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lazyevaluationranch · 4 years

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I was wondering if you would be willing to share the titles of your resilience-inspiring lesbian farm books? My google search led me to a book titled “Attack of the Lesbian Farmers” which, while certainly inspiring, is not exactly what I was looking for.

Here are two very different books in the Farm Lesbians Write Honestly About What Went Wrong And How They Got Through It genre. Hopefully at least one is to your taste.

It's nearly fifty years old now, and can be hard to find, but Country Women: A Handbook for the New Farmer is deeply important to me. Country Women was a black and white xeroxed magazine written by a collective of woman-run farms in California in the 1960s. (There are some issues scanned at the Lesbian Poetry Archive). Each issue was half articles about feminism and half articles about small-scale farming. In the 1970s, the how-to articles on farming were expanded and organized to make the book, along with some scattered journal entries, lovely hippie-style line drawings and poetry about wood splitting, bees, and gazing at one's beloved while fixing the tractor on a summer day. The contributors have names like Jean and Ruth Mountaingrove, Ellen Chanterelle, and Sam♀ Thomas.

It's written in an informal and pragmatic style, mostly organic hippie farming, but using pesticides or conventional medications when necessary.

This afternoon the Anderson brothers began teaching me how to graft fruit trees - the careful joining of life with life. Even more than I loved gaining a new skill, I loved learning from two old men who have so very much to teach me. I admire the audacity of eighty-three-year-old men setting grafts that will not bear fruit for years: the total involvement in a process they love. Those trees will stand and live; I doubt whether Jake or Fred even stop to wonder if they'll pick the fruit. I want to live my life with that kind of harmony and purpose. I want to be planting seeds the day I die.

The first lamb was born today. Premature and dead. Olivia, the mother, seems to be all right though. I had a dream a few weeks ago that the lambs were born tiny (like mice) and pink. And that I struggled to save them, but they were too small to feed. The lamb today was small and pink, its fleece plastered against its body, thin and sparse. For a moment it was nightmareishly like my dream... This is my first animal death. The beginning of a long cycle. It seems even harder to have death come before life, than to have an old one die giving birth. Hopes for the future stillborn.

Driving home today, I suddenly realized that this really is going to be a sheep ranch, that I have done, and am doing, and will do it. That I'm making my livelihood from the land. The canyon is fenced now. There are sheep out there on pastures that were open hillsides two years ago.

The very act of building this place, the simple actions of tamping dirt, stretching wire, dumping hay in feeders, has profoundly changed my sense of self. I'm doing things I never dreamed I could do, and I'm doing them easily without even considering whether I really can. Last night I was talking with Susan about fencing the front meadow for feeder calves, and I realized that I could say that realistically, no fantasizing, no bragging: I can fence the front meadow as soon as I get done with the hay barn and get a little more money.

Like almost every other farmer in America today, I'm in debt and hoping for a good season. I'm only at the beginning now, and I know there are many struggles to come and overcome and come again: Someday I too, like my neighbours, will be counting carcasses killed by a marauding dog or watching the spring oats be wash away in an "unheard of" late storm. No matter how prepared I am, there us always that vulnerability - to the weather, other animals, disease - that seems to strike when things are finally going smoothly. But inside me there is also this incredible joy: This life is real and good, and it has made me strong and real and good too.

I gotta stop or I'll type the whole book into this post. One more:

My father is here this week ... working on the truck whose engine has been alien to me. I am learning now what I could have learned at 7, 11, 15. Beneath my truck, side by side, lie his seven-year-old son and his twenty-five-year-old daughter, both of us learning for the first time how bearings fit together, how to remove pistons. And here beneath this truck the patriarchy stops: he has passed his knowledge to his daughter, and from me it will pass to sisters, from sister to sister to sister.

That's this book. The things women weren't supposed to know in the sixties. They found people to teach them; they taught each other; they learned through bitter loss. The book says: we have gone before you and you are not alone. Here is what we have learned, and here is how we have learned it. We have failed, and we have wept, and we have gotten up and gone on, and it was alright. Here is the fire, passed from hand to hand to hand. Here is the light that will never be put out.

The week after we first got goats, we received a package in the mail from my coolest relative, a veterinarian who was the first woman to graduate with a specialization in large animal medicine at her school. People thought that women just weren't physically capable of handling large animals. (Hint: the bull weights 1100 kilograms. It doesn't much matter if the veterinarian weighs 50 kilograms or 150 kilograms.) I remember staying with her a child, in summer, laying on the stainless steel operating table in the barn; it always felt cool when the heat was unbearable.

The package, of course, contained Country Women. An old well-loved copy, with notes on long-ago calving dates penciled in the margins, and random scraps of paper with sketches of possible gardens and goat sheds as bookmarks. A light passed from hand to hand, a light that will not go out. It was like receiving a video game quest artifact.

Country Women is rooted in second wave feminism, which is not everyone's cup of tea. For something more modern and story-focussed, consider Hit By A Farm or Sheepish by Catherine Friend. These are collections of short, funny autobiographical essays about farming and relationships. Their tone is honest and wry, self-deprecating. You can see Catherine Friend's blog here and decide if you like her writing style. She wanted to call Hit By A Farm "Sheep Sex and Other Disasters" but her editor didn't think it would sell.

In Hit By A Farm, Catherine - a professional writer - goes along with her partner Melissa's lifelong desire to ranch sheep, and describes the results from the perspective of the slightly reluctant farmer's wife as they start a farm in Minnesota. Sheepish is written fifteen years later, when they're thinking about quitting the farm, after all the shiny newness of farming and the relationship has worn off. There are different mistakes then, different sorrows, and new joys.

From Sheepish:

We rarely pay attention to middles. Perhaps we ignore them because they're problematic. The middles of our beds often sag. The middles of our bodies sag. The middle of a long story told by your brother-in-law is likely to sag, and so you'll need another beer to stay focused. Everyone needs a reason to keep going when they're in the middle.

And:

Don't expect a farm to fix your life, for once the romance dims, you must still muck out the barn and stack hay bales and give that sick goat an enema...Although there are tons of stories about starting something new, there just aren't that many about how to keep doing something, about how to slog through the middle when the going gets tough.

The quotes are all from Sheepish; I can't find our copy of Hit By A Farm:

My spinning wheel continues to torture and confound me. I realize I'm not interested enough in the craft to really commit to learning it. After a few more tries, I tuck the wheel into a corner of our living room and turn it into what Melissa likes to call a Dust Accumulation Research Project. Clearly our wool market will continue to be the wildly unlucrative wholesale warehouse.

The patron saint of spinners is, interestingly enough, Saint Catherine. She was a Christian martyr in Alexandria. In 307 AD, she was condemned to be torn apart by the spokes of the wheel.

Well. No wonder.

Spoiler: things get pretty rough, there’s illness and hard winters and financial issues, but they do not, in fact, give up the farm or each other.

The book says: We made it. You will too.

#the-revolution-will-be-feminized

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indig0tea · 3 years

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Final 2020 Update: 2021 Goals!!

Cross posting from my devART

Also links to all my alts and shit will be at the end of the post if you need them!

So some of these may be unrealistic due to my struggles with ADHD/Depression Combo but. I wanted to get these down somewhere so you guys can see them and be aware..

Please note, my executive functioning abilities are absolutely Butchered on the regular by my ADHD alone, and the various stressors of 2020 have absolutely taken anything else I might have had in that department and tossed it out the window.

Something something something, financial stressors outside of my control sends me into shut down mode and I can't do anything productive or even fun until it's handled, but because I'm not doing anything productive, I'm not making any money, and the stressors gets worse and worse and it just ends up in a horrible cycle where I constantly want to die because I'm not able to create anything to relieve the stress! Which is why you've all seen... pretty much a standstill on my productivity save one or two pieces a month if I'm lucky

That said, I'm going to start trying (hopefully with some outside help/accountability to keep me on track while I'm unmedicated) to put a system in place that doesn't make me constantly want to die while like. maybe actually getting stuff done! So I'm making some optimistic goals for 2021 regarding both my art and ability to make money, so here goes!

I'm breaking this down into 3 parts:

Changes to expect regarding my social media, commissions in general, posting, etc;

Overall Goals for 2021;

and Goals for January specifically.

Changes to expect going forward from here:

I'm going to be making some changes regarding my social media accounts, including this one, mostly concerning when, where, and how I'm posting.

I am also going to be making some changes to my commission policies, prices, and payments in the coming year, namely:

Lastly, I will be making some changes to my art discord server!

Moving forward, I am going to be MOST active on my twitter and tumblr accounts. They're just easier for me to maintain in general, and although I hate twitter's formatting, it's just easier and faster, and frankly after deviantART and Instagram fucked with their websites/algorithms, it just makes the most sense for me as an artist.

I'm also going to be making an effort to make scheduled cross-posts on all my accounts. In the past, I've been really irregular about when and where I post things (most things got posted to my old tumblr account but never here, i rarely remember to post to instagram, etc).

This is going to include commission slots, finished piece dumps, etc.

I will also be making an effort to semi-regularly post sketch dumps, both digitial and traditional. I am also considering at this time offering a monthly digital download of my sketch collections, though I am undecided as I'm not really sure how many people would be interested.

Increasing commissions prices to reflect time spent working on specific commission types, as well as my personal cost of living.

Planning and announcing commission slots in advance.

Taking and finishing regular commissions to cover living expenses on a monthly basis

Payments will be exclusively through paypal invoice, and will be broken up in halves: first half will be taken up front after I have started and given proof of start (base sketch), the second half will be paid after completion, with WIPS given between first and second payment. Fully completed art will be given after receipt of second half. This is both for my personal protection as an artist, as well as for the comfort of the commissioner as my completion time can sometimes be long due to my ADHD/executive dysfunction.

Moving forward into 2020, my discord will be SFW, but 18+ only. This is a personal comfort thing. I'm 25 years old now, and just really don't want to spend time hanging out with teenagers.

I'm also going to start trying to schedule art streams again! Since this is the only place I can live stream due to my art computer's limitations, it just makes sense to like. Schedule them so more people are able to attend. I haven't decided exactly how that's going to look, but once I have I'm going to make an announcement and formatting guide somewhere for people to see so they can make an informed decision about joining the server.

I will also be regularly posting in the server again. This may or may not be cross posts from twitter and such, we'll see, but I DO plan on being more active there since it's been kind of dead.

I may also reformat the whole server again. We'll see!

Goals for 2021

Regular Adopt Sets -- 2-3 per month. Size, price, and number in set will be decided on case by case basis.

I'll be doing a monthly prompt for myself as well. This is just to get me back in the habit of creating things I like for myself to just feel... less bad about my art in general, and about making art. Also it'll be good for my artistic development i think?

Keeping a monthly sketchbook for warm-ups and in-between pieces. May be offered as a paid download at the end of the month, we'll see.

Might start a patreon? This is EXTREMELY dependent on what my userbase looks like. Tiers and rewards to be decided at a later date

Regular traditional sketches + scan and upload of said sketches. May also be offered in the monthly sketchbook.

Draw more self portraits & self-expression pieces! I don't know if any of yall realize how repressed I've been in the last year without therapy, and I did't either until I forced myself to pursue a vent piece earlier this month, and then felt immensely better afterward so. Going to start doing that! Maybe I'll feel better weee

Regular posting to social media! (see changes above)

Drawing less fantrolls bc I'm just bleh about them lately, drawing more original content!

Drawing fancontent that ISN'T homestuck? We'll see but I'd like to. I don't usually draw fan art bc like. Idk in my mind I don't feel like my interpretation of things is important or cool and I think thats a confidence thing and I'd like to change that so! I'm gonna start making more fan content.

Draw more full illustrations & backgrounds in general because I actually enjoy doing them it turns out?

Practice painting more !! Both traditionally and digitally....

Goals for January 2021

Finish at LEAST 1/4 of my art queue. I'm shooting for half, really, because fully completing it might actually kill me but! We'll see! Maybe I'll surprise myself. But I'm setting the goal low to keep my mental health problems in mind.

Finish and release the base set i've been working on, on and off. It's an homage to the old pixel doll days of 2009-2012, and the full sheet will be free to use (with stipulations, as I have some people blocked that I don't want using it). BUT! There will also be a mix and match .psd that will be pay to use (it'll be pay to use a, bc it'll be huge, and b, bc the edits to make it mix and match results in like 6 seperate bases in general so.... yeah. pay to use)

Finish the pay-to-use base pack i started in june (i may scrap and restart though, we'll see)

Possibly release all old p2u bases of mine in one pack on gumroad? price tbd but it will include old iterations as well as unreleased remakes.

