serenity ⭐
★ twitter | ko-fi | ig | prints ★
No title available
Keni
Misplaced Lens Cap

tannertan36
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
NASA
Stranger Things
No title available

titsay
todays bird
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
YOU ARE THE REASON
tumblr dot com
d e v o n
Not today Justin

No title available
will byers stan first human second
dirt enthusiast
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Romania

seen from United Kingdom

seen from T1

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Belgium

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Malaysia

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from Indonesia
seen from Indonesia

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
@bunniberrii
serenity ⭐
★ twitter | ko-fi | ig | prints ★
Cause we're girlfrienboyfrien.....
Commission done for @bunniberrii !
summer as in snowcones and sunbathing or summer as in sleeping in until 4, sweaty bed sheets, and late night crying
for april fools we’re deleting this entire site sayonara you weeaboo shits
05/02/2023
Weed pou
something i've been thinking a lot about is that just surviving is often both the least rewarding recovery experience and also the absolute most critical skill.
i think many of us have spent the last few years of our life just... holding the line. our legs trembling under all that weight. many of us backslid in the sand; and that was agonizing. we have spent so much of our life pushing, and to be forced backwards... we are already so exhausted. it is unimaginable to think we must remake the progress that had already been hard-won.
there's a graph that exists of how you can roughly expect any artistic skill to grow. we all go through periods of rapid growth and discovery; only to plateau. there is often a little sorrow in the plateau, because we're not moving quickly. we don't see those huge strides. there's no obvious sense we're learning.
but the art we're making in that plateau matters. it can still be effective, evocative, exciting. you can still feel inspired, happy, creative in that plateau; because the skills you have are growing, it's just that you're a spot where you don't need to focus on skill-building, you've finally reached a place where you can focus on actually making things. and at some point, without you expecting it, and as long as you work for it - another sharp increase in skill will happen. if you ask any of us how we did it, most of us would tell you the same thing: i just kept trying.
i have spent a lot of my life believing that just-surviving was the same thing as stagnating. i don't have any tangible goals or desires and the idea of making longterm plans makes me want to set my hair on fire. i am fucking tired. i don't want another year of scrambling, of falling down, of slipping in the mud. I love my friends, but i'm watching them settle down, have a life, get what they want: and i'm still here, in the part where i beg my life to be barely functional.
i think... maybe this whole time it wasn't standing still. it was still learning. it was still growing. i just got used to the plateau and forgot that "even surviving" isn't something i used to be able to take for granted. that in all this horrible, thankless effort - certain things are easy enough now. i can forget them.
i have spent so much time hating that i'm not getting better faster. i forgot that it used to be unthinkable to me to even consider recovery. these last years; i've been comparing my plateau to my eras of quick-discovery. i've been unfair to myself. no, the progress isn't as obvious. that doesn't mean it's not still-happening.
we make the mistake of saying "this year i want to live, not just survive," as if the effort of just surviving is useless, or could be shrugged off. the effort of surviving is beautiful. your years spent like barely-here are enough. you're not wasting time. you're not wasting your one precious life. "just holding on" means you were able to actually find and grab the rope. you're here; and the effort of your survival is work. you've been seeking the sky when it used to be impossible to imagine putting down roots. i know it is hard, and i hope you are able to feel better soon. i hope we both reach our next quick-climb. and i know - the weight might never ease up.
it's just that, over time, with effort: we will get strong enough.
– Ritika Jyala, excerpt from "The Flesh I Burned"
– Much Ado About Nothing, Play by "William Shakespeare"
– Terri Guillemets
– Charmaine J Forde
– Roses by the Stream, Book by Hua Bing
i want to draw nya in traditional indian attire, idk bc it seems right yknow?
me in my brain making jay half mexican with a white dad and indigenous mom 🙅♀️ idk!!!!! the puzzle pieces fit well in my brain
❗ emergency commissions ❗
things are tough for me right now so i’ve decided to open some special valentine’s day emergency commissions! three different tiers are open:
tier 1: sketch/lineart, $8
tier 2: simple black & white, $12
tier 3: full color (as shown on picture), $16
more art examples can be found here.
fandom and/or ocs are welcome, as well as a personal commission for you and your partner! in case of any real life couple commission, i will ask for reference pictures. position and details can be discussed in dms and with any tier you can ask for phone background resolutions as well.
payment via paypal only, upfront.
dm me if interested, and please share if you can! thank you :]
got a request for miss bucks… i love her
jay kinnies are either a: consumed by the guilt of their past actions or b: hate themselves and strive to change.
and then c: absorb the personality of your close loved one and become them
“There is nothing quite as lovely as after the winter solstice, the days getting longer, and the sun of spring wrapping a glove over the room. The room which is sometimes a kitchen, a classroom, a place to sleep. I can’t stop singing praises of this daily peace, this wash of visibility.”
— Yanyi, from “Lengthening, Rites,” in Dream of the Divided Field