yall think you want a viral post well just wait until you start getting a bunch of comedians giving you the same notification over and over again for a year
An artist, after spending years and years trying to find ways to draw as perfectly as his/her idol, they’ve found that the biggest “formula” is use their very own lifetime as the main inspirational source and, after all, nailing their very own style until they reach the very high potential of personal expression, until they do manage to express their deepest feelings and points of view in a more complete way, without needing to be someone else, without needing to interpret characters, without feeling like their personal style is shit and not acceptable to the “current art standards”.
Trying to be like those sponsored shit because it will only make you sad and far from your own dignity
((((I would get out of bed every 30 minutes to look at this picture and stay up until 6 in the morning watching the sunrise show. my life was never the same))))
((((((lmao is strange to think that after having a cell phone stolen while the other one stopped working, this one is still alive and breathing, although the screen does not emit any light. Good friends never leave you!)))))
well! I’ve published this short story in the fan site column where I also work as a Graphics Manager! (I think they will not mind if I post here too!)
Betelgeuse-Bound
Playing the omnipotent creature was one of Lisa’s pastimes. Finding herself in an absolute period of inner hassles and boredom (her father was on the outside, adjusting the central satellite that will probably establish the final radio signals from the Betelgeuse supernova, saying something, like “We are coming, Gorillas!!!“), she still does not understand very well why has the separation of her parents made her intrinsically inclined to live with her father, instead of living with her mom, at Earth, Gibblon, 7243 Carpenter Street, playing with a bile-coloured hose and – most important of all – classmates whose intelligence were higher than 100 IQ, made of flesh and bones. Up to the present time, the holographic friends that her father had thoroughly designed for her (and obviously to fuel his own satisfaction of constructing things that know how to speak HELLO, HUMAN after pressing a green button located behind the nape of their necks) were not interesting enough. What kind of 11-year-old human from Earth would spend so many hours openly arguing about hybrid genres (with occasional advertisements while they stop to breathe)?
– I…simply… pff… I do not understand… the scientific explanation … pff… that implies the existence of… pffbinary genres …
– Why do not we play Uno while this meteor shower goes on?
– (ACTIVAR MODO ESPAÑOL” BEEP!) Uno sería considerado… pff… el género masculino mientras que… pff… Zero sería, obviamente, representado por la mujer y…
– Let’s start over, Ashley. My name is Lisa and I have administrator rights to set you up so that you are one of my closest friends. What do you usually play?
– SPECIAL OFFERS FOR THE FIRST 15 PEOPLE CONNECTING TO FLOWER-PLAY, THE BEST DISTRIBUTOR OF HANDMADE WOOD VASES FROM THE SECOND HALF OF MILKY WAY. YELLOW, RED OR BLUE. IT IS NECESSARY TO ADDRESS BOLT SIGNALS TO 2@5 CL…
-Switch off “Ashley-How-Do-You-Know-Me-So-Well? Hologram”, please…
Another failed attempt at communication. When available to her, Lisa’s father often says that there is a combination of keywords that would make a human-hologram conversation much more natural and interesting, but finding such words would only be possible if he opened the circuit boards and read the manual that he accidentally forgot in there… and he is too busy saving the galaxy – one more time!
Now, even if for a single moment, it’s just the two of them – Lisa and that tiny blue sparkle – far beyond the strong window made out of neotempered glass. She fairly thinks it’s Earth, but it’s hard to tell as the universe is so… reddish, for some reason! Is it an illusion?
Situations like these make our Lisa think a lot, in a way she has never done before, as if a tragic clown had appeared in her pink room inside the N00DLE-ship and put on her nose a bag of helium gas (and only God knows what else) and made her get those sudden but pleasant daydreams… Perhaps it is just those space pills that ridiculously try to copy the turkey seasonings that her grandmother used to prepare, which her intestine refuses to accept fully…
Looking at the Earth from such a distance makes me reflect on many things I had never thought of before, on the extreme lines of our complete insignificance (but, thinking well, Daddy said that no living being is insignificant …) and how human intelligence has so far compensated for our relatively small size and made it possible for us to rearrange the full extent of that green and blue ball in a way that we could do a multitude of things, such as time traveling, matter generating and… spaceships, as the one I’m in, which makes me see Earth at such a long distance … so that its entire extension gains the inviting and funny shape of a single house… no, an anthill… so fragile that for a moment it is as if it could be completely malleable by my own hands, right now – heh!