Making some dainty-specific bases! One will be f2u, one will be p2u.

I have a whole dainty YCH set for january! I just have to finish the example... (:

Perhaps I'll be announcing a collaborative project later in the month! It depends on where each of us are at, at the time! We'll see! (: You should be excited though! It'll be a ton of fun!

EXTERNAL LINKS

Instagram

Twitter

Tumblr

deviantART

Discord server

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the-headbop-wraith · 3 years

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3_40 Dream Scape

There was a road. It went on for miles and miles, endless road among a forest of bare trees tangled against a half moon. The wind strummed its lacy fingers through parched branches, what little grass mingled beside the road, sighed as it bowed low. Stars dazzled the distant cosmos, as far beyond his reach as the end of the road he courted. It was a territory he was out of practice with, roads he recalled well but he could not ponder on the specifics of his relationship with a road. He set foot on the this subdued path and it replayed like a loop, no stone or shrub was ever the same, but the night always limped onward relentlessly. An eternal night that kept him shackled to a land in the perpetual twilight; teased him with promises of a reprieve within a daybreak that always rose and melted back into dusk. Half risen suns drowned in an inverted dawn.

By his impression roads were not meant to be this way. A new purgatory, fresh kindling to tend his carefully guarded heat, something about the air stirred him, made him slink deeper into the nuance of wandering. There was danger in testing boundaries; around him deep within the woods there remained zones he was not welcomed. But the road was modern and it had cut deep through the earth decades prior, a mile more. He could always turn back, that was a choice preference.

In the shrouded distance something awaited. It wasn’t there but it was, he knew it just had to be there ahead somewhere and the sense of it needled at him. Abruptly the sensation abandoned him altogether but by then it didn’t matter, he knew something tangible was there though he could not see it clearly, but he would arrive on it in due time. There was no hurry, how long had he been waiting? It was there and it would not leave, if he wouldn’t allow it.

Even when the sharp slit of light hit the amber edge, he couldn’t hasten his pace. He could scarcely believe what it was that he had come upon, and the sight of it briefly stumped him. There. THERE!

He did not go toward it immediately, but kept his guarded distance on the road and studied the slate of color, the self-proclaimed title that read out on its side MYSTERY SKULLS, bright colors exploding in his mind as if a maelstrom of colorful spectrums had never before been witnessed by his eyes. It was here, a van. THE Van.

The acuity of ownership, of belonging failed to taint him as he moved closer to the inert vehicle. It was a place, a mobile station that he had once shared in, yet it was a separate entity from himself. Another identity. Nevertheless, he reached his hand out as he neared, but faltered.

The rest stop was fifty miles out away from the nearest city, in the midst of jagged rocks speckled by sparse trees and stiff grass stalks. Several groupings of rocks blocked visual of the main road that bypassed the stop, the road itself was practically deserted but for the stray car that happened by.

Its late morning and the rising sun moves to hover behind a cluster of impacted rock that rests at the base of a high hill. A figure picks its way toward the utmost point of the mammoth boulders; its rich pelt is silhouetted by the bold yellow orb trembling behind it, a glossy red sheen coats the ends of its fur. It turns its head and focuses on the figures far below, seated upon a brick wall that chaperon’s visitors toward the interior of the large, gray stone building. Red eyes narrow and sharp teeth poke through the sides of the muzzle, the figure draws back its head and unleashes a loud yawn.

Cool wind prickled the ridge of fur that lined his shoulders. Mystery finished his yawn, as he stretched all the way down until his toes reached the edge of his perch and his chest was nearly touching the cool rock under him. He sat down and put one back leg to work, going to town on the bent and frazzled fur that had tucked into the edge of his ear. That felt too good, and he nearly couldn’t stop himself. Somehow, he managed. And picked himself right up and shook out his coat, his collar rattled in that amusing way it did that let everyone know he was just a dog. Plain and simple.

He adjusted his spectacles with a wrist and once again turned his attention, onto the surviving members of his pack. If he wanted to he could listen and be aware of what they were saying, but the topic was nothing crucial, remedial chitchat. They could do without his company for a while longer. He snapped his ears high and raised his snout into the breeze and sniffed. Leaves, roots, elk, some kind of feline – nothing to fret over. In these areas a case of abandoned beer or some other rubbish dumped by disrespectful guests, was the vilest threat that could be conjured. A shame that good people were far in-between and few, if any.

Mystery let his eyes linger a little longer on the two on the wall, talking. Satisfied, he began to pick his way down the backside of the boulders and crept back into a clutter of trees. No one was calling for him. They’d be fine for a few more minutes.

“We’re def. safe, since he only takes victims at night,” Vivi was saying. The computer was working again. Nearly fifty-two hours on the road, both batteries gave it up ages ago. Now was a good time to stop and charge them up. Except… “I’ve never heard of attendants with sleeping quarters.”

Arthur sat on the same wall several meters away from Vivi in the direct sunlight, and doodled in his ‘company’ notebook. “It’s his job,” Arthur grumbled back. Vivi was on the case, and her enthusiasm was becoming a national emergency as far as schedules were concerned. “We’re miles away from the nearest town, it’s the system around these parts.” Arthur directed his pen Vivi’s way, and slapped his hand down when his sketch pad began sliding off his lap. “He’s a government employee. That’s all.”

“No one looks that pale, ever,” Vivi said, hardly focused on the editing of the document. A half eaten ‘Texas sized’ cinnamon bun sat on its gooey wrapper, all of this perched on the side her knee; the snacks only companion was a bottle of iced coffee and a bag of popcorn (a ‘light’ snack). Vivi was ravenous when it came to her excessive sugar intake. “Unless he was some kind of vampire, but he’s out in the sunlight. Can’t be that, nope.” The rest stop attendant had given them a wave as he wheeled his beaten metal mop bucket away on the sidewalk outside. What little hair was upon his gray scalp was scraggly, his arms were boney and his clothing hung over his knobby shoulders; he sort of… slithered on his gelatinous brown work boots. “How long do you think cadavers can keep for? You know, people bodies? You know that stuff?”

Arthur gave Vivi a lopsided grin that revealed the teeth along his cheek. He coughed and tugged his vest a little more around his chest; no matter what Vivi said, it did keep him warm. “That’s not a thing I keep track of. I know how long a person can retain if they’ve drowned in icy water, but not post living stuffs.” He heaved over and snatched his notebook before it hit the cement below. With a smooth rocking motion, Arthur reseated himself firmly on the wall and flipped the page of the notebook over with his thumb.

The rest stop had a few external sockets under the roofs eave, near the glass doors that led into a visitors lobby where the bathrooms and concession stands were. The laptop was hooked up to one outlet, and a separate charger for the laptops additional battery was hooked up to the next outlet, while Vivi had the phones hooked USB hooked to the laptop. They’d save time, and Vivi swore she could finish the reports with this last charge.

“You’re working too fast. You use ‘down’ instead of ‘done’ a couple times,” Vivi mentioned, while pointing to the screen (as if Arthur could see from where he was). “Do you make these errors on purpose?”

“I’m an engineer,” Arthur muttered, with a shrug. “A little gratitude, thank you.”

“Excuse me Mr. inspiration only hits at four fucking in the morning,” Vivi taunted. For a few minutes she worked in silence, ticking at the keyboard on her lap. She sighed, and shifted the position of her legs dangling along the side of the walls edge. “If only,” she whined. She set the cinnabon onto the keypad where she typed. “If only this place had wifi, I could check if there have been disappearances along the road here.”

The pen Arthur had been using just leapt from his hand and rolled across the ground. “Geez, Viv.” Arthur tossed his notepad aside and hurried to reclaim the pen, before it rolled down the ramp. “I think I’ve had enough with disappearances for a while. Getting in too deep like that. I guess I shouldn’t… talk like that.” He examined the pen as he returned to his perch, a little closer to Vivi now. For a short while Arthur sketched in his note pad, a lot of his work was in pen and the bitter odor of the ink hovered around his head. Vivi was quiet for too long, and this caught Arthur, he stilled his hand from marking the page.

“I never really thought about this,” Vivi murmured. Her hands rest on the keyboard, her thumb picks at one of the keys. “Misplaced souls, lingering. That sort of thing. Maybe it’s just something spirits are compelled to do? I might be thinking this the wrong way.” She met Arthur’s eyes and frowned. “Did he… wander like this before?”

Arthur ducks his head from Vivi’s gaze and puts some meager lines into the side of one diagram and traces it, making the line thick. He shakes his head. “He didn’t… there wasn’t a reason for him to.”

Vivi resumes typing, laboriously slow now. “Makes me anxious,” she mumbles. “Like one day he’ll just keep walking. Won’t stop, doesn’t think—” Her voice caught, and Vivi swallowed a bit. She took a swig of her coffee drink and took a deep breath. “Kind of gets lost. What would we do? What?” It takes a second or two for the silence to get to Arthur. He sets his pen aside.

“Sometimes, y’know.” Arthur reaches up and touched the back of his neck, and nearly bites his tongue. “Sometimes, he gets overwhelmed. It happens. People do that all the time… it’s practically natural!” Vivi wraps her arms around her middle and frowns. “Look, hey. He won’t get himself lost.” Arthur scoots closer and sets his hand on Vivi’s shoulder. She doesn’t move but her eyes follow him, and she smirks at the edges of her mouth. “He won’t do that to you again. Even if…” This time Arthur is the one to choke, and he has to lean back and look away. “Even if you have to hunt him down or something.”

That wasn’t what he meant to say, but Arthur didn’t want to tempt… unsavory ideas. He drew his hand back and gripped at the edges of his empty sleeve with his fingertips.

There was so much scenery to see, always different, never the same. It made the hours on the road tolerable, it was part of what made the travel exciting.

Vivi had her camera with her, she rolled down the passenger window to take some shots of the hill valley below. The sky on their side was clear, but miles away low cloud cover and a thick fog had trampled the fields in the distance below, highlights of sunbeams accented bellowing flurries and vapor. Cold air rushed through the open window, despite it whistling through uninvited the interior of the cab retained a comfortable, warm temperature.

The radio bubbled with music, mostly it picked up static this far out from reliable towers. Around every hour Lewis would flick his hand towards the radio and shift the channel to a weather station, listen to the broadcaster drone out a forecast, then flipped the channel back to the former station. Whenever the backlash of static buzzed across the radio, Vivi would pause from sightseeing to shoot Lewis a curious glance. Lewis would smile her way, and Vivi would return the warm gesture, and go back to her comfortable little spot by the window watching the thunderhead pass.

It was cozy this way, being sealed up in their dry little shell. Miles away sleet swirled across the roads, the air would be mercilessly cold and brutal. The roads they kept on remained free of water or hazard; the pavement wound around bends and across metal bridges, and cut through a small town built into the hillside. They stopped for overpriced gasoline, restocked on some supplies, used the facilities, and off they were again.

In this segment of the endless road Mystery took occupation of the cooler back, while his companions stayed crammed in the front seat. Arthur needed a change of environment and sat in the passenger seat, with Vivi crammed between him and Lewis. Arthur updated a separate report and Vivi invested as much time as she deemed tolerable, in editing and assembling the joint document portion. She took frequent breaks to lie back on the seat and just stare at the stars. It eventually got to the point where she was nodding forward, and Lewis was trying to keep her head up with one hand, least he condemn her face to smash onto the keyboard and do unredeemable damage. Arthur saved the document before Vivi could break the laptop, once this was all done Vivi retreated into the back with Mystery. There was bumping and a groggy whimper, before Vivi had nestled down herself. Lewis lowered the radios volume, and drummed silently on the dashboard as he scrolled through the stations for something instrumental. He could perhaps coax a station from somewhere distant, that should be possible for him?

The hours remained tranquil while the craggy road whirred on and on, its extent inexhaustible. White pools dotted the landscape around them, the high beams of the van would occasionally glitter over frost on trees that hovered beside the road; the world was different in the headlamps of the van. Different in the lights of this vehicle, the van.

Traffic picked up or trickled out as they arrived, and abandoned the larger towns in turn. On the open road fellow travelers became scarce, and the beauty of the night could be witnessed. The stars receded to the vibrant colors of dawn, runny maroon light crept over patches of thick woods, a pale fog rippled among the bare segments of meadows and open farm fields.

