i made a gift for my fellow americans. feel free to steal and put it wherever
Misplaced Lens Cap

Product Placement
Keni
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
KIROKAZE
No title available
RMH
hello vonnie

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tannertan36

Andulka

Kaledo Art
we're not kids anymore.
art blog(derogatory)
Jules of Nature
Show & Tell
Three Goblin Art

Love Begins

ellievsbear

seen from Argentina
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seen from United States
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seen from Netherlands
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@flipflap-flipflap
i made a gift for my fellow americans. feel free to steal and put it wherever
alright i’ll bite. who is kamala harris
(via Show and Tell - Imgur)
I remember reading this a while back, I’m glad it’s made it’s way to my dash again
things like this are more important than 90% of tumblr
bye im crying
This comic made me feel things!
Hey, the source is not credited properly, so I thought that should be mentioned here. The short comic is from volume 5 of “Flight” comic anthology series. You can get a physical copy if you want to support the comic! The comic artist’s name is Svetlana Chmakova. Please check out her other works “Awkward”, “Brave”, and “Crush” at the library or bookstore! Also available in the ebook version. They all appear in the cute style and the color palette like the short comic.
For a fun fact, Svetlana Chmakova is the same artist who created “Dramacon” and “Nightschool” manga. Also the manga adaptation of ”Witch & Wizard”!
Beautiful
we have GOT to kill tiktok/twitter self-censorship i just witnessed a grown adult say the word “smex” out loud to our professor
my poor professor was SO confused that she asked them to repeat themselves and they went “you know, like, blank . . .” and kept just vaguely gesturing until she somehow connected the dots. i fucking hate art school
god i wish i was making the shit i witness at this place up. my life would be so much easier if i didn’t have to deal with my classmates seriously arguing about fandom discourse in the group project chat
the price you think you're paying by going to art school: tuition, supply costs, etc
the price you're actually paying by going to art school: having to put up with the most brain-rotting terminally online discourse imaginable in real life
I had someone argue with me that it was problematic for me to have watched Frozen with my niece because I was encouraging her to become an emotionally abuse codependent sibling. I'm a senior and I've had someone else doing their senior thesis ask, genuinely, if she was problematic for doing her thesis on domestic abuse, because sometimes domestic abuse effects rich white women and they're privileged, so therefore her doing it on that is racism apologism. I've had to sit there and watch people say "unalive", "SA", "PDF file", and my favorite, "marital relations" (it only happened once but it's really funny) to professors who look at them in total despair.
Hamlet didn't unalive himself, he killed himself. Our Crime Prevention class is discussing sexual assault and pedophiles. The implication of this paper we're reading in Intro To Africana Studies is not about white settlers marrying and having gentle loving monogamous funtimes with slaves, it's about rape.
I genuinely do not see how I'm supposed to take the people around me seriously. How am I supposed to believe you have incredible insights into something you can't bring yourself to say? How am I supposed to look over your rough draft and not cross out the euphemisms and write grown-up words?
And I DO NOT go to art school! I go to Montana State! I'm in redneck country - remember when redneck meant tough enough to at least say words?! Not anymore!
Do you know how stupid I feel that I couldn't figure out that "PDF File" was supposed to be censorship slang for "paedophile"
I should chime in and say that if this sort of thing pisses you off you *need* to be vocal about it. Because, short term and short-sighted, this is just people being overly sensitive about plain language and carrying online habits to real life which is “cringe” and “annoying” or whatever.
But long term, this type of shit is what contributes to erasure and historic inaccuracy in the first place. And its the same mentality that allows people to think that censorship, thought policing and book-banning is okay.
Please don’t let corporations and social media companies’ affinity for ad revenue and web sanitation condition you into thinking that plain honesty, communication and reality is something that can be sugar-coated and dressed up into something easier to swallow. This shit is much more dangerous than you think. If you are talking to someone in real life and you catch them talking like this, you NEED to remind them, “Hey this isnt TikTok. You can say exactly what you mean. What are you afraid of?”
The Black Monarch’s Ghost - Created by Ben Turner
Here is the original box cover, for nostalgia’s sake.
this is actually maybe my favorite compusure of any drawing i’ve seen ever
Gav’s Tavern Hi, I hope you like this. It is different from what I usually do. Also it was a lot of work.
Attack the Block (2011) dir. Joe Cornish
hey you, young US voters, look at me, PLEASE read the *entire* ballot! like i cannot stress this enough
"race wtf of course we're gonna read the whole ballot why -"
