(via [image] Rules for being human : GetMotivated)
wallacepolsom
i don't do bad sauce passes
Peter Solarz
Mike Driver

Kaledo Art

pixel skylines

titsay
dirt enthusiast
$LAYYYTER
RMH
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
đȘŒ

izzy's playlists!
occasionally subtle

Kiana Khansmith
Show & Tell
Jules of Nature
trying on a metaphor

romaâ
Stranger Things

seen from Malaysia

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seen from India

seen from Malaysia
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seen from TĂŒrkiye

seen from Colombia

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@dvesay
(via [image] Rules for being human : GetMotivated)
đđžđ°
Iâm gonna go fucking apeshit over this.
@vague-humanoid
I remember as a schoolboy being told by artist Roger Dean that Chris Rossâs SF book covers, featuring enormous space ships, were actually pictures of Vaccuum Cleaners, Irons, and things youâd find around the house. (Also being told by Roger that Chris Foss could indeed draw people and had illustrated The Joy of Sex.) Which meant I could never again see a Chris Foss spaceship without imagining it in a kitchen.
Hello
I am just ecstatic to see Roger Dean mentioned in the wild. He is one of the most influential artists in terms of my childhood and inspiring me to create art, and why my abstract art looks the way it does ever since my dad gave me an artbook of his.
Yet almost no one seems to know who he isâŠand omg not only is someone actually mentioning Roger Dean, that someone is @neil-gaiman 0.0
(And Infeel obligated to show of some of Roger Deanâs amazing art)
It hadnât even occurred to me that anyone wouldnât know who Roger Dean is.
The Intrepid Exploders
Techies set for Dota 2 International 2019 Call to Arms
https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=1725202727
Techies Snow and Hero RemovalÂ
https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=1559863124
my shit brain: iâm so bad at this, i just canât do it-
me, a learning, growing human being whom believes in her own potential: yet bitch!!!!
youâve been tricked by the education system into thinking that your worth is based on your ability to do the thing Right Now on the First Try, but hereâs the big secret: everyone sucks at shit when they first try it, including the people who then get really good at shit. if little baby you had given up on talking because you fucked up on the first try, you wouldnât know how to talk. and if your favorite singer/artist/whatever gave up because they fucked up on the first try, they wouldnât have made that thing you love. so stop shitting on yourself for failing and get excited about learning a new skill instead! be bad at things!! have fun being bad at them!! thatâs how you get better!!
There was this episode of Monk where he joined a painting class, drew one line, and then despondently said âI ruined itâ, and that show may have had a lot of problems but fuck me if I havenât been going back to that Mood for ten years solid now
The Mood to replace it:
REPOST @TinySnekComics - you know whatâs cool?  VOTING THIS NOVEMBER!!! if you retweet anything today, make it is!! Â
Grim Harvest-- my new set for Undying is in the Dota Workshop! Iâd love some upvotes for this happy boyÂ
https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=1465501369
Unfinished
You,
Well-creased and proper,
Asked me why I run.
So I,
Sweat-soaked and panting,
Have formulated a response.
I run because I like to see skin stretched tight over muscle.
I run because I screwed up again, and my sneakers don't pass judgement.
I run because I want to catch up to that ponytail in front of me.
I run because walking takes too long.
I run because yesterday I had to stop back there.
I run because I know that somewhere within me lurks a marathon
and a four-minute mile.
I run because endorphins make me giddy.
I run to escape long repressed sins of omission.
I run because a low fat jelly doughnut does not exist.
I run because the sound of my breath and the wind in my ears can
drown out the whispered words that haunt me.
I run because I am preparing for takeoff.
I run because confidence is very sexy, don't you think.
I run because you are still faster than me.
I run because I've met Atalanta.
I run because you told me not to be late again.
I run because going fast down a steep hill is so cool.
I run because the Wolves of Despair are nipping at my heelsâbut they're getting tired.
I run because I like to see the steam rising.
I run because I still like to jump in puddles.
I run because I drank too much coffee this morning.
I run because there are some things the thirty-seven definitions
in Webster's don't tell you.
I run because
--by Dan Vesay
My Techies set for the 2018 International is finished! Check it out and vote if you like it. https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=1383098332
The Dwarf | Brian Froud
Spirals are deeply rooted in the architecture of the universe; they are found in every size and substance. Weâre always intimate with spirals yet rarely notice them. Sometimes we miss them due to familiarity, as in water whirling down the tubâs drain and in the shape of our ears. Sometimes we miss them because of their obscurity, as in the spiral âstaircaseâ of leaves whirling around a stem. Sometimes we miss them because of their size, or distance, hurricanes or galaxies. And sometimes we miss them because of their invisibility, as in the shape of the wind and waves of emotion.
Michael S. Schneider
Monogmatics
i.
my fingertips reach for your face
a budâs first glimpse of sun
wan capillaries curl around roots
preferring the cold clarity of mud
to bloom is undeniable
honey drips from the hive
i tell myself the buzzing in my ears is just blood
rivering home
ii.
dressed in russets
like the trees
like an old wound
we pile on layers
a bone china tea set for two
wrapped piece by piece
in yesterdayâs news
iii.
drawing close as temperatures drop
a blanket tucked under twenty toes
the stationary ceiling fan watches
a padded question mark
pulsate gently on the hermetic bed
the bubbles by our heads
house white noise
iv.
weeds pop up between bedroom tiles
look me in the eyes as you disappear
they say you either move forward or back
but weâve been treading sheets
for years
and weâre both too jaded to change them
v.
love like beauty is in the eye of the behold i ponder
as we watch the sunset blush the bedroom walls