Opening her eyes, Lisa was startled to realise that in some way she did not know, she was cutting through the immensity of outer space, floating alone in the purest pitch, unless you considered the spot of terrestrial light now located much closer than before. Ignoring the logic and the fact that she was breathing oxygen despite only wearing her lemon-coloured dress, she floated forward, as if she could reach the surface of the blue planet only a few seconds ahead… and that was what happened!
Perhaps because of lack of time or a moment of neglect, her father had NEVER mentioned to her about the fact that, thanks to the theory of relativity, humans grow in size to a degree of kilometers as they progress toward interstellar treks, and… now… thanks to a simple stumbling on the satellite that was exhibiting cartoons entertaining thousands of Japanese children (the Sun is shining on the far east side), the whole of Tokyo has been destroyed by her knees
Desperate, Lisa quickly unscrews her leg from a place where people would probably be drawing thousands of manga, traveling by train with those announcers saying “Mamonaku”, and cycling on those so-clear streets. She feels a heat in the bones that makes her laugh a little. Is it because of the volcanoes?
She watches a few fragments of matter flying through space and finds that the flock of objects (like ants) are the Japanese themselves, and then has the idea of closing in to examine the victims one by one in order to apologise them for destroy their homes. She calculates that Tokyo had about 5 million people, so she programs her cell phone (even though she does not remember having taken it from her backpack) to reproduce a female voice sounding “I did not mean it!” nine million times at full speed.
-I did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not meI did not me […]
The heat of the sun, now so close to her “little head”, made crazy ideas grow inside her. As if to justify the act, Lisa closes her eyes as she puts her fingers in the oceanic regions of the Earth, where there were certainly far fewer humans than on land, and begins to shake the planet, slowly, as not to hurt anyone in it of that nitrogen layer. Her attempt to be gentle failed miserably, and suddenly a scary mass of humans began to be tossed out of orbit. This makes her increase the number of loopings to her voice audio file to: three billion times!!
– I DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID NI DID N […]
Knowing that now the Earth is completely uninhabited and the turmoil made its whole surface washed with the drops of its own ocean, Lisa feels a little hungry, mainly because both her body and her stomach began to grow a little more, so that the planet was the exact size of a lemon bonbon. Without thinking twice or feeling the slightest remorse, she puts all the contents of the spherical matter in her mouth, and for a moment she thinks she is eating some sort of food that had all the flavours of the world on it. And, in a way, that was exactly it. Paradoxically, the warm occasionally becomes cold, the good turns into bad and the bitter sweetened after two bites. Indeed, it resembled a little the roast chicken she ate last week.
After swallowing, she thinks about all the seeds, plants, and microorganisms of various species that were still to exist in the world and she thought she owed something to them. After an improvised calculation, she increases the number of repeats in the playback of her audio file to three hundred billion and buys the premium version of the application for a higher playback speed.
Bored, Lisa decides to reach Venus, which is not far from where she is. But her body did not move anymore. It is kind of stuck in something; upon examining her back, she sees that the Moon still is connected to Earth (now, next to Lisa’s liver) and its gravitational power prevents the girl from advancing into the “air”. It is the most terrifying thing in the world, indeed, it feels like a nightmare. She imitates in vain swimming movements on the pitch black without oxygen to see if she is able to move a few miles, but has no success. She also feels something growing inside her, a very funny inner heat but also quite painful, like the result of a failed Tumo meditation training (as matter of fact, the only thing she remembered before she died of apnea was the wonderful flashes of volcanic lava coming from her ears and a pink spaceship flinging laser beams that tickled her belly but did not make them laugh!)…
“Wake up, baby, it’s time to start your training!”
And it was really a nightmare. Even motionless… Lisa can feel that her dress was drenched with sweat (which now floats in the gravitational field) and her breathing seems very agitated. It is not the first time that such a situation happens, but it is precisely in these moments that she feels entirely comfortable hearing the monotonous noise of the internal engines. The universe looks now even more reddish, seen from the spaceship windows, but it probably is just an illusion caused by the light bulbs. She is ready for another day of survival training and turns to say good morning to her father, who at last seems to have given up his projects to devote his rare attention to his crazy daughter.
But to her disbelief, instead, she sees a smiling gorilla with a “Welcome To Betelgeuse” sign. It would be one more of THOSE days…
Well, at worst, we could have the nerves to listen to the inexperienced ones even if only for a few seconds. They tend to have that spark of unintentional originality that normally disappears as the years go by and they mold into the square form of conformism and acceptance.
