This story is about the Baudelaires. And they are the sort of people who know that there’s always something. Something to invent, something to read, something to bite, and something to do, to make a sanctuary, no matter how small. And for this reason, I am happy to say, the Baudelaires were very fortunate indeed.
that is carved
THAT IS A ROCK
I have no idea how the artist manages to make it looks like not just cloth, but TRANSPARENT cloth. Amazing.
Hey Guys this is a sculpture of a Vestal Virgin, carved during the roman empire. its my favorite and is pretty fucking awesome.
I had the same reaction when I saw this motherfucker in the Louvre
I walked around that hunk of orgasm rock for a good ten minutes trying to figure out HOW.
b-but that’s not how rocks work???!!?
FUCKING BERNINI THO
DID SOMEONE SAY BERNINI? HERE’S BERNINI SCULPTING A FAT CARDINAL.
HERE’S A SELF-PORTRAIT. HE’S A DAMNED SOUL IN HELL, HE BURNED HIS HAND AND SCREAMED IN FRONT OF A MIRROR FOR REFERENCE BECAUSE FUCK EVERYTHING.
OH AND LET’S TAKE ANOTHER LOOK AT THOSE GRASPING ORGASM-HANDS
SPEAKING OF ORGASMS HERE’S A NUN MASTURBATING. HE PUT THAT MOTHERFUCKER IN A FUCKING CHAPEL.
DO YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE HE PUT IN A CHAPEL? THIS BITCHING PIECE OF MARBLE.
IS THAT AN ANGEL POINTING A GOLDEN ARROW AT THE CROTCH OF A NUN? YOU BET YOUR FACE IT IS! IS SHE HAVING A MIND-BLOWING ANGEL-ORGASM?
OF FUCKING COURSE SHE IS!
Sometimes I have this seemingly irresistible urge to draw more and make a living from commissions and attend conventions and do illustrations for magazines and concept art for videogames and matte painting for movies and just practice for hours on end because the stuff I would draw would totally be worth it and at other times it goes away completely. I wonder how people who do make a living of art (I know it’s completely doable, just takes a lot of patience and perseverence) deal with these low points. I also wonder what causes these highs and lows in art-making motivation, if it’s something that I could do to make myself at least a little bit motivated.
Every. Single. Time.
The frequency in which I’ve had to prance around my studio waving sheets to get wooshy cloth photo reference for paintings is increasing at an alarming rate.
integrált tartalom előállítási stratégia.gif
(ápdételtem, az rtl-t ebbe még nem raktam bele, mert csak egy fél év múlva lesz aktuális kb.)
J.R.R Tolkien, looking at flowers.
Apparently people hated to go for walks with him because he would stop and look at every tree for like 20 minutes.
EXPLAINS THE BOOKS
All I can see now is an enthusiastic Treebeard wandering the Shire and periodically booming out phrases like “HRUM LITTLE ORC, LOOK AT THESE FINE HYDRANGIA BLOOMS” at unsupecting hobbits.
I RELATE TO THIS THOUGH??