Lewis glanced over the headrest and checked the back. Vivi was curled up in a sleeping bag, with Mystery tangled up in the same blanket and Vivi’s arms. It didn’t look like Mystery minded. “When was the last time you slept?”

Arthur twitched somewhat to the sudden, even faint voice, when it alit on the close quarters of the cab. He relaxed after a moment but said nothing. He pulled the edges of the blanket tighter around his shoulders and shifted his legs. Lewis hardly moved at all, except to accommodate some sort of body posture or to make room for Vivi. It kind of unnerved Arthur. “Before we stopped, yesterday,” Arthur mumbled. “I sleep when I’m ready.”

“You’re not tired?” Lewis reached up to the overhead visor and flipped it down. “Not good for you,” his voice echoed, warning.

“I feel all right.” Truthfully, Arthur hadn’t slept the previous day either. “It’s beautiful, the colors.”

“Yeah.” Lewis picked at the sunglasses in the cup holder. He didn’t want to push Arthur a whole lot. “I really messed up, huh?”

Arthur thudded his brow on the cold window and watched his breath fog over the glass. The lights of some town they bypassed, sparkled in the distance with paling colors. “Lew, when I… not that. Um.” He reached up with the blanket, and began wiping little sections out of the fading haze in the window. “I’ve had a lot on my mind, lately.”

Lewis’ voice hitched, like it popped into the radio and out. “Hm. Since when don’t you?”

“Heh.” Arthur’s medicine was in his bag in the back. It didn’t help a lot with his throat, but he liked to think it kept him awake. A series of low whimpers came from the behind them, it was probably Mystery. It was hard for Arthur not to feel sorry for the hound. A random thought trickled into Arthur’s head, and he snorted with the chuckle. Lewis looked his way, maybe startled but he didn’t inquire. “Sorry,” Arthur snickered. “I was thinking of something. Do you remember that one case, the one where I was begging Vivi: “Please, please. Save the villains?’” Arthur gagged a bit as he sniggered, his nose stuffy.

SAVE the villains? Lewis couldn’t picture any of them actively making an effort to save those kind of people, if he was rolling on recounted experience. He shook his head. Nothing specific came to mind.

“It was the one in the state park that was closed to visitors, and the archeologists… lemme think. I know… villains, it sounds really hokey, but I panicked,” Arthur mumbled. He rubbed his thumb on the edge of his blanket. “It was kind of a neat job. Sacred artifacts disappearing from a just as sacred temple, no solid evidence to who the culprit was, no suspects; I think the lore went that the local god – this bear demon thing – was showing up to punish trespassers. That thing was terrifying, actually. It showed up and scared the students, none of them could figure out how or where it would vanish off to. None of this ringing any bells?”

Lewis cocked his brow at Arthur. “I don’t see how that would make you laugh. Though, there must’ve been something that happened…?” He waited for Arthur to continue. For a while Arthur sat staring out the window, collected, watching the sun tease gold tendrils through a low hanging haze.

“Something about rival archeologist camp, stealing artifacts to sell off to highest bidders,” Arthur said. “It took us a while to make progress… those guys. They figured a way of using the ancient aqueducts to get around, but they were like a maze and people had… gotten lost in them, a lot didn’t make it out.” Arthur went silent when Lewis picked up the sunglasses and put them on his face, effectively blotting out the bright gleam of his ember eyes. Arthur folded down a little more in his seat, fingers tugging on the pinned sleeve of his shirt. The thing that always shocked him about that case was the nightmares. Arthur didn’t dream a whole lot about the demon bear, but he had a lot of those wandering dreams. The ones where he stumbled into the underground water tunnels, and got lost forever in the dark, the cold. He shuddered.

“Did Vivi… well, Vivi always does the Vivi yes thing,” Lewis replied. Once she got an idea in her head, there was no telling what would happen.

Arthur nodded. “Y-yeah.” That’s how it went. Vivi did the one thing the group was not supposed to do, and ran off on her own without a word to anyone. Inspiration struck, and she was going to slap it back or something. Thankfully she had not disappeared into the aqueducts beneath the temples, Mystery found her scent easily enough and it led deep into the pine forest. “There was this little hidden road way out there,” Arthur continued. “Almost washed out and tricky to hike. We sort of ‘commandeered’ one of those little off terrain golf carts they had for the tourists. I can’t believe we did that.” Arthur maneuvered his arm a bit under the blanket. He wasn’t cold, but it helped him to have something covering his shoulders.

“Are you sure you didn’t catch this on TV or something?” Lewis said. “I think I’d remember dealing with a demon bear and artifact smugglers.”

“This was one of our cases,” Arthur insisted, through a half yawn. He quieted when Vivi murmured something in the back, probably shifted. It didn’t make sense that Lewis would be the one unable to recall the case, he was the one that was gung-ho about scouring the woods until they found Vivi. Not that Arthur wasn’t impartial to turning the entire forest upside down to find their lost teammate (and leader), in fact he was more afraid of losing her than the possibility of running into the demon bear out there. It was a crisis.

“It was hard keeping up with Mystery,” Arthur went on, softly. “We did find their camp though.” The smugglers operation was well organized, and they had old military jeeps that they were loading up with acquired artifacts. That wasn’t the problem though, the problem was that they did find Vivi was there but she was unconscious. “And you… lost it. It was spectacular.”

“¿Es de verdad? Not making this up?” Lewis inquired, once more. “I can see Vivi charging off on her own and getting into trouble, maybe. Usually though, you’re the one that gets nabbed.” Lewis raised a hand up to his plush hair, presumably to smooth the pompadour back but stopped. Briefly Lewis glimpsed his palm before he set his hand back onto the steering wheel. “You stop to look at something shiny, or it has moving parts. You— but you, well, you don’t pay attention a whole lot when you should. De la solapada.” It wasn’t a challenge to get them all separated, especially if something big and disputably hazardous was chasing them. Lewis had never really given that consistency any sort of consideration, until now of course. Huh.

“There was no intriguing machinations to tickle my fancy way out in the boonies. This time, I stayed with the group,” Arthur grumbled. “One of the times I don’t get kidnapped and you conveniently forget. It used to be one of our favorite cases too. We took a lot of pict— Mmm, there was a lot of folklore and exploration. Vivi got caught up in it, I guess that’s why she took off like that.” Arthur also didn’t want to mention he was kind of taking it easy after having stitches put in from another incident. He felt like a burden on this case. “She loves that stuff. Anyway, you saw her there, so you bombed the heart of operations and went after those guys… some of them even had guns. I was terrified. You - Fucking berserker mode: Unlocked.”

The corner of Arthur’s mouth pulled back in a grin, and he elevated his hand like a sort of table. “I was under a jeep, and when I looked up at the commotion I see you with a camp fire at your back. You grabbed this big cast iron skillet, the really big thick ones that weigh fifty pounds. You went all Star Wars on them – except it was a skillet and not a light saber – and grabbed part of this tent in your other hand.” Another little giggle burbled out of Arthur as he interchanged hands, between pantomiming Lewis elected weapons. “Skillet, tent, and when you started taking down those guys, they started to panic and most were trying to book it. Mystery, he snagged some sort of sacred urn thing – it was kind of important later, but they thought he was gonna eat it I guess, a bunch of them were chasing him all over the camp. Utter chaos. This was going down, and I caught up with Vivi and was trying to wake her up. I kept saying… “‘Vi. Vi. You gotta wake up now, sweety, the villains need saving.’ I didn’t know what else to call them, kooks?”

The music cuts off as the radio buzzes with static; it makes Arthur twitch in his seat. “Oh wait,” Lewis said. “I think… weren’t they trying to get the bear demon out there too, when all of that was happening. They wanted it to – I dunno – mortal combat with me, so some of them could splint with the artifacts they could.” He direct a finger at Arthur, and smirked. “Usted. Puedes echar poco, you sabotaged the engines, didn’t you?”

Arthur made a gesture with his hand and tugged the blanket back up over his shoulder. “Anyone could do that. I just did it without getting caught… for once. The movies make it look simple.” He pulled himself up to look in the back and check on Vivi, still sleeping. “It was either you or me, but I wasn’t about to trust you sneaking around. They’d be like, ‘Oh, an eclipse! The end is neigh, we should have never finagled with the sacred burial site. Wait-wait, no. What is that?’ Then I’d be the one with the skillet light saber and a tent flag. Was that your plan? Or did you just improvise?”

“My story was gonna be, ‘I’m the new guy for the bear suit.’” Lewis turned the volume down when the station chewed the static. He was sure he wasn’t responsible for that. “Admit it, it could’ve worked. If it worked and they put me in that suit, I would’ve been unstoppable. ‘Dangit. Another guy didn’t read the instruction manual.’ I would‘ve warned them I needed extensive practice beforehand, but they could film me and it’d get Vine famous.”

Arthur sniggered in his throat. “Vine famous? Oh, you hit your head there pretty hard, huh?”

Lewis reached a hand up and brushed aside some of his bangs and touched his forehead. “Jeez, you nearly fainted. I told you it wasn’t bad, head wounds just have a nasty habit of over bleeding.” He swept that hand across his chest and straightened out his ascot. “Ruined my favorite shirt though.”

“Dude. Dude. Spoiler.” Arthur held out his hand and paused. Lewis looked Arthur’s way and waited for him to continue. “It was identical to all the other shirts you own.”

“It was new, that’s the key difference.” Lewis stiffens a bit, and kind of tilts his head when he looks at Arthur again. He fidgeted, slipping his hands up to the top of the steering wheel and tightened his grip, the plastic crinkles in his fists. Lewis checked the back, then returned his eyes to the road. The asphalt glistened with tones of cinnamon, transparent purples and deep blues ripple as the light singed the darker tints. A thin mist hung over the tarmac and coiled through the shrubbery nesting beside the road.

“You could have done part time for the Fred Fazbear’s,” Arthur mentioned. A chuckle lingers in his throat, Arthur winds up wheezing into the fold of his blanket. “Traumatize the little kids.” A little shiver coils up Arthur’s spine. He turns to a quiet Lewis. “Um… that demon bear suit was infinitely less terrifying than those animatronics. Safer too. They would’ve adored you. Especially your sisters, they always love it when you bring home a souvenir.” Arthur snapped his mouth shut, his teeth made an audible click. Lewis was absolutely silent and somehow, it was more unsettling than a disinterested Lewis.

Arthur sank down into his little ball and rested his cheek on his knee. He pretended to sleep, even if he didn’t want to. There was no way getting around it. There were many things that even a skilled mechanic couldn’t fix.

The candles lit at his passing, the flame twinkles briefly before the crisp draft of the hall snuffs the light out completely. A deep, impenetrable black fog hovers in the depths of the corridor, but at his approach it coils back, receding further back through the seclusion that he cannot reach. This arrangement seems to benefit them both, but he is careful not to hasten his pace. There is little to see at all, only a hall and a hall, continuous. It felt like he had traveled it for years, though he knew that was impossible.

There came a corner and around its side was a staircase. His hand slid across the polished banister as he moved by, gaze focused up into the dank shadows above and their secrets. Roots slithered down from the upper steps; the barest shimmer of candlelight gave an eerie sheen of red to the barks thin veins. It was difficult to make out but he was almost certain there were branches too, bent and curved down from the ceiling. That didn’t make sense, they did have trunks.

A black rock coated the floor, smoothed and polished by centuries of rolling water droplets. The room he was within felt confined, a small table stood beside him with a small candle atop; there was nothing else. The light the candle offered did little but provide a small parachute of illumination, there were still walls but no more corridors leading nowhere. It was just a room, a large suffocating room filled with dark. Someone had traveled the world over twice, collected up all the unsettling shadows that they could wrangle, and stuffed them into this room. It was oppressive.

From the coarse murk surfaced a wall, an unremarkable wood wall. At its base rolled up a corroded metal rail track that disappeared beneath the wall. There was nothing else of interest in these odd features, he knew he had seen it before somewhere and that’s why it was here. The candelabra on the wall flashed with instant radiance, and faded in the same breath as he kept on his way without pause. He should’ve felt something for the brief snuff of light, but he was numb to it. His whole sense of self felt drawn back, displaced. It was that same sensation as slipping into sleep, but without losing awareness. He swayed.

