please never, EVER feel obligated to talk to, interact with or get content out for your tumblr audience.
Yes, we love when you post. But BECAUSE we love when you post, it DOES NOT MATTER how long of a time passes between those posts. Seriously.
Post daily? Neat! Once a week? Awesome! Once a year? Wow, a neat new sight!
Really. Never feel obligated to listen to people on your online audience begging for more. What the majority want is for you to be well rested, safe and happy, and however infrequently you post because of that doesn’t matter as long as you are okay.
Have a wonderful day, and look after yourself!!!
/pos
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
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A little off topic but do I spy tail feathers on gk in the last panel?
thank you for noticing thank you for noticing thank you for n oticing thanky nyou f
yes, you most certainly do!
voilà!
he's had them in every picture of him i've posted, but they're not always easy to see! i was really wondering when someone would notice!
it is a swallow-like tail! when you have big ol' wings i figure that having a rudder helps significantly with manoeuvrability. here's some sketches where you can see it a little more clearly.
and an extra bonus; with all those feathers he's obviously gotta have a way to preen them...
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i'm literally so obsessed with how you draw ice king it makes me so so so smiles. i feel like he's the kind of guy i'd end up talking to on public transit
AHDJDJDJ AHHH THIS MADE US SO HAPPY LIKE DJDJDJDJ AHHH THANK U
some silly ice kings just for u 💕💕💕
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I am litcherally foaming at the mouth over that tomato skirt design. How is every single one of your skirt designs a banger
YOU ARE SO NICE... i'm glad you like the cherry maters!!!! i'm super fucking gassed up for the skirt to launch!
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Nooooooooo, no muzzle! Keep going! More Price brainrot!!!!!!!! 😭😘💀
ANON I COHLD KISS UR LITTLE HEAD LET ME SHARE THIS
Thinking about you and gaz who constantly compete for the spot as price’s favorite even though the older man doesn’t notice any of your efforts, being so at each other’s throat people think you hate each other but you really don’t. One night the two of you get drunk out of your minds just laughing at your misery because both of you messed up during a mission and got scolded by the older man.
So you’re sitting there, eyes half lidded words slurred, jokingly saying how maybe Gaz should wear less clothing to get out of a scolding while tugging at his pants, and gaz retorts back “no no you should!” He says while his hands sneak under your shirt, fingers racking along side of your ribs and smiling playfully at you “you got more to show” and it keeps going like that, conversations holding a playfully tone while giving more suggestions on how to get Price’s approval, til gaz is straddling your waist and grinding his clothed cock onto your own, hitched breathes interrupting his words eyes fluttering shut, and before the two of you know it you’re cumming in your pants while the both of you are moaning Price’s name
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Trauma asks u say 👀
Ya boy has absolutely self harmed before bane. Spending 10 years in slavery, there's no way he didnt try to escape other ways >.>
Haarlep probably has his form... They lived together and he canonically had to sell his body, it physically hurts my soul that Haarlep probably has teen Gorty memorized.
His face is irreparably damaged, he knows that, it probably hurts to think about what he might have looked like with out the constant abuse reshaping his face
He's probably got food trauma... I can't imagine him being fed regularly or enough when he was enslaved.
(Have you seen his base model? He's got some (2?) little light freckles below his belly button hidden in his happy trail.)
anon i am grabbing you by the cheeks and giving you the biggest kiss known to man bc you simultaneously fed me after I've been starving for 100 years and also trampled all over my heart but I'm THANKING you for it
i can totally see him mindlessly scratching his forearms bc he used to claw the shit out of them in the HoH out of frustration (and also read my fic about his self-punching 🙌) which is why he has them covered at all times with thick ass gauntlets.
also imagining him looking in the mirror and wondering what Could have been had he not been mutilated so young,,,.
And also i love to think he would indulge in feasts and a billion sweets once he's rich and well off but you're so right with the eating issues thing,, man's has always scraped by for a piece of rotten food, he probably can't physically tolerate overeating and has to throw up or he'll die
also what do you MEAN with the light freckles!! what do you imply!!
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