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SEARCH RESULTS FOR

rain

Bleu Hope Bleu Hope Plus Member
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“A Cure For 40 Daze Of Rain”, May 2024.

Summertime incoming… hopefully!

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Gabriele Go Gabriele Go
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Rainbow Mandala

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Bleu Hope Bleu Hope Plus Member
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“Data Brained”, December 2018.

Channelling my inner Trekkie, as it says on the tin here...

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Sabina Hahn Sabina Hahn
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Erik Satie

Erik Satie (1866–1925) In 1898, Satie moved from Paris’s Montmartre district to the working-class suburb of Arcueil, where he would live for the rest of his life. Most mornings, however, the composer returned to the city on foot, walking a distance of about six miles to his former neighborhood, stopping at his favorite cafés along the way. According to one observer, Satie “walked slowly, taking small steps, his umbrella held tight under his arm. When talking he would stop, bend one knee a little, adjust his pince-nez and place his fist on his hip. Then he would take off once more, with small deliberate steps.” His dress was also distinctive: the same year that he moved to Arcueil, Satie received a small inheritance, which he used to purchase a dozen identical chestnut-colored velvet suits, with the same number of matching bowler hats. Locals who saw him pass by each day soon began calling him the Velvet Gentleman. The last train back to Arcueil left at 1:00 A.M., but Satie frequently missed it. Then he would walk the several miles home, sometimes not arriving until the sun was about to rise. Nevertheless, as soon as the next morning dawned, he would set off to Paris once more. The scholar Roger Shattuck once proposed that Satie’s unique sense of musical beat, and his appreciation of “the possibility of variation within repetition,” could be traced to this “endless walking back and forth across the same landscape day after day.” Indeed, Satie was observed stopping to jot down ideas during his walks, pausing under a streetlamp if it was dark. During the war the streetlamps were often extinguished, and rumor had it that Satie’s productivity dropped as a result. - From Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey

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Josh Gee Josh Gee
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Art and its worth

and now, a short poem: "I am so close to the edge, I could just take a step, and leave this lonely world behind" ... thank you, and now back to our regularly scheduled fear-mongering and brain-washing, yay!

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Jason Heglund Jason Heglund
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20181207 // Foodle

I lost my train of thought...

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Tina Tina
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Untitled

Brains and beauty.

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Mary Ruth Butterworth Mary Ruth Butterworth
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Rainbow pencils are everything.

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Valeria Valeria
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Rainbow The Clown

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aMY FRaNCo TiZoN aMY FRaNCo TiZoN
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Because its Fall

Watercolor and metallic pens art journal fun when your brain is fried and it's only Wednesday.

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Sabina Hahn Sabina Hahn
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Wild Geese

Wild Geese You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting— over and over announcing your place in the family of things. Mary Oliver

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Joyce Rice Joyce Rice
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Rainbow Room

Looking forward to maybe someday hanging out with pals again...

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Scott Ries Scott Ries
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Rainy Day

Pencil Drawing

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John Sanchez John Sanchez
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Buster Keaton still

Late night (really late) watching the beautifully made silent film The General by Buster Keaton. I stopped it here when the bad guys climbed up on a moving train fixing for a fight! I used 6b pencil on Procreate

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Celeste Celeste
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Pen and Ink Rain Doodle

Pen and Ink Doodle Rain

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Josh Gee Josh Gee
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see this as a GIF in the link

https://www.deviantart.com/untitledhero700/art/in-the-downpour-859701604

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Tonya Doughty Tonya Doughty Plus Member
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Patience

Featuring handmade art by Washington state artist, Tonya Doughty. If you would like this design on an item not listed in my shop, please don't hesitate to ask if it's possible! Just contact me.

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Wouter Wouter
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Summer is over

The summer is now over. The warm and sunny days are gone. Ink on water color paper.

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stacey walker oldham stacey walker oldham Plus Member
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rainy pattern

pale blue rainy day pattern

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Robert Falagrady Robert Falagrady
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Brain drainer

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César Camilo Julián Caballero César Camilo Julián Caballero
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Profundulus

The Middle American killifish genus Profundulus occurs in most Pacific and Atlantic drainages from the Mexican state of Guerrero to the Chamelecón River in Honduras, with highest species diversity in southern Mexico. Digital painting. Genus Profundulus: P. parentiae (top), P. mixtlanensis (blue predator), P. oaxacae (mostly dark spots) y P. balsanus (below). More like this on my IG page: https://www.instagram.com/camilojulianc/

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Josh Gee Josh Gee
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Exile Trains Atton Rand to Summon his inner Chubby

Exile Trains Atton Rand to Summon his inner Chubby Thing

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kid tiki kid tiki
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Train From Watermelon World to Lemon World

Fruit, colour, health, wellbeing, humour

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Joselo Rocha Joselo Rocha
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Japanese Good Luck Cat with Rainbow

Japanese Good Luck Cat with Rainbow

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Valeria Valeria
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Paint 3D rainbow doodle

It's that time of the month again!

