room

No idea where this title came from, but it works so...yeah. Also, new sketchbook time!

I wrote some words, cut them up and rearranged them. What else is new?

*writes a few words, masticates a few more he found reading Doctor Who books* An ode to the more saccharine yet saltier tasting things in life. Faff and fluff aside, find your own meaning folks.

In the end I began to feel weak at the knees and then I knew that soon it would be too late, in a few seconds it would be too late, so I let it fall into the gutter and began rolling very quickly and without looking up. I kept my nose just above the top of the stone so that the room I had hidden us in would be as tiny as possible and I heard very clearly how all the cars stopped and were angry but I drew a line between them and me and just went on rolling and rolling. You can close your mind to things if something is important enough. It works very well. You make yourself very small, shut your eyes tight and say a big word over and over again until you're safe. - Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson #dailydrawing #tovejansson

Grandfather was a clergyman and used to preach to the King. Once, before his children and his children's children and his children's children's children covered the face of the earth, Grandfather came to a long field which was surrounded by forests and hills so that it looked like Paradise. At one end it opened out into a bay for his descendants to bathe in. Then Grandfather thought, here will I dwell and multiply, for verily this is the Land of Canaan. Then Grandfather and Grandmother built a big two-storey house with a sloping roof and lots of rooms and steps and terraces and a huge veranda and placed plain wooden furniture everywhere inside and outside the house and when it was ready Grandfather began to plant things until the field became a Garden of Eden where he walked around in his big black beard. All he had to do was to point at a plant and it was blessed and grew until it groaned under its own weight. - Sculptor's Daughter by Tove Jansson #dailydrawing #tovejansson

In “I Love Lamp,” Ty Patmore blends nostalgia, humor, and subtle unease into a surreal domestic scene where time, space, and memory feel slightly off-center. A lava lamp—softly glowing with drifting shapes—sits on a worn wooden table, acting as the sole beacon of warmth inside a room that is quietly falling apart. The wallpaper peels back to reveal fractured brick beneath, as if the structure itself is shedding its old skin. A melting wall clock drips down the surface like time losing its grip, while a framed picture of a UFO drifting over pine trees hints that even the outside world may not be quite right. Every object bends reality just enough to make the viewer question whether this room is comforting… or unsettling.

Hi everyone! I am Cam. I like to make friends, and I am 18 and this is my OC of myself as a white anthromorphic cat. I am a Christian. And enjoy chatting in here.

Up on a hill, deep in Deadwood Lies an old shack, that fosters no good Inside this shack floats a very old being To seek it out, is to regret such a meeting A blue floating skull, who brings sweet promises of doom Sits all alone in a dark four corner room Why is the reason, this being is there Why does it beckon one to come near Its lonely and bored So it calls out to you The skull was once mighty and powerful too Causing great pain on subjects like you The beast of an age Caught by a mage imprisoned in here no longer to torment the world and spread fear But just being caught wasn’t enough It stifled its power but its will, was left uncorrupt The skull, now a seeker of dreams Destroyer of love, life, and of schemes #embracingnightmares

"Mask Up" by Ty Tatmore (2024) is a powerful and unsettling piece of contemporary social commentary. This work throws the viewer into a scene of post-apocalyptic anxiety where an individual, wearing a striking conical hairdo and a defiant "MASK UP" t-shirt, sits amidst the wreckage of a dilapidated room. The artist uses dark humor and surreal imagery to explore the cultural tensions surrounding public health mandates and personal responsibility. The sign "CHOOSE WISELY!!" acts as a stark warning, while symbols like the gas mask and the Scream mask and also wearing a mask suggest a spectrum of survival and fear. The massive explosion breaking through the window is a haunting, almost surreal symbol of the unstoppable outside forces impacting daily life. With its raw, graphic style and intense atmosphere, this painting is a memorable and thought-provoking statement that captures the isolation, uncertainty, and dark irony of living through a moment of global crisis.

For day 14 of Junefairytale, today is all about dreams. For this day, I decided to make Koya take a little nap while dreaming in a beautiful room filled with comfy pillows

Dance of the shrooms

I am very open to any way I could improve, please give feedback :)

This is a little doodle of Finn from Dandy's world on whiteboard fox :3 This is my introduction post on whiteboard fox: https://r7.whiteboardfox.com/post/349007 Also my blogs that I yap on and post more art: https://dustbunnyboy.wordpress.com/ https://puppysplayroom.wordpress.com/

Slice of life in a hotel room

Mushroom dance!

The finished piece of the first painting I documented for social media

It's a perfect day for a Portuguese Tart. My favorite one is from Showroom Bakehouse. Melts in your mouth and is a tiny piece of decadence.

Back to the Art Room

Mushroom in progress

Haven’t been uploading. Finished this in art class a few months ago :)

Ballpoint pen and ink in my watercolour sketchbook.

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.

https://www.instagram.com/p/C146AlyJhwN/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

A mushroom girl I drew.

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.