A door slipped in under the sudden pulse of another candle. The flame steadied and the door stayed where it was, in the wall, watching him. It felt like the door was watching him, waiting for some kind of action. Its surface was chipped and tinted red, a black etch was burned into the upper half. From it came a kind of foreboding regret, the sensation of it was so strong he had to pull back from the edge of the candles dome of light. It was something almost physical, almost visible. He waited listening to the distant hum, his own heartbeat, on the stale air. The door awaited his decision as patiently as any regular door would.

Without further hesitation, he reached for the tarnished handle, it didn’t need to turn, the door opened smoothly and he crept forward. Another room, smaller, he couldn’t tell. The door hissed shut against his palm and he chanced a look back. A candle sparked beside his shoulder, its light illuminated the glossy surface of a black pool at his feet.

“You fell,” said a voice. “You fell, and I pushed you.”

When he spun back, there was no one. Across from him was a corridor, a lone candle blazed atop the desk by the wall. He rushed in its direction, and towards the light.

#msa #mystery skulls animated #mystery skulls fanfic #mystery skulls fanfiction #msa fanfiction #msa lewis #msa arthur #msa mystery #msa vivi #msa ghost #mystery skulls ghost

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artandhuddle · 5 years

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Artist Interview with Daphne Hutcheson

Last week I had the opportunity to speak with Daphne Hutcheson, an artist I’ve admired for quite some time. Her work and knowledge in the arts has helped me, along with many other artists in the online community.

Daphne Hutcheson, also known as @paperwick on social media, has been creating artwork from a very young age, with works in both traditional and digital media. Her work covers a broad range of fandoms, original content, and client based works along with some very useful and resourceful tutorials.

K: I wanted to first ask about your experience attending SCAD (Savannah College of Art & Design)?

D: My experience at SCAD was tepid at best. The teachers were good, but I mean very specifically the professors who were teaching in my major, which was sequential art. SCAD is really not a great institute for anyone who isn't rich enough for their parents' to cover the cost. That's my biggest issue with it, they will cripple you with debt, so if anyone is lower-income, I would highly suggest learning via some of great online courses or using a state college's art program to sort of direct you if you need direction and deadlines. I know I need them. SCAD's loans are no joke. The college itself was very good my first year, they do a lot to make sure incoming students feel heard and welcomed, and then after that they really don't try for you. As soon as you're a sophomore, they could care less about how you feel to be there. Their class attendance requirements are grueling and there's no room for accidents--you miss four class sessions and you fail the course. It's wild, and even if you're in the hospital, those absences will not be forgiven. If you're late, it counts as an absence.I don't recommend it. At all. All the learning I garnered there is online accessible these days, one just has to hunker down, find it, and put it to practice. My professors were great, but no education is worth that price tag. Depending on your major there, you will be treated differently by the school. For example, their fashion and fibers majors are doted on, whereas a major like animation is ground hard into the dirt. There were unrealisitc deadlines to meet for class projects and kids would be in the school buildings overnight trying to meet them. Some fell asleep in their chairs and Paula Wallace (the owner) saw that one day and had them replace the chairs with far less comfortable chairs. Some kids had heart attacks from staying up to meet deadlines. Such a bad work culture of "all-nighters". In part the students' fault, but none of the faculty really stopped it or discouraged it, save one teacher in a different major, and that being said, that teacher still gave ridiculous deadlines so we'd "be prepared for the industry". That's not at all what the industry is like (discluding the game industry right now). It is truly a hard place to thrive and everyone I've known who has graduated had months to years of burnout after finishing, including myself. I'd hazard real caution when choosing to go to a private art college, art institutes included.No education is worth that amount of debt.

K: Wow, that’s unfortunate to hear. I wonder if students are having similar experiences at colleges such as CAD or RISD?

D: I have heard very similar things about places like RISD and CAD where it’s all about the money, but I can’t point you towards any of the specifics. I really just want people to go into it with a clear head and know it’s going to be hard exiting. They really don’t prepare you for business.

K: What would you have done differently? Would you have signed up for online courses?

D: If I was to do it over, I would have liked to dive straight into developing personal projects, just making the work. Watching and reading free youtube videos and blog posts by artists. That would not have flown with my parents, they’re very by the book “go to college or get a job” type people. With than in mind, I would’ve gone to the local college I was within biking distance of as a sort of clean, and done fairly half assed studies by full assed my artwork.

K: That sounds like what a lot of artists, particularly those interested in digital art are doing. But, have you ever considered going back to school, or enrolling in a program or an atelier that you think would be beneficial to your art career?

D: Not genuinely. If I had time, I wouldn't mind enrolling in something that would teach me puppet animation, but between freelance and my day job, it's hard to find time to produce personal work and then also learn. I am pro-learning, always learning because that keeps your work fresh, keeps your mind sharp and ready to switch up on a dime. But course work is something I'm not super fond of, to be honest.

K: I understand. So, you've graduated and are currently doing freelance work along with your other day job. In your freelance work, what kind of work are you taking from clients?

D: Mostly I do storyboard animatics for a few advertising agencies, but I do some card art for games here and there, like Companion's Tale. I just signed on to do some tarot card artwork for a company called Legacy: Fables. I'll take anything that sounds interesting and that I have time for. It's all digital; traditional art is way more personal for me so I almost exclusively make traditional artwork as gifts for friends.

K: Are there any particular fandoms or genres that you tend to work more in?

D: As far as fandom work and commissions, it's Dragon Age all the way BABY! It's a good community and I owe a lot to them. I'm planning on reopening my tarot commissions here soon once I finish up a few of my freelance projects. I am an old hat with fantasy stuff and most comfortable there, but I really want to start working on robots and mechanics and cities. All that sci-fi goodness.

K: Wow, that's great to hear you've got very steady work, and they’re with industries and agencies! I hope you'll get to share that work once it's gone down the production pipeline. Have you ever considered applying for work with a company like EA/Bioware?

D: Yeah! I've lucked out a lot, it feels like all of this sort of dumped itself in my lap. My biggest resistance to applying to Bioware or any gaming industry position right is rooted in how they treat their workers. Bioware, specifically back when Anthem was released, had a nasty report come out on how management had run their workers to the point of many having mental breakdowns, and several just leaving and never coming back. They refer to those who have breakdowns while working during their months and months of crunch as "stress casualties", and I'm honestly quite disgusted by what I hear. I think once the gaming industry unionizes I'll consider applying, but the things I hear, not just about Bioware and EA... It's horrifying. Riot, Blizzard, Activision, Treyarch, Rockstar... the list could go on. Not to like tank the conversation into a dark place, I just have such strong feelings about it.

K: That's ok! It's good to hear different perspectives, especially when talking about the industry. Alright, on to the next question. Looking at your work, from sequential narrative to tarot artwork, I’m really impressed by your storytelling. When you’re creating stories and characters, do you pull a lot from your own experiences and emotions, or more from other sources such as music, film, or literature?

D: Ahh that's a hard one. I think I pull far more from outside of me than inside of me.The way things are shaped comes from my own experience, but I think a lot of my content comes from outside influences, like movies, books, music, and art.Howls Moving Castle, the book not the film, had a huge affect on me and how light I want the stories I tell to be, but I think I have a long way to go when putting stories together.I am super empathetic so it's easy to take outside influences and really feel them, but also it's hard to tell where I start and those influences ends.

K: Very well said, and the comment about the novel, I can really feel that in your personal work, especially your recent animated landscape piece.

D: Thanks!

K: The first time I came across your work was one of your Dragon Age tarot works, but also the tutorial on how you created them. It was incredibly helpful to me and I know to lots more artists. Your tutorials and words of advice have proven very successful, but have you ever received any advice or tutorials that really switched gears or level upped your techniques?

D: The answer is yes, absolutely. Let me see, I don't seek out tutorials anymore, but there was something I saw recently that was good. Sinix's head from any angle is a great approach to drawing faces at crazy angles. Also, check out Bunabi on Tumblr. Bunabi is so fast and her work is beautiful, and has great tutorials also, just incredible.

I unfortunately can’t link to any specifics, but tutorials like this one do me a lot of good.

People can just screenshot process stuff that reminds me that there are a million ways to approach art, like sketch up, grids, freehanding. I think I benefit from understanding that there are a million approaches more than following the tutorials super hard.

K: Great,thank you! I wanted to ask a few more questions, one about your Patreon. It seems like the next big wave for digital artists. How has it been creating one and keeping on top of the awards, and is there anything you would want to do differently with yours?

D: So Patreon is kind of a basket you can fill with prizes, maybe some of the prizes for money (probably prizes for money), and that works for a lot of people. I have a more of a "here's content I don't put elsewhere if you'd like it" approach to it cause I'm inconsistent with patron pay-outs. Patreon for artists with chronic mental illness is a struggle. Hands down. I started one hoping it would iron out my discipline issues a year or two back, and it didn't. It made me feel hella guilty cause I could not keep up with what I said I'd keep up with, and then I felt worse. It was disastrous. I refunded most of the pledges I got during the three months I had it open. Then I closed it for a year and brought it back online recently. Now all my content is free, it's still inconsistent, but if people want to support me I welcome it. I think Patreon is a good platform, but I will never be able to use it is intended. I respect the people who can keep up with it all, that kind of discipline takes a crazy amount of strength of character, but I don't motivate with money very well. In the end, I motivate through helping others as best I can, so it'll always be free content. I have very few plans for it, other than I want to put together a brush pack and share it there with brushes I made. I just need a moment to sit down and make that happen. I've got a tutorial for using photos to make quick painted backgrounds too, and I just have to organize that sucker.

K: Thank you for being so open about it. I think what you're doing is so insightful and helpful in what you're offering to your followers, especially those who may also be struggling with anxiety and depression.

K: Can you share what your process is like from a sketch to a finished piece? Do you thumbnail a lot before, use references to build from, and so on?

D: I like to do throw away thumbnails on notepaper.

And then I take those thumbnails and do a more thought out version digitally.

K: Wow, these are both beautiful. If you don't share these with patrons already, I would! I also like that you've given each one their own color, a good way to organize!

D: Thank you! I'll make sure to share these, I forget about them genuinely. I'll diverge in two directions from here depending on need. If what I'm working on is simple, I hop straight into color. If it's going to be complicated, ie crazy armor, specific architecture, I will do a line pass first and then launch into color. Either way, this is where most of my references come into play. Once that is solid I add detail work.

K: Reference can be so important in art; it really can bring work to a new level if used properly!

D: Yeah reference is king. I use it constantly, even when doing the most stylized thing, cause there's always stuff you forget. The waves I did for my last card, I had reference of barrel waves up constantly, and it helps a ton.

K: My last question is where do you see yourself in five years? I know this can be a challenging question, but if you had any goals or plans you’d like to see come into fruition, what would they be?

D: Five years? These questions are always a struggle for me. I try not to look past a week at a time because it's all so BIG. And my life has undergone so many huge changes in such a short period of time SO MANY times that it's hard to make long term plans. Especially when dealing with mental illness. So I try to think less about where I'll be in any amount of time, and more about what I want to progress towards achieving, it's a little easier and sets up less expectation. So this is not necessarily a five year plan, and more an eventual future plan. I want to have enough tutorial work to put together an art resources book/pdf online. I want to develop my freelance work further and create my own studio, ideally for illustrative style work, smaller animations, and maybe some classes for people interested in color and storytelling. I want to put together a small guide of sorts also for artists and people who need healing, since there's so many of us. That one is harder because it's an amorphous subject, but I think there's a lot of room for commentary there and a lot of people wanting to hear it, and I think it'll have to come from all those hurting. It's just a matter of how we'll organize that.I am a huge sap. That's my way. So in 5 years I'm hoping I'll be a better and more helpful sap.

K: Well, I hope you're able to make a lot of this happen, we need more empathy and help in the world. Thank you again Daphne for your time, this was really informative and an honest interview which I know others will appreciate.

D: Thank you, Kallie!

