New character I made for Taured. He can phase in and out of shadows: like, if he runs at a wall (or even walks), he can turn into a 2D shadow, which can travel at high speeds, morph into different shapes, and when he's done, he can just pop out whenever he wants to. His mouth is way bigger than normal; but for the sake of the rest of Taured's population, the government has sealed his mouth shut, side from a small section in the middle. The scars on his neck are not open and bleeding; they're just opening up to reveal a vibrant red energy within. Drawn with FireAlpaca.
Ever had to fight with the ants for your chocos? It's past mid night and while I ate my chocos and stayed awake to study, the ants end up stealing my chocos. The battle gets worse when they decide to attack me. Cherry on top is my curly frizzy hair. R.I.P hair wash day.
A couple of plant lovers, a sunflower and a cactus are holding hands, the sunflower wears a spikes collar, showing she has a preference for dangerous things, like his cactus boyfriend, they are perfect for each other.
This delightful black-and-white drawing captures the lively and playful essence of a whimsical animal parade. Bursting with creativity, each animal character showcases unique traits and expressions, bringing a joyful scene to life. From the adorable, tiny mice balancing on top of each other to the elegant elephants dancing gracefully, the artwork is a breathtaking celebration of harmony and fun in the animal kingdom. With its intricate details and enchanting charm, this piece invites viewers to step into a world of imagination and whimsy where animals parade with joy and carefree spirit.
...as my daughter says. Watercolour on watercolour paper. Mixing all the greens was real fun. I enjoyed every minute of creating this piece. And, of course, the first person I showed it to, found some fault with it...
free spots only sixteen people that comment who wants it for boys and girls UmU i got this from google but who wants this for a spot UnU ill do more of these to :3 so dont worry! but im still working on the stories -w-
The Dutch are experts at riding one handed while holding an umbrella or snack in the other hand. Although a good set of rain pants is much safer. From my Bikes of Amsterdam series.
Lords of War - otep
With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph. So help us, God
More wars on foreign shores
More names for us to mourn
To misguide the misinformed
To ignore the sick and poor
Thus, we praise the lords of war
On our knees and beg for more
A fresh poison for the weak
Filthy little beasts
Bred to conform
It's the dwarfed souls of greedy men
Feculent, arrogant
That shackles our young to the cold concrete
And empty their guns into bodies
They scream "I'm not guilty"
They scream "I'm not guilty"
But cowards here are only what they fear
Shoot until the threat stops
I'd rather be in battle than at peace
I'd rather be a wolf than a sheep
I'd rather be in battle than slaughtered like cattle
The weak can sleep while
You were born to be led
That's what religion says
With a bifurcated tongue
America eats its young
Bullet-toothed, empty gods
Paralyze the minds and contest the thoughts
With devils everywhere
Bombs bursting in the air
Drones flown over thrones
Of bone and brimstone
Sabers rattle in the homes
Of the cowards and the crones
As they shackle our young
Blood stains the streets
Pigs empty their guns in their bodies
Bow down to the lords of war
On your knees for the lords of war
Bow down to the lords of war
On your knees for the lords of war
We rise in defiance
We won't remain silent
To triumph over tyrants
And police violence
Shoot until the threat stop
We're not guilty
Help us God
The lords of war
On your knees for the lords of war
Bow down to the lords of war
What is so terrible about a child screaming?
Why should it disturb us?
Just because we happen to be there to hear it?
What about the child who comes from an inadequate home, where he gets no encouragement from his parents
Where he doesn't have enough to wear, he doesn't have enough to eat, he comes to school hungry...
This beautiful, breathtaking #embracingnightmares
Behind the Russian Church there is an abyss.
The moss and the rubbish are slippery and jagged old tins glitter at the bottom. For hundreds of years they have piled up higher and higher against a long dark-red house without windows. The red house crawls round the rock and it is very significant that it has no windows. Behind the house is the harbour, a silent harbour with no boats in it. The little wooden door in the rock below the church is always locked.
Hold your breath when you run past it, I told Poyu. Otherwise Putrefaction will come out and catch you. Poyu always has a cold. He can play the piano and holds his hands in front of him as if he were afraid of being attacked or was apologizing to someone. I always scare him and he follows me because he wants to be scared.
- Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson
#dailydrawing #tovejansson
An article/rant/annotation to an illustration. A #Hackney bar and its flies.
This picture is not as sad and blue as it might at first seem, I promise.
It is early in the week and the pub becomes the territory of the most outspoken drinkers. Raised somewhere between Churchill and Harold MacMillan, a night such as this is time for them to spin out a yarn of nostalgic fantasy. Encouraged by the lack of a crowd and with space to fill, statements start to fly.
In the opening rounds the barman athletically hits back with factual blocks and reality-check haymakers; statistics and personal experiences are given. Two histories cross examined, one where 1982 means Thatcher and the Falklands, the other renders Reagan and the AIDS crisis. Stoicism and national pride vs mental health and realism.
In the latter rounds the barman is fatigued, swaying on the backbar, glasses begin to stack up as form begins to drop. The older men seem stronger than ever.
The barflies come in close now, they scrutinise his generations work ethic and make wild political comments on poverty, immigrants and the minimum wage.
The barman is close to sheer bloody despair, he maintains his defence and focuses on breathing while maintaining his professional stance.
But at the end of the night the barman knows HE will ring that bell, they will politely leave and they will return again in a week and maybe, just maybe there will be a change, common ground or maybe at least polite silence.
But what these interactions have given despite the salt in the eye is community and an exchange between generations, culture and class of those participating. No home is ever straight forward, no relative without their good and bad traits and in a world where we often slide into echo chambers online or in our physical environments, the pub is still a place where society is family, face to face, pint to pint. Or maybe it's just a room with alcohol on tap?
