He was fully dressed and sleeping restlessly. The laptop had slid halfway down from his stomach, and the cursed bowl was in his hand. Scattered all over the bed and floor were papers with scribbles, copies of the symbols on the bowl, attempts at translations.

Smiling softly, Dean checked on Y/N before cleaning up the mess and the computer, and carefully moving the bowl so it wouldn’t fall to the floor and shatter.

Once that was done, he expertly removed Sam’s shoes and coaxed the blanket from under him. “We really need to figure this one out, little brother,” he whispered as he shook the blanket out over Sam. “And then you and Y/N are gonna have a serious talk. Don’t think I haven’t seen through you. Both.”

With a squeeze on Sam’s shoulder, he went to get ready for the night. When he got back after brushing his teeth, Sam had turned over on his side, facing Y/N and stretching a hand towards her.

Part six

Tagging my wonderful friends:

@awesomeahwu @brynleewolfe @funwithfanfics @babeinthebowtie @savingapplepie-eatingthings @winchesterprincessbride @savvythedork @littlegreenplasticsoldier @youtubehelpsmesurvive @blackcherrywhiskey @mrswhozeewhatsis @schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte @aiaranradnay @iamreadinginsecret @barneybrigade @fandomismyspiritanimal @mogaruke @kathaswings @superwholockyooooo @missdestiel67 @blackfandomtrashandproud @wstrumpel @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @saradiamayaf @escabell @exploratiionist @hennessy0274-blog @sushi-senpai-chan @femmewinchester

[stoutheart]

Setting the mood. #lionwitchwardrobe #tourlife #tour #cincyplay (at Artsville)

[djvader]

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Kenyatta Smith (@vadermixx)

A night of soulful music! The listening party for @zo3hree5ive magnificent album FourFront on March 20th at @artsville_madisonville doors open at 7pm with sounds by Vader and hosted by @author_trufiyah ! Reserve your spot now! #neosoul #cincynights #djlife #vinyl (at Artsville) https://www.instagram.com/p/B9ZO-jwFLeQ/?igshid=z5gxfnyr0nvr

[artsville-blog]

Artsville House Concerts presents The Honey Dewdrops - Saturday, September 6

“They sound more authentic than 99.99% of the artists who make up this thing called popular music… Like. Like. Like.” - Ed Maxin, Blogger for No Depression “Not only are they brilliant musicians, Laura and Kagey are wonderful people whose music is as genuine as their personalities. They have the chops to make it big but more importantly, their sincerity and kindness will vault them to a whole new level in the coming years.” - Bradley Kolodner, WICB, Ithaca, NY The Honey Dewdrops are the Virginia-based roots duet of Laura Wortman and Kagey Parrish. With a blend of new Americana and traditional folk music, they create inspired songs that are rooted in the experience and lives of people. Their sound is transcendent; they write all their own songs and yet no one could ever peg them as just another singer-songwriter couple, not when they’ve embedded a sparse Appalachian clarity on every track that is accessible to listeners everywhere. The songs they write shine with energy and emotion through intimate performances with a handful of acoustic instruments and tightly layered harmonies. On stage, the Honey Dewdrops focus on dynamically blending the sounds of instruments and voices by singing and playing into a single microphone. There is a high lonesome quality to the way their voices blend that is familiar, yet the mixture is unique. Their music covers the ground between hand crafted folk songs, Appalachian fiddle tunes, and a cappella spirituals. In their own way, the duo fills up a room with sound and feeling that lingers long after the show is over. For more, visit thehoneydewdrops.com. ----------------------------------------------------- Saturday, September 6, 2014 Artsville House Concerts presents The Honey Dewdrops Hartsville, SC (You get the secret address when you buy a ticket) Tickets are $15. Doors at 6:30pm. Music at 7:30pm. For those who are newbies, here's the way it works:

You check out our artists, realize they're really cool, and you want to come to the show.

You click the Paypal link (no Paypal account necessary) and select the number or seats you'd like.

Don't forget to click "Click here for the secret address" after you pay!

You receive a receipt from Paypal.

You'll receive an email about a week out from the show with the address and other important info.

You come to the concert and have the time of your life.

Thanks for trying new things, Dylan

[worlddommusic-blog]

Two drunks ain’t shit 😂😂🖤 this what that Peach @ciroc do 🍾🤪 - - #family #sister #siblings #growingupwithsiblings #siblingsbelike #siblingsgoals #bigsis #bigsister #bigsisterlove #bigsisterlove #bestbigsister #littlebrother #cincinnati #cincinnatimusic #whodey #ohio #ohiomusic #ohiomusicscene #ohiohiphop #ohiohiphopawards #performance #backstage #liveinconcert #wshh #360waves #oldskool #spotify #itunes #championships #ciroc (at Artsville) https://www.instagram.com/p/BrEMBPuFONZ/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=gsde6hls8cb3

[djvader]

Friday March 20th is around the corner! Come out to Zo! FourFront Album Listening Party/Meet and Greet +Q&A (Cincy) A great night, A great Vibe, A fantastic album and definitely something different! Tickets available at: DJVMixx.com/events FourFront by Lorenzo Ferguson Hosted by Ronda TruFiyah Lloyd-Peck Sounds & afterparty by Vader #zothreefive #fourfront #neosoul #listeningparty #cincynights (at Artsville) https://www.instagram.com/p/B9PEq6pFFKs/?igshid=hs6yexbf8hqx