You can find more of Daphne’s beautiful works (and tutorials) here:

Patreon

Twitter

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sharky857 · 3 years

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Personal and friendly reminder for all commissioning artists:

I decided to type this down after seeing a post about artists-taking-commissions on Twitter; the first point of the following list is what popped in my head upon seeing the post. Everything else came up on its own like in a domino effect:

Your health, wellbeing and also IRL matters always come first any commission I may ask you. if you say that you need some time to sort some thing(s) out, and that could also mean potentially delaying some deadlines, I will simply wish you well and wait patiently;

Sometimes I may be guilty of asking for commissions even when all your slots are taken or you're on a hiatus. On the other hand, I won't complain about any wait either, but will patiently wait for you to open commissions again. Might politely ask if you could already add my name to that future list, if you're already planning of opening new slots;

Linked to the point above: once I ask you for a commission, I rarely forget I asked for that commission. Rather, usually I spend my waiting time looking for better references and saving them up into a dedicated folder (along with URLs and stuff);

About the references: I can and will abso-feckin'-lutely info-dump the heck outta my commission. If we're talking over something like Discord, I will basically spam you with pictures and links, and sprinkle everything with tons of written notes about every single aspect of the commission: from the character(s) look to their pose(s), while giving a general indication about what kind of specific situation would be going on;

Your prices will always be alright to me. Price lists is one of the first things I look up before trying to ask you for anything (the other thing being your art style, naturally). You won't catch me ask for any discount, unless I remember you mentioned it somewhere; in this other case, I may politely bring it up and ask if that discount you mentioned could apply also to my kind of commission. I won't throw a temper tantrum just because you said that it doesn't apply;

If you haven't stated it yet, I will ask you how and when you'd like to receive your payment. I know that to some people this might seem obvious (as in: "paypal" and "right away in full" respectively), but experience as a customer has taught me that each artist has their own preferences even about this. If your payment method(s) is/are stated in your lists, I may still ask you for confirmation, especially if you told me that said list is even just a bit outdated;

"My price list has changed a bit since that time. Now Commissions cost X more than that on the average". If it's not a huge difference (like: a commission previously costing 50 now costing 60 or 70), I won't mind the change at all;

"I know you sent me a reference for this pose, but I thought it would look nicer like that instead. Looks good to you too?" YES! All the pose refs are usually only a generic, visual reference. If you think that pose would look better from another angle (or if you can even find a different pose that looks better than what I sent), and showed me the rough sketch about what you have in mind, 99% of the times I will roll with your idea. You guys are the experts, after all;

"I'm having some troubles drawing things like this. Would you mind if I tried to draw them like that?" ABSOLUTELY! Again, my refs are purely generic guidelines. If you notice you're experiencing "technical difficulties" of any kind, I won't mind you doing things in your own way. As long as the characters and initial idea are still recognisable to me, all is good;

Whenever you send me updates and messages about the commission, I will read and answer all of them within the day. Unless my ISP is throwing a temper tantrum or something sudden has occurred and can't use internet for a while.

#sharky's random stuff #(I've probably forgot something but that list should cover the most important parts anyway)#also decided to type all this down because that post (somehow) reminded me that a good chunk of clients treat their artists like p00p #and I wanted to send out some positive vibes to those artists in form of ''friendly reminder that there's also some good in some clients''#I know some artists have grown balls of steel and will be 100% unfazed by hellish customers #but some others might be discouraged by those individuals nonetheless #and yes. feel free to reblog.

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some-cookie-crumbz · 7 years

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Body of Work

Body of Work Fandom: Code Lyoko Pairing: Ulumi Summary: AU in which there was no XANA and they’re all normal college students. Odd tricks Ulrich into helping out with an art project crisis that may or may not involve the girl Ulrich’s been pining after for a few weeks. AN: Part of my Spooky Snippets story dump. For more details please see this post.

He should have been expecting something wicked from his good buddy Odd Della Robbia.

The two had been thick as thieves after years together at a boarding school, where they started out as simply roommates and peers. Odd was an exuberant, charismatic type that oozed confidence and could work up a snappy comeback to any put-downs quick as a whip. He was known for his art and his music, which certainly helped with his pastime of being a heartbreaker as far too many had a soft spot for the artistic types, but also left a list a mile long of pranks that no student had yet been able to beat. Peering behind the curtain revealed him to be a terror as a roommates though; he was inconsiderate, nosy, messy and a pest. Ulrich was basically the opposite of Odd, what with his stand-offish nature and short fuse, which left the brunette grasping at what to do. Ulrich never seemed very interested in his peers – despite how terribly he would like to have some friends – and his situation with his teammates for soccer and his martial arts club seemed more professional, despite their age. The two were the antithesis of one another.

Part of being roommates, however, was getting adjusted and at least becoming civil with one another.

It started out with them working things out in a system of favor-swaps. In exchange for him staying hushed up about Odd’s dog - smuggled in against the school’s strict policies - he’d let Ulrich call in a favor at a later point. Ulrich had cashed that one in for Odd’s help getting Sissi Delmas, the principal’s daughter and Ulrich’s most adamant of suitors, to get off his back for a date. The trend continued that way through the first full term of the year and then things escalated right before winter break began. Ulrich had a particularly rough argument with his father and Odd had sat there and listened quietly while he spilled his guts about all the dirty details. Ulrich’s father was always hard on him, barking about how poor his grades were and how his athletic accomplishments were his only saving grace, and comparing him to his older sister, honor student socialite that she was. He expected Odd to laugh at his plight or tell he should just listen to his dad, but instead Odd simply empathized with him. “Well, my parents are kinda the opposite of that, so I can’t relate… But that’s gotta be real tough on you,” He had said with what was a hopefully helpful smile.

No one had ever told him that his feelings of frustration and anxiety were valid like that. He lessened up a bit on constantly barking at Odd for not cleaning up after himself – there were still issues with that, but he made an honest effort to not let it get to him as much as before – and he let Odd tag along with him around campus. It was strange, as Ulrich had never been sure what he expected making a friend to be like, but he was grateful that it seemed to be a gradual, comfortable process. It was through Odd he made a few other close friends that he could rely on in his more difficult times.

Odd was still his best friend, despite them both being college freshman and no longer being roommates, and he was glad. They tried to get together at least once a week at one another’s place for video games and pizza, so they could catch up and just hang out. It was during one such hang out session that Odd had asked, with a grin that screamed he knew more than he was letting on, “So, any girls catching your eye, now that we’re out of the pond and milling about a stream?”

He had choked on his soda, sputtering and looking at his blonde friend like he was daft. While his group of friends had grown a bit and he’d become a bit less grumpy, his stance and interest in dating had never wavered in his middle school and high school years. It wasn’t that he was picky or thought he was better than any of the girls that asked him out, but rather that he just never really felt any particular attraction there. The girls were all physically attractive, but they never had many common interests as him and his few relationships never lasted more than a week or two before things got boring and they would mutually agree to a break-up. It wasn’t like he expected his first girlfriend to be his one and only true love but he had at least wanted something that would be more durable than a seven-to-fourteen day shelf life. After his last relationship – his Sophomore year, with a genuinely sweet Junior that lasted just shy of two weeks – he simply stopped going out with anyone when they asked him.

There was a girl he was interested in now, though, despite their limited conversations and interaction. It was a whole new sensation that felt strange because he didn’t know much about her, but knew just enough to know she was way out of his league. He knew that if he asked her out she’d just turn him away so he stayed quiet. He could continue on with their strange little dance, assuring that he at least got to keep whatever it was they currently had until he could be completely content with it and then move on to maybe find someone he had a shot with. He admitted the whole sad situation to Odd with a defeated sigh, trying not to let the reality of if get him too dragged down.

Odd had smiled at him before clapping him on his shoulder. “Hey, you never know, buddy! Maybe fate will intervene and give you two a chance to really connect!” He beamed. Thankfully, he had dropped the conversation after sharing his nugget of optimism and let them fall back into their usual chatter about this or that. It had rubbed Ulrich as a little off, because normally Odd would take information like that and make it his goal to do fate a solid, but he figured that maybe college had mellowed him out a bit; made him realize that he didn’t need to go sticking his nose into everything, perhaps.

About a week later, Odd had asked if he could come in and serve as the model for his art class. He claimed that normally the professor handled getting the models they sketched in class, but that the person originally planned for the day had a family emergency that required them to go out of town for at least two weeks. If someone in the class could find a replacement, the lesson would commence as usual. And if not, then they’d simply take their terminology quiz a week early. And Ulrich agreed, smiling shyly at the huge grin and flurry of compliments Odd showered him with in return.

He follows Odd across campus that Wednesday evening, his friend toting an easel and his impractically large bag of art supplies, Ulrich’s own book bag slung over his shoulder, and listening to his friend’s excited chatter over having him sit in for the class. Wednesday’s were Ulrich’s long days, as he worked from six to noon in the campus café and had three classes between one and six respectively; each one running at about an hour and a half with a ten minute break between them for him to rush to the new classroom and grab a snack. “I think you’re gonna enjoy this, Ulrich! So long as you don’t mind sitting still for about two hours, that is,” Odd says, his grin so strong it could power a lighthouse for a full week.

“So long as you hold true to your promise of food afterwards, I’ll be fine. Energy drinks and granola bars aren’t exactly what I’d call a real meal,” He comments, opening the door and letting Odd walk in first. Most of the students have already arrived and are setting up their supplies, easels set up in a large, wide semi-circle around a slightly raised platform with a table on top pushed in front of the teacher’s podium. Odd scans the room before chuckling in excitement while Ulrich looks toward the front, where the instructor is chatting amicably with another student.

“Ah, perfect! My usual spot is open!” He hums before whistling and waving at someone on the other side of the room. Ulrich follows his gaze and feels himself become a flustered deer-in-headlights, recognizing the girl waving back at Odd immediately. Her name is Yumi Ishiyama and she just so happens to be the girl he has been unable to get out of his mind for the last couple of weeks. She was one of the few members of the Pencak Silat club at the campus and he’d met her through that. They’d talked a few times but mostly they trained together, being the most skilled in the group and being around the same level in skill and technique. She always pins him, though, despite her only coming up to his shoulders. She’s got more muscle than most young women in their age bracket, though, and she’s honed her skills well over the years she’s been practicing the form. Her dedicate and passion for the practice was admirable; especially when she admitted her parents had always thought it was weird and tried to coax her into a different hobby. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit that her constantly wiping the floor with him was part of the reason he liked her.

In hindsight, Ulrich should have acknowledged that calculating, mischievous glint in Odd’s eye when he had asked him to do this favor.

Yumi spots him a second after she starts waving and their eyes lock, her own face taking on a similar frantic look. Her hand is frozen mid-wave and the smile falls away completely. Odd grins and leans back, elbowing Ulrich lightly in the side. “Oh, did I forget to mention? She’s my art class pal!” He muses happily, keeping his voice surprisingly quiet.

Ulrich is suddenly thrust back into his proper mind and he wheels his gaze to glare down at Odd, his hands starting to come up. To do what, exactly, he isn’t sure. Maybe strangle the blonde weasel until he pops? That seems like a fair and likely option. “What the Hell were you thinking? Why didn’t you tell me she was in this class with you?” He sputters out through gritted teeth.

Odd holds up one hand at him. “Because you’re a big pansy that wouldn’t have said yes if I told you she was here. So instead I just decided to set you up with a great opportunity! You can talk to her after class!” He beams at him. Ulrich glares at him before shifting back to rest on his heels, planning to dart back out of the room and leave Odd with egg on his face. He’ll have to make up an excuse for later when – or, rather, if – Yumi asks him about his quick retreat at their next Pencak Silat session but he figures he can get that settled out later. Or he could always just stop going to those sessions all together to never have to deal with the embarrassment of having to try and sputter out a lie. Then again, he seems to have underestimated who he’s dealing with, as Odd then turns and eagerly calls, “Excuse me, Professor Salva! Our model for this evening is here!”

The professor – a middle-aged woman in a tie-dye moo-moo with her hair tied back in a frizzy bun – perks up and smiles warmly at Odd. “Ah, wonderful! Please, come over here, darling,” She says, gesturing Ulrich over with one hand. He glares back at Odd, who instead scampers off to his spot, holding his easel behind him like a wooden tortoise shell. Clever, Ulrich has to admit, since he probably would have taken the chance to give the other a less-than-chummy punch to the shoulder if he was exposed.

He heads over and goes through a brief introduction with Professor Salva before she has him set his bag down on the top of her desk and remove his jacket and shirt. Turns out they were working on figure and anatomy, specifically focusing on the body from the waist up. Despite being mortified at sitting in front of a class of his fellow college students shirtless, he figures it’s better than being tricked into being their nude model. She does a quick glance at her attendance sheet and then the classroom before smiling and nodding to herself once he’s finished folding his jacket and shirt up next to his backpack. She leads Ulrich by a gentle hand on his back around her desk and to the center of the class before clapping to get the students attention. He can see Yumi and Odd talking quietly as they set their supplies up but they pause to turn their attention to their instructor with the rest of their peers. “Class, allow me to introduce Ulrich Stern, our model for this evening,” She hums happily.