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Sabina Hahn Sabina Hahn
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Brambles

Brambles are lovely to sit in amongst the bees. And also they make a good shelter from the rain. https://www.instagram.com/p/CSpMKfXr00y/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

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Joer_B Joer_B
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Malik Twisting Pose
1/3

Malik straining to keep the twisting pose. Decided to leave this one as a slightly rough red Bic pen sketch for now. There’s something to be said about the energy found in the work-up drawing.

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WaterproofFade-Proof WaterproofFade-Proof
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Auren Portrait

Luminary Festival - Auren Farkis (Digital Portrait I did as a colour study) Crisp reverberating strings danced through the evening. Notes twisted and echoed up through the emerald, velvet tiers of Ridgedow Gardens. Dusk’s veil had long since darkened to a diamond-encrusted black, and Clarglow was alive with activity. Footpaths were choked with revellers that formed a river of light that coursed and pulsed through the park. Will-o-whisp spots of light also glowed among the neatly trimmed hedgerows and statues. Their magic-addled voices rose up, joining in with the music of the Luminary Festival. A young man, no more than a quarter of a century old, glowed brightest of all. A soft orange radiated from his eyes, and his veins pulsed a brilliant red. He was dripping in gold and gems. Over an outfit that somehow managed to be heavily layered and revealing at the same time, he wore a sheer cape, which was heavily embroidered with blood-red crystals that refracted his own light around him in dazzling, concentrated rays. It was such a dangerous colour of magic, but his expression was soft and dreamy. Excited laughter rose up as a clustered group shot metallic confetti skyward. Gold flake drifted down and settled into his silver hair, cheeks, and shoulders. No doubt he would discover the remnants of this festival in his home weeks from now. He increased his pace, stepping off the cobbled path to overtake the group, when one of their number split from the group. The coils of her dark hair were so saturated with gold that she looked like she belonged on a pedestal next to the other statues. She intercepted him, matching his pace. She snaked a long, slender arm around his waist and pulled him closer. She pressed her lips against his neck, leaving a wake of golden kisses up to his earlobe, where she leaned closer to whisper. — “Aurie, Luv, I know that look. Don’t tell me you’re headed home. The eve has only just begun. “ Her glowing eyes Locked with Auren’s, her grip tightening, slowing the both of them to a stop, causing a temporary blockage in the flow of people. “Overdid myself Mel.. you’ll have to –” –” Come with us to the reflecting pool.” She cooed, meeting his lips in an off-center kiss, smearing his inky wine lipstick. Momentarily, he allowed himself to relax. He considered saying yes. His heart pounding, he dipped his friend backwards gracefully, resenting that he had to leave. An itch in his left arm reminded his fuzzy brain that he was in danger. Gasping softly, he gently lifted Mella upright and spun her out towards her friends, who were growing impatient. He couldn’t make out their faces in the fuzz of the evening. “I can’t, I’m sorry Mel! We’ll talk later.” Before she could protest, he danced, spinning forward in a brilliant display of speed that ended in a stumble as he met a set of steep steps that coiled sharply upwards out of the park and onto the pink brick streets overlooking Ridgedow Gardens. The glazed windows facing the street were empty and blank… their occupants elsewhere, enjoying the festival. The empty buildings were like faces, judging him for his lack of zeal. Auren wound his way through streets and side streets, his pace increasing as he grew more and more alone. Finally, he was climbing a set of steps to his own front door. Smirking at the sight of it he reached down into the front of the bodice that held together the layers of his outfit pulling free a loop of keys that were on a long chain looped around his neck. Aligning it to the keyhole he struggled with the lock, cursing softly under his breath as it initially failed to cooperate with him. In the quiet black of his foyer, he latched the door behind him and stumbled forward, tearing at the ribbon that held the gleaming cape that draped from his bare shoulders. He let it drop on a black lacquered table. He reached up to unclasp an elaborate choker and tore his single, crimson glove down from his elbow. He pressed a gilded fingernail against a band of red ink encroached upon by a spreading corruption. Marginally extending beyond the band were sinews of mismatched muscle and skin; even his hair had begun to glow red. Pulse rising, he wrenched his rings from his fingers, casting them into the ever-darkening room. Precious jewellery piled under him until only the dimmest glow from his own veins remained.. Slumping onto the steps, he tightened his grip on his arm and twisted it ninety degrees. A sharp click of crystal against porcelain met his ears. The room was enveloped in black as his final stone slid away from his arm, rendering the prosthesis inert. He slid to his side, the sounds of the party below overtaken by his own gasping breaths, panic refusing to subside alongside his magic.

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Sabina Hahn Sabina Hahn
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waiting for the train

Some things I saw and drew but didn't share. A friendly dog who wanted to say hello, a bride and a groom on the way to the wedding waiting for the train (she wore plastic slides and had her high heels in the bag), a lost cicada, a book (Sula by Toni Morison was absolutely amazing). Oh and also using dry ice to make dramatic seltzer.

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Sabina Hahn Sabina Hahn
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Rainy day.

Rainy day. https://www.instagram.com/p/Cae85fsLsQN/?utm_medium=copy_link

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