When I was a tiny kid, I kept asking if the maximum point of human character (mainly on the internet) was mainly a crazy transition where we always started with crazy ideas, unjustified dreams and sincere enthusiasm so that after some time of maturity we realized that it's not the best way to behave in the face of situations... instead, the best solution would be pretending we're invisible because in theory it's not cool that you feel happy about yourself or that you show enthusiasm about something... creativity is only useful when you are being helpful to people (or when you are trying to steal someone) and cultivating the magic inside you seems only a serious thing in the first 5 minutes when a sponsored account says what you want to hear! phewwww......
Fortunately, things do not work that way. Perhaps because of a sickly patriarchal system we hold in our heads for some reason, we see any display of love and interest and positivity almost as a sign of weakness and immaturity, and the best thing to do for a safer image is to maintain a more primitive behavior, serious, destroying the happiness of all, and they would even confuse this thinking that that is manifestation of intelligence. Bull.
In reality, we can not do much in our lives unless we have the nerve and perseverance of a character led by Bob Clampett
“Jesse…I’m so sorry, but I don’t think the egg I hatched is yours! I think it’s…” said a lady. The audience screams. The lady noticed Scrooge McDuck walk in and figuring she could get take him to court for millions said “It’s his!” Audience members start climbing up on stage and beating Scrooge up.
Let’s leave from here and lock that door . Or else we’ll turn minced duck.
YES. Take me that golden chair… uuh… gold…
*the door is kept locked for a while by the chair, tied to doorknobs*
Let’s go to the last door. Who knows? It’s a good tip. Hey. There’s something written here. “O. W. S” What means?
*opening door*
Er… Hello?
“And now, here in Oprah W. Show, we are being surprised by the unexpected visit of a great personality of Duckburg. Scrooge McDuck and a good looking gander, probably your slave.
Tell us about your life story. Their difficulties, first coin, possible loves, suicide attempts? “
Let me intrude. My name is Gladstone and am also extremely representation in this city. I’M NOT A SLAVE. Do not forget it. Sorry, but we have to leave. It was a pleasure, whoever you are. QUACK…
*Gladstone jumps to the ceiling (fright) so high that hits his head and faints A group of doctors appears. Try to use inspirators to Gladstone, but he does not awaken. Scrooge takes a bit of the one hundred thousand dollars to Gladstone inhale and nothing. Then, in an act of desperation, Scrooge leaves the building to search for a peculiar leaf. Then goes back to where Gladstone is and puts this leaf near your nostril. Gladstone wakes up immediately.*
What’s that smell? I dreamed I was earning some money and … What am I doing here? Really? You’re master station? WHOOOOOA THANKS …
…
I woke inhaling four leaf clover? It is a miracle.
*Scrooge and Gladstone leave the building. Scrooge looks much disappointed. Upon exiting the building, the lucky gander was to dodge brickbats and spits. When they get near the vault, Gladstone offered some of his money to Uncle:*
WE’RE LOOKING FOR “HABBO/GENERAL PIXEL ARTISTS” AND GRAPHIC DESIGNERS! :D DO YOU THINK YOU’RE CREATIVE ENOUGH?
Hey guys! It’s Lucas. I’m here again to show a great opportunity to you, I mean, if you’re a Graphic Design or Pixel Artist aficionado as ourselves!
Do you think you can do something as good as the images above (Using a simple graphic design copy and paste technique)? Or even better than that? Or maybe you want to learn it to spend your freetime with dignity? So it’s your lucky day.
We are looking for Pixel Artists (Inspired by the Habbo Style or even your own style) and Graphic Designers at Habbox (Basically a montage of several existing images that you can found at web), the oldest and maybe the better Habbo fansite. YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE A PRO GRAPHIC DESIGNER OR PIXEL ARTIST BECAUSE WE WILL ALWAYS HELP YOU THRU YOUR JOURNEY. SEND ME A MESSAGE AND I’LL PASS YOU THE LINK AND ALL THE INFO!
- JOIN A GRAPHIC DEPARTMENT WITH LOTS OF ART AFICIONADOS TO SHARE IDEAS AND MAKE NEW FRIENDS! POST YOUR ARTWORKS AND RECEIVE INSTANT FEEDBACK. And you’ll have the entire forum to explore also xo ♥
- SPEND YOUR FREE TIME WITH SOMETHING YOU REALLY LOVE TO DO. HELP PEOPLE TO IMPROVE THEIR WORK!
- ENJOY THE OPPORTUNITY TO SEE YOUR ARTWORK AT HABBO (Specially Badges Pixel Art)
- YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE A HABBO USER TO JOIN THE DEPARTMENT EVEN THOUGH IT’S A HABBO-THEMED FANSITE.
areudirty
jbbartram-illu
pixelskylines
andulkaphoto
theartofmadeline
kaledo-art
tangentwithtanner
romaincrisis