Polite applause follows her words but cuts to small snickers when Odd – because of course he would, the little shit – wolf-whistles at him. He gets the feeling that Odd is doing it to try and help make Ulrich feel less awkward about his situation, but his friend also knows how he typically responds to embarrassing predicaments, so he might just be playing himself a fun little game of Poke-the-Sleeping-Bear.

Needless to say, he’s cruising for a severe mauling.

She talks about a few other small announcements briefly before having him settle on the small center area, guiding him to sit while leaning back on his hands slightly, making sure he feels he’ll be comfortable for the entirety that he needs to be still. She readjusts him a bit, tilting his head up and to the side a bit so he’s staring at a painting that looks like someone threw pastel paints and glitter in a blender then poured it on a canvas. She explains something about muscle definition to the class but he tunes out and watches Odd and Yumi from his peripheral, his head angled so that he can still see them decently well without moving. They’ve started quietly talking again, too soft to be heard and discreet enough to not be a distraction to their peers. He’s pretty sure that in the whole time since he had looked away from her earlier Yumi hasn’t looked at him once; whether that’s good or bad, he can’t be certain. Odd rolls his eyes at something Yumi says and retorts with something quickly, flapping his hands this way and that as he’s prone to do when he talks.

He keeps his eyes on them most of the time, watching them talk and debating how he’ll handle the situation once everything is said and done. He figures the first step will be to get out without having to face Yumi. There’s no way he can keep it together after being sat in front of her, shirtless, for two hours, while she drew him. He’s barely keeping it together knowing the other students are as well, but the fact that she’s a part of it makes it somehow worse. Next he figures will be to get some form of payback on Odd. He could always tell Odd’s latest squeeze about the time he had drunkenly pissed in a bush that turned out to be poison ivy.

Or he could always start by racking up a huge bill when they get food after class, too.

He gets so lost in his musings that it takes Professor Salva lightly tapping his shoulder to snap him to attention when class ends. While the students start putting away their supplies he hurriedly yanks his shirt back on, tosses his bag over his shoulder, and makes a beeline for the door. He clutches his jacket in his hand, opting against spending time putting his jacket back on when he could spend that time making a speedy getaway.

He opens the door and is met by Patricia “Cia” Delorme, the latest notch in Odd’s bedpost. She comes from an old money family line and has the reserved, cold persona associated with a lot of rich kids. He still doesn’t understand how Odd managed to pique her interest but as he stares at her it dawns on him he really should have seen this set-up coming. Patricia had looks that most girls would have killed for – olive skin and thick brown curls and cloudy grey-blue eyes and an Honest-to-goodness beauty mark at the corner of her left eye for crying out loud – and almost always looked like she was posing already. Pair that with Odd’s tendency to brag when he hooked a catch that was considered impossible for him and it made more sense for her to be his classes’ subject than Ulrich. Odd would have loved showing her off to his peers.

She blinks a few times in surprise at him before letting out a vague sound of amusement, the corner of her lips twitching up like she wants to smile. “Ah, so he actually went through with it, did he? I have to admit, I’m a bit impressed,” She says evenly, though there is a note of mirth to her tone.

Ulrich glares. “You knew what he was planning? Why didn’t you say anything?” He hisses at her lowly.

She shrugs. “To be honest I thought he’d chicken out. Or that you’d see through him. Seems I gave him too little credit and you too much, though,” Her tone is matter-of-fact, eerily similar to the tone his mother uses when he tries to defend himself against his father’s berating, and it makes him flinch. She notices the gesture but her expression remains the same. “Regardless of that, I hope you had fun sitting in for Odd’s turn on rotation.”

“Rotation?” He asks.

“Yeah, that’s how the class works. Each student takes a turn bringing in a subject to model for the class. This week it was Odd’s turn. He told you that much, didn’t he?” Oh, that’s how his good buddy wants to play it.

He’s about to respond when Odd shoves his way past Ulrich into the hallway, throwing one arm over Patricia’s shoulders and tugging her away a bit. “Cia, baby! Did you really come here just to see me? You’re such a sweetheart!” He coos affectionately.

Patricia quirks an eyebrow at Odd. “You told me to meet you here after class to get dinner and a movie,” She says flatly.

Odd simply laughs and starts hurriedly leading her toward the nearby double doors. “Right, right! I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached!”

Ulrich growls and prepares to go after the two and call his friend out on his bull when he hears a quiet, “Excuse me,” from the doorway.

He stumbles away from the door and turns, blinking in surprise to see Yumi standing there, one hand up in a meek wave. He stares for a moment before clearing his throat and uttering a small, “Uh… S-Sorry.”

“For what?” She asks with a half-laugh.

“Standing in the doorway. You probably want to get home,” He says hurriedly, his gaze falling to his jacket in his hands. He never noticed what a nice shade of olive green it was before.

“Oh,” She says, “well, yeah, I guess class is over, huh? But I don’t actually have anywhere to be; don’t have very many friends and my brother already has plans tonight.”

“Hiroki, right?” He asks, recalling her mentioning her younger brother a few times before. They didn’t talk very much about their personal lives in their Pencak Silat sessions, but they had shared a few small stories. She told him about the time Hiroki once stole her diary and gave it to his crush on the school newspaper to try and get brownie points for getting her a juicy story. Ulrich had in turn told her about the time he hid a live frog in his sister’s ballet bag before she left for a recital.

He glances up and sees an impressed grin on her lips. “Huh, I didn’t think you’d remember something like that,” She says lightly. She then shifts, readjusting her supply bag in her shoulder. Hers is much smaller and simpler than Odd’s but it’s the same one she uses for their sparing sessions; a black drawstring bag with a few worn out patches stitched to the bottom.

“I remember a lot of things,” He says, his tone toeing the line between being casual and defensive despite himself. His gaze quickly turns to the ground – counting the scuff marks and splashes of mud on her combat boots – and he hears her chuckle slightly.

“Good to know. Anyway, have you eaten yet?” She asks. He looks up at her slowly and she readjusts her bag again, nodding her head toward the exit. He takes the implication and starts walking with her toward the doors.

“Nah. Originally Odd was going to buy me dinner, but clearly he bailed out. Probably knew I was going to be less than pleased about the whole situation,”

“Hm. He did run off pretty quick. Then again, he said he and his girlfriend had a small fight last night so that might have been part of it,” Yumi comments evenly. Ulrich says nothing about her explanation, despite knowing it was a lie. He and Odd had hung out for a few hours the night before and the other had been gushing about how good things were going between them. And pairing that up with Patricia actually coming to meet up with Odd like he had asked her to seemed to lead credence to his theory of his friend lying to Yumi.

“He tends to do that a lot. Guess I’m on my own for food then,” He shrugs. He glances at her from the corner of his eye to see she’s watching him. He forces himself not to blush from her attention. “Unless… I mean… Did you want to go get something to eat?”

She smiles up at him. “Sure, I’d like that,”

#Code Lyoko #Ulumi #yumi ishiyama #ulrich stern #my fics #spooky snippets

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ellipsea · 7 years

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dear diary

Fandom: The Raven Cycle Pairing: Gansey/Diary Rating: G Word Count: 1314 Summary: Gansey was dying.

Metaphorically. Hyperbole about such a thing had lost the potential to be a joke after his second death, probably. And despite Calla's incessant "Better with three!" hollering at him whenever he paid Blue a visit at 300 Fox Way, he wasn't ready for a third go-around.

Notes: inspired by @cabeswaterlovesthem and this post.

also on AO3

Gansey was dying.

No, Gansey was having an existential crisis because he had forgotten his diary at Monmouth Manufacturing, and now he had to survive a full day of classes at Aglionby without it.

He'd call it a journal to anyone else, but addressed the leather-bound booklet with the "diary" endearment each time he began his entries. He found it therapeutic, to talk to someone about the mess they'd pulled themselves out of last fall. It still contained old entries from his Glendower hunting days, and several sketches and poems endured as proof of what a wistful boy he was.

Still is a wistful boy, but he was back then, too.

Today, during his diary-less day, he fidgeted a ballpoint pen against his desk, elegant marbled casing thumping against the wood. It was a gift he'd received in a long black box from his father for Christmas. He considered switching it out for his calligraphy fountain pen, but didn't want to overuse the tip. Plenty of pages in his diary swirled with his slanted script, and the right pen was always so hard to find.

Maybe it was a blessing that he wouldn't be able to write a new entry today. His grades had been slipping, slightly — doodling in the margins of his diary and jotting down errant ideas for adventures sapped his attention from lectures. Often he spiraled in some less-than-productive thoughts about the nature of his humanity, questioning if existence qualified as sufficient realness, and he recalled that his previous entry looked much like this:

Dear Diary,

Sometimes I wonder if I am a real boy. I don't mean to plagiarize Pinocchio, but I was fundamentally remade by magic twice. It's a really valid question. Jane says that I am just like her now: part tree, to her kinetic delight. Oh, kin, get it? Just like her? Okay, well. Ronan says that I have always been part magic, but that particular lapse in hostility was likely due to his inebriation. Adam asks me how I'm doing, mostly. It's his lack of assumptions I appreciate most but also thinking too hard about what's in my own head makes me feel lost.

I still feel like me, though. Same contact lenses, same car keys, same wanderlust, but that part's bigger these days. More timeless. Can you want to adventure into the past, present, and future all at once? I think I've found a way. If all of your pieces are still intact, is the whole just the same? I think I'm in over my foresty head. Try to think of an answer for me next time, won't you?

Yours, sincerely, always,

Gansey (I hope)

The final bell rang. The classroom noisily transitioned into a rush of bags being packed, plans being made, shoulders jostled and hair rustled. Gansey sighed. He still had extracurriculars to attend, professors to speak to. Adam would be off to work for a few hours, so they couldn't accompany each other back to Monmouth, where they agreed they would both be studying until late —

"Gansey Boy!"

Boy, yes, that's what I am —

"Henry," Gansey replied brightly. "My good prince."

Henry's hair and smile defied laws of physics, but when he spied Gansey's pen spinning about agitated fingers, his expression turned more sympathetic. "All right there? Look like you've seen a ghost."

"I have," Gansey said. He set down the pen to clasp Henry's palm in greeting. "Just not today."

Club meeting running late, Gansey texted, hours later, phone tucked close to his chest. I'll have to miss dinner, unfortunately.

take your time dick

Flattered to have gotten a response at all, Gansey hastily typed back. He never corrected Ronan on his nomenclature anymore. Lost causes and Ronan Lynch were old friends.

Save me some wings, we should be done shortly.

no really take your time

Two texts from Ronan in under two minutes — normally, he would take his good fortune and run with it, but the itching nature of the day and the instant dismissal of his tardiness stirred Gansey's senses that something was up.

"Not sticking around?" Johnson said as the meeting adjourned, Gansey already heading for the door.

"We bought all these donuts," Geary added, thumbing behind him to the layers of pink boxes across the desks.

"I have a dinner to attend," Gansey said, waving them off politely. To the Aglionby student body, his excuse probably sounded more like I have to go dump a pound of caviar down my throat and I won't even taste it. But dinners at Monmouth were scrappier, greasier, appreciative hums and full-bellied laughs all through the night. They were Blue's head in Gansey's lap, her hand rubbing his thigh whenever she felt like it, Henry's jovial arm wrapped around Gansey's shoulder. They were Ronan's legs on top of Adam's legs and his hand in Adam's hair and Adam wearing the easiest smile Gansey had ever seen on him, and it twisted something so brightly happy inside of him that he had to look away.

Days were theirs to frivol away, curses and tomb-raiding and evil Latin teachers all behind them.

When he got to the parking lot it was quiet and dim, the air forgiving and still, and the sight of his orange automotive miracle was a combusting sunspot on the dull pavement. He couldn't wait to get back, to get home, to kiss Blue, to unravel today's cares into textbooks and takeout.

On the third turn of his keys, the Camaro roared to life, chugging helplessly before remembering what taking a breath felt like. Reliably unreliable, as always. He cranked down the window on the drive away from campus, wind billowing through his hair and easing his worries. It all seemed so right, when he was like this. Just him, his car, the open air and open road. Maybe he didn't need the security of a diary, of writing it all down, making it physical and permanent and fastidious. He could just be. Moving on, moving forward. That sounded grand to Gansey-the-forest, and Henrietta rolled in waves as he passed it on by.