-Naomi Tate Maghen
The suffix âmaticsâ means 'willing to (perform)â
be kind. be ridiculously, radically, endlessly kind. be a part of someoneâs good day. send nice thoughts, send positive vibes, send support and love and well wishes. be kind. so often we wish for tomorrow to be a good day when we are at our lowest. some sort of sign that it gets better. be a part of that better day for someone. the world does not magically decide that it will be softer on you today, tomorrow, the next day. and sometimes it starts with a message from someone else, maybe a little bit of inner strength to pull yourself up and take a shower, maybe a bit of sunlight makes the day better. but itâs these small things, these soft things that make a day better. so be kind. donât ever think about being anything other than kind. be a part of someoneâs good day because you donât know how desperate they might be for it.Â
Please make a post about the story of the RMS Carpathia, because it's something that's almost beyond belief and more people should know about it.
Carpathia received Titanicâs distress signal at 12:20am, April 15th, 1912. She was 58 miles away, a distance that absolutely could not be covered in less than four hours.
(Californianâs exact position at the time isâŠcontroversial. She was close enough to have helped. By all accounts she was close enough to see Titanicâs distress rockets. Itâs uncertain to this day why her crew did not respond, or how many might not have been lost if she had been there. This is not the place for what-ifs. This is about what was done.)
Carpathiaâs Captain Rostron had, yes, rolled out of bed instantly when woken by his radio operator, ordered his ship to Titanicâs aid and confirmed the signal before he was fully dressed. The man had never in his life responded to an emergency call. His goal tonight was to make sure nobody who heard that fact would ever believe it.
All of Carpathiaâs lifeboats were swung out ready for deployment. Oil was set up to be poured off the side of the ship in case the sea turned choppy; oil would coat and calm the water near Carpathia if that happened, making it safer for lifeboats to draw up alongside her. He ordered lights to be rigged along the side of the ship so survivors could see it better, and had nets and ladders rigged along her sides ready to be dropped when they arrived, in order to let as many survivors as possible climb aboard at once.
I donât know if his making provisions for there still being survivors in the water was optimism or not. I think he knew they were never going to get there in time for that. I think he did it anyway because, god, you have to hope.
Carpathia had three dining rooms, which were immediately converted into triage and first aid stations. Each had a doctor assigned to it. Hot soup, coffee, and tea were prepared in bulk in each dining room, and blankets and warm clothes were collected to be ready to hand out. By this time, many of the passengers were awakeâprepping a ship for disaster relief isnât quietâand all of them stepped up to help, many donating their own clothes and blankets.
And then he did something I tend to refer to as diverting all power from life support.
Hereâs the thing about steamships: They run on steam. Shocking, I know; but that steam powers everything on the ship, and right now, Carpathia needed power. So Rostron turned off hot water and central heating, which bled valuable steam power, to everywhere but the dining roomsâwhich, of course, were being used to make hot drinks and receive survivors. He woke up all the engineers, all the stokers and firemen, diverted all that steam back into the engines, and asked his ship to go as fast as she possibly could. And when sheâd done that, he asked her to go faster.
I need you to understand that you simply canât push a ship very far past its top speed. Pushing that much sheer tonnage through the water becomes harder with each extra knot past the speed it was designed for. Pushing a ship past its rated speed is not only recklessâitâs difficult to maneuverâbut it puts an incredible amount of strain on the engines. Ships are not designed to exceed their top speed by even one knot. They canât do it. It canât be done.
Carpathiaâs absolute do-or-die, the-engines-canât-take-this-forever top speed was fourteen knots. Dodging icebergs, in the dark and the cold, surrounded by mist, she sustained a speed of almost seventeen and a half.
No one would have asked this of them. It wasnât expected. They were almost sixty miles away, with icebergs in their path. They had a responsibility to respond; they did not have a responsibility to do the impossible and do it well. No one would have faulted them for taking more time to confirm the severity of the issue. No one would have blamed them for a slow and cautious approach. No one but themselves.
They damn near broke the laws of physics, galloping north headlong into the dark in the desperate hope that if they could shave an hour, half an hour, five minutes off their arrival time, maybe for one more person those five minutes would make the difference. I say: three people had died by the time they were lifted from the lifeboats. For all we know, in another hour it might have been more. I say they made all the difference in the world.
This ship and her crew received a message from a location they could not hope to reach in under four hours. Just barely over three hours later, they arrived at Titanicâs last known coordinates. Half an hour after that, at 4am, they would finally find the first of the lifeboats. it would take until 8:30 in the morning for the last survivor to be brought onboard. Passengers from Carpathia universally gave up their berths, staterooms, and clothing to the survivors, assisting the crew at every turn and sitting with the sobbing rescuees to offer whatever comfort they could.
In total, 705 people of Titanicâs original 2208 were brought onto Carpathia alive. No other ship would find survivors.
At 12:20am April 15th, 1912, there was a miracle on the North Atlantic. And it happened because a group of humans, some of them strangers, many of them only passengers on a small and unimpressive steam liner, looked at each other and decided: I cannot live with myself if I do anything less.
I think the least we can do is remember them for it.
Frankensteinâs Monster by Alexey Egorov
for J., who asked