Little hedonistic things to enjoy (Art Academia edition)
● sitting all day in art museums, sketching the paintings and writing analyzes and observations next to it;
● searching antique shops for old art albums and art theory books;
● looking through kiosks for various magazines to make collages;
● going through art stores and looking for all kinds of new and creative materials;
● doing a sketch study group where each participant imitates a pose from a famous artwork while the others draw it;
● making a wall to put pictures of all your favorite artists and pieces of art;
● staying up late to make your own colors and paper;
● making a collection of color shades and hanging them above the work table;
● analyzing color studies from Isaac Newton, Goethe or Johannes Itten and trying to put them into practice;
● sitting with the group of friends at the table and debating the importance, technique and quality of the great artists;
● going to crowded places like the subway, a park or a coffee shop and drawing people coming and going;
● writing imaginary stories and fanfictions about the secret lives of artists;
● spending hours looking for different interpretations in art for the same Greek myths;
● making illustrations for passages from favorite books and poems you have read;
● watching old DVDs about art, interviews with different contemporary artists, analysis of certain works of art.
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Today I embrace simplicity, peacefulness and comfort 🌌✨. Also, I’m very grateful to everyone that is still there enjoying my little scare posts 💙
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They were never mine
All those sleepless nights
After you left
All those feelings I couldn’t say
So I wrote
Ink and paper
Chords and melodies
Words and rhymes
I wrote them
But they were never mine.
I’m in the studio today
A dozen instruments
My brothers and sisters
Sharing these scars
Bringing their own
The old scars draw a new picture
Words and rhymes
I wrote them
But they were never mine
A crowd of thousands
The coldest night of the year
They all paid to be here
All those sleepless nights
The scars I bled
To put something on paper
It all led here
The chorus approaches
The mic to the crowd
Words and rhymes
I wrote them
But they were never mine
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One massive, legitimate way to improve as a writer or artist or in any creative endeavor really, is to become absolutely obsessed with something and to allow yourself to be weird about it. Genuinely mean this btw.
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I have feelings about how these two are mirror opposites in reaction to monstrous trauma.
I have spicier stuff on my Patreon.
⭐⭐⭐⭐
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Cold snap - Steve Smulka
American, b. 1949 -
Oil on linen , 36 x 48 cm.
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big fan when people add tags on my art that are utterly incomprehensible but so full of emotion that I know I've done good work. key smashes, several different emojis of entirely different emotions and random objects, "froths at the mouth", "this art really chops my lettuce". my art so good it makes people's minds short-circuit??? pretty damn good
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sure, "I'm part of this marginalized group that I'm writing about" isn't a get out of jail free card for all bigotry, but if someone says "I'm portraying an exact experience I've had, this literally happened to me" and your response is "okayyy but think of the optics of showing that that happens? maybe keep that to yourself?" it might be time to reconsider your approach.
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