No one knocked to enter Monmouth anymore. The door swing freely and welcoming on its well-worn hinges, and Gansey greeted the interior as he stepped through the threshold. "Hey, guys —"

Three heads whipped up when the door shut. Adam, wide-eyed and hunched, pressed into Ronan's side on the couch. That was familiar, that was normal. The two were usually seen at each other's side, and it no longer gave Gansey pause but delighted him, plain and simple, that his friends had found comfort in each other. Sometimes the four of them competed for gross levels of PDA, until Henry joined in on Gansey's and Blue's side and they inevitably won the contest. (In his modest opinion.)

Ronan himself looked like he had committed a crime, which was also normal. But Blue — oh, beautiful and miraculous and wild Blue — looked like his guilty co-conspirator. They were all huddled on the couch over an oddly familiar leather rectangle, and realization pitted in Gansey's stomach.

"Oh, no," he said, and dropped his bag to the floor.

For a moment, they just stared each other down. A standoff, where the first one to break would be the one blamed for the whole thing. Then Ronan began reading from the diary, in a bold and booming voice, "My beloved Glendower —" and Blue roared with laughter and Adam wheezed and fell off the couch.

All Gansey could think was that he'd accept his third death anytime.

#the raven cycle #trc #pynch #bluesey #richard gansey #adam parrish #ronan lynch #blue sargent #henry cheng #the gang's all here #trc fanfiction

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thejustinmarshall · 6 years

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Why Your Smartphone Is A Great Adventure Tool

Every once in a while at a book signing or during an interview, someone asks me: What’s your favorite piece of outdoor gear? I try for a few seconds to stall and think of something original and interesting, and then I give up and say, You know what, I think the smartphone is probably one of the best pieces of adventure gear we have now. And I pretty much never go on a trip without it.

Before you write me off as some millennial who can’t live a day without staring at a glowing pocket computer, let me refute that right now and say: I am a Gen-Xer who can’t live a day without staring at a glowing pocket computer. I am too old to be a millennial by four years. Let’s just cut the shit and admit that we’re all using our phones to do everything nowadays. And “everything” probably includes our outdoor adventures.

When I say the phone is a great piece of adventure gear, I don’t mean that we can use it to communicate every moment of our day hike or MTB ride or use it to call for a rescue when we get in over our heads because of bad planning or incompetence. I mean that it makes a great off-the-grid tool when it’s offline, in Airplane Mode, not communicating with anyone. I am not an accomplished alpinist or a writer for National Geographic—I’m speaking from the perspective of a weekend warrior, sometimes adventure writer and sometimes filmmaker. These are a few of the ways I utilize my phone in the outdoors:

Navigation: I’m half crusty old guy who loves paper maps in my hands and/or spread out on my kitchen table, and half next-generation GPS embracer. I can’t operate a handheld GPS unit for shit, but every trip I go on where getting lost might be a possibility, I take two types of maps: A paper one (OK, plasticized paper) and a digital one downloaded and viewable offline in an app like Gaia GPS or ViewRanger. I hate looking at 2-inch by 2-inch maps on a phone screen, but I love the ability of a GPS app to pinpoint my location on a USGS topo. Oh, and of course the iPhone also has a compass and altimeter.

Notes: On longer trips, or when something strikes me, I rely heavily on the Notes app in my iPhone. I’ve written parts of magazine stories and entire blogs on my phone while lying on my back in my sleeping bag, and typed countless half-hatched and fully-hatched ideas in the Notes app. I also keep a running note of sketch ideas for my Instagram feed, often just a few words or a description of something I think might be funny (half of them never make it past the idea stage). The Notes sync automatically with the Notes on my laptop, so I don’t even have to email or text the note to myself once I get back to civilization—I just cut and paste the notes into a document and start editing. Also good for when you’re halfway through a trail run and remember you need to stop by the grocery store on your way home and buy eggs (or toilet paper).

Voice Memos: Same as the Notes app on the iPhone, but very useful when you have a great idea you don’t want to forget but you don’t want to type and walk or run. A couple taps of the screen and you’re recording a brain dump that may be something awesome, as well as some huffing and puffing.

Flashlight: I always take a headlamp (or two), but I’ve definitely done my share of nighttime routefinding (and rifling through my car for a piece of gear before sunrise or after sunset) with my phone’s flashlight. The flashlight app sucks huge amounts of your battery, but in a pinch it can save your ass.

Kindle: I’ve never been on one of those expeditions where the team brings a few paperbacks and rips them into lighter-weight sections to share throughout the trip, but I do love reading books in my tent. I use the Kindle app for ebooks, so I always have three or four books I can choose from for some nighttime reading in my sleeping bag (particularly handy during the long fall nights in the desert, when I’m in my sleeping bag before 8 p.m.).

Camera/Video camera: Adventure filmmaking isn’t always about $10,000 cameras and expensive lenses (although people other than myself have created amazing pieces with those things). Your phone, if it was made in the past two years, is probably a pretty rad video camera. I’ve used an iPhone for film festival films and sponsored films, mounting it on a small GorillaPod or handheld gimbal stabilizer. It’s not going to get you the Best Cinematography Award at a festival, but you can take a phone camera to so many places you can’t take a RED Dragon, and capture those authentic moments that make a great adventure story. I’m sure I’m about the thousandth person to encourage aspiring filmmakers to not worry so much about not being able to afford fancy gear—the iPhone shoots 4K, and it’s in your pocket right now. It’s also not too shabby of a still camera. (Note: I only have experience with iPhones, and I know other smartphones have fantastic/better cameras)

Beta: I love guidebooks. Always have, always will. That said, it’s pretty rad to be going rock climbing for the day and have all the route beta you need downloaded on the Mountain Project app. I’ve used my phone to take photos of pages from my guidebooks at home, store photos other people have shared online of the routefinding cruxes of mountaineering and climbing routes, and notes on the location of water sources on desert bikepacking and backpacking routes.

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olivereliott · 6 years

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Why Your Smartphone Is A Great Adventure Tool

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oselatra · 7 years

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More statues

Confederate monuments, largely a legacy of Jim Crow hate, need not be destroyed to nullify their offensive power. They should be sited on private land or exhibited in museums as relics of a painful part of United States history.

More statues

FOR THE RECORD

Let's have Dahmer in bronze on the square/

And McVeigh. We should all be aware/

Of the fear and the hate/

Which, it seems, made us great./

John Wilkes Booth next to Lincoln sounds fair.

Stuart Jay Silverman Hot Springs

From the web

In response to the Aug. 18 Arkansas Blog post "Arkansas competes for auto plant" about Arkansas vying for a $1.6 billion auto plant, which often involves incentives doled out by the state:

It'll be like that old Monty Python Four Yorkshiremen sketch of a group of old men reminiscing about their early days, each seeking to one-up the others over hardships endured.

"Oh yeah, Governor so-and-so? Well, I'll have MY legislature make the workers PAY Toyota just to be able to have a job there and we'll dump toxic waste into wetlands ourselves, just so the company doesn't have to. So there!"

tsallenarng

In response to the Aug. 21 Arkansas Blog post "Hutchinson's office says he will set execution of Jack Gordon Greene, state has drugs":

As usual with the Arkansas Times, only the barest minimum of information on what a convicted murderer did that resulted in his presence on death row. I'll say it for you: Jack Greene killed Turner Greene (MURDERED HIS OWN BROTHER) in North Carolina, and then went to Arkansas looking for his estranged girlfriend. He would have killed her, but he found Sidney Burnett (family friend of Jack Greene's girlfriend) so he tortured, stabbed and fatally shot him. Then he went on the run to Oklahoma, where he was caught. Just for full transparency, let's include the fact that he kidnapped his own 16-year-old niece, who somehow survived. Then, he resisted extradition to Arkansas (death penalty state) and tried for extradition to North Carolina, the place where he killed his own brother, since that state has no death penalty. Amazingly detailed strategy for a crazy person. You don't want to talk much about any of that, do you? And there's NO WAY you'd ever post photos of his victims, is there? Nah, let's just focus on poor old crazy Jack and how unfair it all is. The only unfair aspect of this is that Jack Greene wasn't executed 26 years ago.

Semit Sasnakra

In response to the Aug. 17 Arkansas Blog post "Arkansas Democratic Party calls for removal of Confederate monuments from public grounds:

Serious question here to the governor and the rest of our elected leaders: If you do not wish to remove the statues that honor the Confederate dead because you feel they can be used as teachable moments, then why don't you authorize some statues honoring the dead slaves that helped build this country? If you are going after a teachable moment, shouldn't the whole story be presented?

Poison Apple

I would rather see the Democratic Party of Arkansas demand a livable minimum wage than waste its time railing about Confederate statues. Confederate statues are benign. The hurt that Arkansas workers suffer because of economic inequality is active and brutal. The Democratic Party has forgotten the primary tenet of the FDR, HST and LBJ party, which was to provide a New Deal, a Fair Deal, and a Better Deal for the working man and woman. Bernie, start a new party. I will be with you. I will preach this as long as I am able to type.

Plainjim

In response to the Aug. 16 Arkansas Blog post "Arkansas-linked Charlottesville marcher identified, apologizes to those misidentified" about Andrew Dodson, the man who wore an Arkansas Engineering shirt at the Charlottesville white supremacist rally. Dodson remarked, "How else am I going to figure out what these guys are about?"

If he hasn't figured it out by now, he never will.

Kate

A five-minute Google search could have saved this dolt A LOT of trouble.

Jen Chadbourne

[Re Dodson quote "I just didn't put two and two together. It was dumb."] So says a member of the master race.

AnnaHarrisonTerry

In response to the Aug. 21 Arkansas Blog post "Eclipse-o-rama underway":

It was pretty cool! The light did change some here in LR, and, as they said, tree leaves cast amazing crescent-shaped shadows on the ground. It seems to me the birds got quieter here in my yard, and still are pretty quiet. If I'm still around for the next one in seven years, I'd really like to make the trek to the totality path. This was a good reminder that the universe is an amazing place, and that our politics and squabbles don't amount to much in the grand scheme of things. I am grateful for that reminder.

