I love these comics by Nathan W. Pyle.
Here are some more good ones
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KIROKAZE
Cookie Run:Kingdom Official!
Mike Driver

gracie abrams

titsay
Fieri Frames
Fai_Ryy

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Love Begins
Today's Document

#extradirty
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Cosimo Galluzzi

@theartofmadeline
d e v o n
Game of Thrones Daily
NASA
TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr

pixel skylines

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@caarooliinaaarraattiiaa
I love these comics by Nathan W. Pyle.
Here are some more good ones
This is what men are up to in 2019
“You are allowed to be both a masterpiece and a work in progress simultaneously.”
— Sophia Bush (via syntacked)
via weheartit
A good convo can change ya life
Gareth Egan
“you’re an art model does that mean you’re NAKED?” “yeah” “whoa….those lucky artists ;)”
…buddy.
idk who started the idea that life drawing classes have anything sexy going on like. there’s at least ten people in the room and we’re all tired and covered in charcoal.
the dude in front who’s staring at my boobs has been trying to get the shading right for 10 minutes. he’s almost out of paint. he is crying.
#this ain’t some avant-garde titanic poly romance it’s a bunch of individual sinking ships and one uncaring human-shaped ice burg
The ice burg being frozen solid because there are NEVER ENOUGH SPACE HEATERS.
I was an artist’s model in uni since it paid better than any other student work position. Did a life drawing class one semester, despite it being an unheated old building in the winter evenings, because the instructor was a decent fellow who always had extra space heaters. So there I am one evening, exhausted from my team’s afternoon practice, but I’m in a comfortable position on a padded stool, ready to hold the position for like fifteen minutes. Space heaters all around me, spotlights on me to get shadows in interesting places.
Beyond the red glow of the heaters and the hot-white of the spotlights, the massive drafty room is dark and quiet, broken only by the instructor’s whispers and the scratch of charcoal on paper. Me, I’m just dozing, ‘cause my ancient dorm was heated with creaky old steampipes that never really got warm, and with the new extra-powered space heater alongside the others, that night was the warmest I’d been in a month. I dozed, basking in the glorious warmth.
And then I fell asleep.
And then I fell off the stool.
I woke up rather abruptly on the cold wooden platform, and looked up to see an entire ring of terrified and worried faces around me. Everyone had their hands up, ready to help me up, except no one had touched me. Naked chick laid out face-down on the floor, and all the men and women were suddenly acutely aware they couldn’t just grab a half-asleep dazed naked chick.
Fortunately someone had the bright idea to tear the sheet down from the backdrop, lay it over me as a wrap, and then everyone was quick to help me up.
After that, the instructor and students got used to taking turns talking to me, just to make sure I wasn’t dozing off. Which was weird, at first, because I’d done two semesters just being a silent prop, and now I was interacting. It gave the class a vibe completely unlike any other I’d modeled for, and it ended up one of my favorite modeling experiences.
postscript: months later, walking on campus with someone who’d eventually become my spouse, we passed some guys on the main path. One of them stopped, peered at me, and then said hello, excitedly, saying, “sorry, I didn’t recognize you, I’ve never seen you with your clothes on!”
This is honestly so delightful and accurate
This! :D
Totally accurate. I worked as a art model in collage as well…in Fairbanks Alaska . Heat in the art department was fine, but the sculpture studio had a huge garage-style door . I was modeling there once when someone on the outside OPENED THE DOOR. It was around 30 below zero F out there! Every student in the room scrambled to grab their coats and pretty much bury me in them as the teacher yelled bloody murder at the guy who opened the door
Suffer for your art.
Maybe it wasn’t the “almost” that broke my heart. It was the long nights we spent together, and how you made me feel, like i was so far in the sky no plane could bring me back down. Again, it wasn’t the almost. It was the maybe. Maybe i’m loved, maybe i won’t hurt, maybe we will be together, it was false hope that broke my heart.
skyline-hurricane, writing prompt #67: write about an almost relationship, which broke your heart (via wnq-writers)
Reblog if you think the girl on the left is just as beautiful as the girl on the right
both these hoes ugly
When your crush catches you staring at them
aug 27, 2017
more plant drawings (゚⊇゚)