because i live in a deep blue county in a deep blue state and there were 4 absolutely batshit right wing initiatives on the ballot. 'make any kind of policy or state spending addressing climate change literally illegal' levels of batshit.
i truly do not give a fuck how you feel about voting, because the people who want project 2025 to happen think its super neat and are organized and active and preventing them from getting anything done is way way W A Y more effective than trying to clean up a mess after they succeed
napoleon elevated the german people to sapience and they've made it everyone else's problem ever since. a gross historical mistake whose consequences have yet to be fully understood
the woman in the river shows me an axe of silver and asks if it is the one I lost. I respond that it is. she produces an axe of gold and asks the same question again. I shamefully look away, not sure whether I'm comfortable admitting that I was dual wielding
she stares at me in abject confusion as I take stock of my tools. a look of dissatisfaction brews on her face. "but why is one golden?" the woman asks.
I tug nervously at my coat, feeling the slightest bit insulted. "well, it's not cheap to have a matching pair," I tell her. "not everyone can afford two golden axes."
"why not two silver axes?"
"I had the money for one golden axe."
the woman crosses her arms. "but the gold is worse for everything you'd want an axe to do."
"it's not. it was more expensive and also really hard to find."
"gold" she says, "is softer than silver."
"it's literally not, though," I say. "that's a really common misconception, but pure silver is softer than gold."
"most metal sold as silver is actually an alloy. that axe is probably sterling silver. I don't believe for a second someone made you a pure silver axe."
I look at my axe, then back to the woman, then back to my axe.
"it was pure silver when it went into the river."
an unreadable expression. with a great splash, the woman disappears into the current.
for three days and three nights, I wander along the river's edge, hoping to find the woman again. I throw rocks, twigs, and once or twice a weird looking animal into the water. it's all to no avail.
on the final evening, I see a glint at the river's mouth. I run as quickly as I can, knowing I've finally found... oh for fuck's sake, it's just silver-plated. I lob the awful thing into the river with a huff.
"how can you tell?" asks the woman, peeking out of the water. "that could be the one you've lost."
"it's not."
"but you won't cut your losses and move on," she gestures wide, "one axe the richer?"
"that's too wide of a gesture for a cheap knick knack," I say, gesturing modestly in some approximation of how much I think the silver-plated axe is worth. the woman seems annoyed.
"I've been telling you, you have your real axe. the gold axe is the one that sucks."
"so what?" I spit. "are you suggesting I just use two cheap silver axes instead of my cool pure silver and gold axes?"
she groans. "I honestly would, man."
🌺🕸️ Insidious by nature, rewarding sick behaviour… 🕸️🌺
The best season of the year has oficially arrived! Hope your spooky festivities are fun this month and GOOD LUCK to all artists participating in Inktober or any drawing challenge! 🫶🏽
ig | prints | tshirts
The straight woman is unsatisfied with straight studio porn. She wants to get off to something in which the actors actually emote and show passion beyond canned moans from the women and, at best, vacant grunts from the men. She turns to gay porn. She knows it's not "for her," but neither was the straight porn, and at least the actors look like they're enjoying themselves. And for a short while she is satiated by Sean Cody et al, but she runs into the same problems she had to begin with. She was not looking at sex but a simulacrum of sex, trapped in Plato's cave. Unsatisfied, she turned to vintage gay porn, harkening to a time when most gay bars still had darkrooms and reliably smelled of piss and Amyl Nitrite. Here was the real thing, in all its animalistic passion. But she still couldn't immerse herself in the fantasy. She wanted the media to engage with her own imagination and meet her half-way, rather than having it spoonfed to her onscreen. She turned to yaoi, with its elongated figures reminiscent of mannerist portraiture, then bara, including hardcore BDSM scenes. But the tactile sensations depicted in the pages didn't do justice to their real life counterparts. She turned deeper into her own imagination, this time reading erotica. No, not the poolside paperbacks sold at Barnes and Noble. The good shit. Why then, was she still not satisfied? She dug deeper, searching for the true meaning of eroticism. She studied the psychoanalysis of Freud, the cultural criticism of Susan Sontag the feminist poetry of Audre Lorde. She took vacation time and flew to Europe, starting at the caves of Lascaux to explore the human urge to create, then traversed the Camino de Santiago on foot, along the way meeting a 56 year old carpenter from Burgos named Andrés, with whom she had an explosive affair. They both knew it couldn't last, which made them cherish each other's touch all the more. Upon flying home, she gave up. If her search for true eroticism never bore fruit this whole time, why would it now? It would take years before she stumbled upon the answer by pure happenstance: dubstep.
Your body must be rested and fed if you wish to be a pervert.
ok i regret not unmuting this earlier
the wailing phantom
"Scrooooge.... tonight you shall be visited by three ghosts..."