Kate

More statues

#More statues

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midnightmacaroni · 7 years

Text

Well shit, okay anon, I found the post I think you're referring to, so without further ado, here are my answers... (Also super sorry for any spelling mistakes or unanswered questions, this literally took me like two hours to type up on my phone) 200: My crush’s name is: Gal Gadot tbqh ;) 199: I was born in: a hospital?? (September lol) 198: I am really: tired, currently 197: My cellphone company is: AT&T, formerly Verizon 196: My eye color is: blue 195: My shoe size is:men's 9 or 9.5. I just like the colors available in men's shoes better ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  194: My ring size is: idk, actually. Planning a proposal?? 193: My height is: 5' 6"  192: I am allergic to: Most antibiotics! And bleu cheese. 191: My 1st car was: baby blue 2008 Toyota  190: My 1st job was: dishwasher at a diner. Still work there! 189: Last book you read: uhhhh....Energy Bus by Jon Gordon. Haven't finished it yet but so far it's pretty good. Other than that, been reading lots of fanfiction lol 188: My bed is: My Home, I love my bed 187: My pet: is my baby and a perfect boy (an orange cat named jack) 186: My best friend: not sure who this is sometimes, actually. I have a few great friends but Idk who I would call my best friend. I hope that doesn't stir any pots. 185: My favorite shampoo is: herbal essences 184: Xbox or ps3: uhhhhhhhh Xbox One 183: Piggy banks are: a waste of good ceramic, imo. Use a bank, earn interest! 182: In my pockets: typically: wallet, keys, phone, iPod. Cargo shorts, while not fashionable, are wonderfully functional. 181: On my calendar: TOO MANY THINGS 180: Marriage is: something I think I'd like but that's a long time from now.  179: Spongebob can: make a great Krabby Patty 178: My mom: was an amazing woman who I wish I could have gotten to know more as an adult, she passed away when I was 19. 177: The last three songs I bought were? Country Roads by John Denver, LA Devotee by P!ATD, and Nowhere by East of Eli 176: Last YouTube video watched: "super Mario 64- endless stairs" because I was feeling nostalgic 175: How many cousins do you have? Too many to count, honestly. My dads half of the family grows exponentially and I have cousins I've never even met. 174: Do you have any siblings? Yes, two younger brothers and a younger sister. 173: Are your parents divorced? They divorced when I was 4, in 1999. 172: Are you taller than your mom? I was, yes. I think I was taller than her when I was in 7th grade onward. 171: Do you play an instrument? Not really, I kinda dabble on the piano sometimes but I can't actually play anything besides Chopsticks. 170: What did you do yesterday? I spent the day swimming at a friend's house and then played beer pong with some other friends. [ I Believe In ] 169: Love at first sight: no. infatuation, maybe. You need to know a little more than what a person looks like to fall in love with them. 168: Luck: yes 167: Fate: hmmmmmmmm maybe 166: Yourself: most days, no. 165: Aliens: absofuckinglutely 164: Heaven: not in the Christian/Catholic sense... 163: Hell: no. 162: God: not in the Christian/Catholic sense. 161: Horoscopes: sometimes?  160: Soul mates: mmmmm I like the concept, but the execution is sloppy. 3/10 159: Ghosts: yes. I've had way too many paranormal things happen that can't possibly be coincidence. 158: Gay Marriage: uh why is this in the "believe in" category? This Just In: gays who get married are mythical creatures (Yeah, anybody should be able to marry whoever they love)  157: War: I don't think there's ever a good reason for war 156: Orbs: like, ghost orbs? Or...like... uh what?? 155: Magic: as a witch, yes, I believe in magic. [This or That ] 154: Hugs or Kisses: why not both? But hugs are great for friends so I guess hugs. Kisses have to be at a certain standard, but hugs are always nice. 153: Drunk or High: never been high, so drunk I guess  152: Phone or Online: online ON my phone! (Is that what this is asking?)  151: Red heads or Black haired: uhhhh I don't really know any red heads so black haired I guess? 150: Blondes or Brunettes: another hard one, i don't really care what hair color you got tbh 149: Hot or cold: cold. You can always throw on another layer, but you can't always strip down to nakedness if you're too hot. 148: Summer or winter: winter. 147: Autumn or Spring: autumn. 146: Chocolate or vanilla: chocolate  145: Night or Day: night 144: Oranges or Apples: apples! I don't like the texture of oranges, or any citrus fruit, really. 143: Curly or Straight hair: Wavy? 142: McDonalds or Burger King: McDonald's fries, burger king's burgers. 141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: milk chocolate, all the way. 140: Mac or PC: macs are too confusing to me, so PC. 139: Flip flops or high heals: *heels, and definitely flip flops. I can't walk in heels to save my life. 138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: sweet and poor.  137: Coke or Pepsi: I don't drink soda anymore, but at different points in my life I would have said coke, then Pepsi. I think if I did drink soda, I would be a Pepsi kid. 136: Hillary or Obama: when was this written, jfc lol (Obama forever, that family was the classiest and most well-educated to enter the White House and I miss them dearly.)  135: Burried or cremated: neither. 134: Singing or Dancing: singing, but only when I'm alone in the car or shower. 133: Coach or Chanel: I have no idea... 132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: who???? Seriously, who?? 131: Small town or Big city: moderately medium suburbs 👌🏼 130: Wal-Mart or Target: target! 129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: Adam Sandler annoys the shit out of me, so ben stiller. 128: Manicure or Pedicure: pedicure, I like when they fix up my toes and give me a foot rub. Hand massages are great but foot rubs are A+++ 127: East Coast or West Coast: since I live east coast and have seen most of the states on this side of the country, I'll have to go with east coast. Sorry Cali!! 126: Your Birthday or Christmas: Christmas, because then I can give my friends things too. 125: Chocolate or Flowers: uhhh chocolate. 124: Disney or Six Flags: never been to six flags!  123: Yankees or Red Sox: yanks all the way!!! [ Here’s What I Think About ] 122: War: it's pointless and we sensationalize it way too much. It's not something glamorous, it is awful. 121: George Bush: he was a shit president and the fact that some people are treating him like a cute grandpa nowadays is really kinda sketch. 120: Gay Marriage: it should be legalized and celebrated everywhere. 119: The presidential election: electoral college is bullshit  118: Abortion: a woman should have access to safe, affordable healthcare, no matter what her choices are. I wish it didn't have to happen, but I fully support any women who make that choice. Their bodies! 117: MySpace: I like having my own space! (Jk, I never had a MySpace so I can't comment) 116: Reality TV: reality is not TV. It's mindless entertainment but other than that, has little value. 115: Parents: they do the best they can and do what they think is right. and sometimes they fuck up. It happens 114: Back stabbers: I don't like liars or people with malicious intent, but that's human nature sometimes so yanno (งツ)ว  113: Ebay: sketchy, but I know people who have gotten good deals so I guess it's cool 112: Facebook: Facebook is a good place to dump a lot of my photos to make more room on my phone 111: Work: I like to make money, and I have a good work ethic. I feel like sometimes people don't take their job seriously and don't perform to the best of their ability, which makes me upset. I think if you're working at a job, you should always do the best you can and be a good employee 110: My Neighbors: at home, my one neighbor is really awesome and the other just sucks 109: Gas Prices: normally, they're about $0.20 cheaper here at school but they've been on the rise so I'm a little miffed. 108: Designer Clothes: I think the prices are way too jacked up for some fabric that covers your body. You're paying for the brand name, and that's nuts. 107: College: it's a great time, but not for everybody 106: Sports: America cares more about sports than the planet we live on. I personally think that we shouldn't be paying basketball players thousands of dollars to shoot a ball in a hoop but hey that's America and capitalism for you. Doesn't make sense to me 105: My family: backwards and dysfunctional but there for me when I really need them. Family doesn't always have to be blood, either. 104: The future: frustrated about it because my goals are far away from me and I can't think much farther ahead than 3 months. [ Last time I ] 103: Hugged someone: last night, alex and gabby  102: Last time you ate: twizzlers at about 7:00 pm? 101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: uhhh idk? When I was home last, that was a while ago. 100: Cried in front of someone: I cant remember. 99: Went to a movie theater: a few weeks ago to see Wonder Woman 98: Took a vacation: last summer, when I went to Italy to meet Bruce Springsteen 97: Swam in a pool: yesterday! 96: Changed a diaper: uh approximately 8 years ago when my little siblings were babies haha 95: Got my nails done: no idea 94: Went to a wedding: my cousin Kim's wedding in 2013 93: Broke a bone: does fracturing count as a break? Because that was in like February/ March lol 92: Got a peircing: December 2014 91: Broke the law: how deep we talking here? Because I feel like there are a lot of minor laws we all break on a daily basis lol 90: Texted: 2 seconds ago to my friend Jenna [ MISC ] 89: Who makes you laugh the most: probably my friend Jordan, lately though it has been Alex and Gabby 88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: The familiarity of everything that I grew up with 87: The last movie I saw: Wonder Woman,12/10 86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: going home next week because I need a break from school and summer work 85: The thing im not looking forward to: taking my math final exam 84: People call me: ?? Dumb bitch, probably  83: The most difficult thing to do is: type all these answers out... No but really, forgiving yourself is hard 82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: uhhhh 3 times 🙈 81: My zodiac sign is: Virgo  80: The first person i talked to today was: My buddy Guber 79: First time you had a crush: uhhh when I was like 9 and loved Lindsay Lohan. Had posters, autographed photos, magazines, everything of her lol 78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: uhhh??? Idk man I hide things pretty well if I want to  77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: It happens a lot. Today, a few times? 76: Right now I am talking to: Gabby, Bri, Gina, Jenna, Elizabeth 75: What are you going to do when you grow up: I am a grown up and I have no idea what I'm doing lol 74: I have/will get a job: I have been working as a resident assistant for the past two years and hopefully will be getting a job for the next year as a domino's pizza delivery driver 73: Tomorrow: I'm volunteering at a cat rescue and then doing math homework 72: Today: I went to Hershey park and had a bunch of fun! 71: Next Summer: who even knows lol 70: Next Weekend: I will be getting ready to go home for a week 69: I have these pets: 9 cats, 2 dogs and a Senegal parrot  68: The worst sound in the world: cardboard scraping on cardboard 67: The person that makes me cry the most is: no one person really makes me cry?? Idk...? 66: People that make you happy: Gabby, Alex, Gina, Bri, Michelle...hooo the list goes on and on.  65: Last time I cried: like ten mins ago lol 64: My friends are: great but sometimes I feel like they don't like me as much as I like them  63: My computer is: getting old  62: My School: is the best!!! 61: My Car: is my baby but she's getting a little beat up.  60: I lose all respect for people who: treat janitorial staff like garbage, don't tip their servers, voted for Drumph 59: The movie I cried at was: I cried a little bit during Wonder Woman 58: Your hair color is: naturally a dark blonde but currently brown. Need to re-dye it soon. 57: TV shows you watch: so many. Supergirl, Arrow, Flash, Orphan Black, Lost Girl, Orange is the New Black, TWD,...and more. 56: Favorite web site: probably Tumblr tbh lol  55: Your dream vacation: I would just really love to see Australia, London, Ireland, and eventually all 50 US states 54: The worst pain I was ever in was: when I had mono and it felt like there were knives in the back my throat 53: How do you like your steak cooked: medium-rare. I'm at a fancy place, rare. 52: My room is: tidy, but also cozy. 51: My favorite celebrity is: Cher 50: Where would you like to be: right where I am, which is in bed 49: Do you want children: nope nope I'll babysit but I don't want any junior me's running around  48: Ever been in love: yes, a few times. 47: Who’s your best friend: this is a repeat question and I don't know how to answer it 46: More guy friends or girl friends: more girl friends.  45: One thing that makes you feel great is: getting complemented, even if I don't to leave them half the time 44: One person that you wish you could see right now: my mom. I need advice and it would be great to see her again.  43: Do you have a 5 year plan: I don't even have a five minute plan, who do you think I am?? 42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: one time I did, but idk where that list is. 41: Have you pre-named your children: no, don't want any. 40: Last person I got mad at: uhhh I don't know? I was annoyed with some friends the other night but not mad. 39: I would like to move to: Canada, Toronto specifically. 38: I wish I was a professional: parkour artist (Idk what else you'd call a parkour person) [ My Favorites ] 37: Candy: take five 36: Vehicle: ?? I don't know, I drove a 2014 chevy impala once and that was really cool so that, I guess? 35: President: Obama, 100% 34: State visited: Idk!!! I liked Cali a lot, but it's hard for me to judge because I wasn't really allowed to go do my own thing and explore soooo idk 33: Cellphone provider: Verizon 32: Athlete: idk any athletes to be able to answer this one 31: Actor: Stephen Amell, Robert DeNiro, Jim Carey  30: Actress: Meryl Streep, Calista Flockhart, Tatiana Maskany 29: Singer: Cher, Prince, Beyoncé...many more 28: Band: Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street Band, U2, P!ATD, a lot more. 27: Clothing store: Old Navy 26: Grocery store: Wegmans 25: TV show: Any super hero show, I don't know... 24: Movie: Princess Bride, Homeward Bound, Wonder Woman, Scary Movie 3, The Heat 23: Website: tumblr lol 22: Animal: cats!!! I love all animals tho so hot that down 21: Theme park: universal studios in Florida 20: Holiday: Halloween 🎃 19: Sport to watch: women's soccer, or baseball 18: Sport to play: soccer  17: Magazine: I don't really read magazines 16: Book: Nancy drew books were rad. I haven't read an actual book in a long time, so I don't really know if I have a favorite 15: Day of the week: Thursday 14: Beach: Amalfi Coast, Italy. Or Bermuda. 13: Concert attended: Bruce Springsteen, 2016, the River tour. 12: Thing to cook: Italian food. But I like cooking anything really  11: Food: chicken is always a good time 10: Restaurant: I dunno I like lot of places  9: Radio station: 104.5, 98.5, 92.1... a few more  8: Yankee candle scent: Cranberry woods. (Is that a yankee candle smell?? Could be some other rand tbh idk) 7: Perfume: uhh anything from bath and body works is nice. I personally wear Acqua Di Gio by Armani pretty often. 6: Flower: daffodils 5: Color: blue 4: Talk show host: Ellen DeGeneres, Jimmy Fallon 3: Comedian: John Mulaney is pretty funny. Also Bo Burnham. 2: Dog breed: Golden Retrievers. 1: Did you answer all these truthfully? Truthfully, yes. 100% Seriously? Not all of them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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