#and my art teacher said i needed to work on actual backgrounds

[angelcatsiel]

feeling a bit frustrated today, like I can't do anything right. yesterday was kinda rough, I had one of those days where I dropped every single thing I picked up and was trying to get stuff done but ended up using up all my energy picking things up off the floor and cleaning up spills, meaning I made almost zero progress with anything, but now I'm worn out today.

my parsley seeds still haven't germinated even though my friends seeds from the same pack, planted at the same time, are growing well, so I guess I must be doing something wrong? and I really, REALLY tried to do some nice cartoony cat drawings last night, because I am dying to learn how to draw things that are not realism, but they turned out... way too realistic. as always. do artists usually use photo/real life references to draw cartoony/not realistic stuff? I feel like this is a stupid question, but how does that... work? how do you not automatically translate all the little details to your drawings? how to you draw an expression on an animal that doesn't have those expressions in real life? I feel like I'll have to learn by copying other artists, but I don't want to learn by simply copying, and I'm worried that will lead to me just drawing in other people's styles. maybe I'm just being impatient, but I've had this problem for years. I struggle to draw anything that is not a direct copy of something else. my realism drawings are good, but that's all they are, copies of a photo. even back in school, I got praised for my excellent realism drawings of things I was interested in, but when I tried to do something that strayed from that in any way, I performed so badly that my art teacher accused me of deliberately doing it badly just to be difficult.

idk I'm just having one of those days where I feel like I'm no good at anything. not really a productive thought, but idk how to get past it. I know people will say the answer is practice, but... I feel like I don't know how.

[heretherebeturtles-comic]

Hello! Many people have said this but ill say it too, I LOVE YOUR COMIC SO MUCH ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

I really wanted to ask you about how you do the backgrounds? (Something i struggle with) whats the process? Like from start to finish, also, to do the rise backgrounds do you use reference from the show and generally real photo of ny? Or do you come up with them? And last question- The shadow and light on the background- Like HOW

i know it’s a lot of questions but i’m just so curious qwq and wanna learn to be better, thank you again in case you read this and respond, in case you don’t, i hope you have a nice day and a wonderful life uwu keep up the great work! (≧◡≦) ♡

Backgrounds are a really broad subject and I'm always a little overwhelmed when asked this question. Just like drawing the human body, backgrounds take time, repetition, and practice!

My answer got a bit long, so it's going under a read more :) but if you digest info better in video format I found this on youtube

It pretty much goes over everything I wanted to say, but in a much better way. I wish I had found it before writing all this out lol

ok, first of all, I'm not a teacher nor was I built to be one of those cool helpful art tutorial people who do a full coloured tutorial filled with illustrations. This is just going to be a messy "how I do backgrounds / environment layouts from start to finish." kinda thing.

... lets start with a sight tangent.

Sketch from Life!!!

If you want to get better at backgrounds I recommend doing some sketching out in the real world!

When I was first getting into doing backgrounds I went to cafes and parks to just sketch the buildings and objects. Sketch rocks, flowers, clumps of grass, garbage cans, bottles, tables, street signs, etc. If you are drawing a tree observe how the trunks twist, how the bark flows, or how the leaves are bunched.

If you can't leave the house the same still applies! Sketch the interiors of your house, the walls, or common objects like chairs and bookshelves. How are objects stacked? items on the floor?

If you aren't comfortable with drawing outside or in public you can take some photos to draw from! They are good for practice and you can use them again as references later. Alternatively you can find pictures online of buildings and objects to sketch as practice.

All spaces have objects in them, it becomes easier to draw those kinds of spaces when you already have spent time observing and sketching them.

ALSO! They don't have to be good sketches! It's just to build out your mental catalogue and strengthen your perception of perspective.

now the actual thing...

BACKGROUNDS

(the pictures used for this are my own. I dug them out of my 2022 folder)

Backgrounds have slightly different rules based on what you are making them for. Videogame Environment Concept Art vs Animation Layouts vs Comic Backgrounds vs Illustration backgrounds.

They all follow the same basics, which I will go over here, but the intention and function of those designs are going to be different. It's all about how you set up the scene and what it's purpose is!

Brainstorming and Thumbnailing

I like to think about a location as though it is a character. An abandoned old house with creaky sagging floorboards is very different from a futuristic space ship with sharp metal floor panels. A gas station has a very different feeling from a library.

I usually start by asking what is this location's story? Why was it built and for what purpose? What kinds of things does this room need to fulfill that purpose? You don’t need solid answers, but its good to be thinking about it while you are working.

Next, sketch some ideas for how this place is going to look. For me, this usually involves drawing the idea from multiple angles and then making lists & small sketches of the objects I think should be filling the space.

Example: The main character of my original work is a Wanderer. They collect a lot of things on their travels, but those items have to be small enough to be easily carried in a backpack. I wanted his room to be in the corner of an attic, walled off by curtains, and filled with trinkets. You can see some of my brainstorming above.

References

I only look for references after I've done some sketching and planning; this is to solidify my idea first so that I don't accidentally copy anyone else's work. I will make a moodboard with pictures of lighting, colours, items, rooms with specific ceiling beams, old chairs, etc. basically whatever I feel fits the vibe.

Honestly, I don't use references as much as I should. For ROTTMNT fanart I look at backgrounds and screenshots from the series to study the style. I also reference actual photos of NYC to get a feel for how Rise condenses the visual information.

In general, it's good to have references of real life objects/locations, because there are so many details like cracks in pavement, stickers on polls, crowning on buildings, fancy fencing, weird chair legs, etc. that you might not think of. It's the imperfect details that can make a location feel more alive.

Perspective

Once you have your chosen sketch we move to.... the infamous perspective boxes. Doing backgrounds is just learning to be comfortable drawing So Many boxes and carving items out of them.

Many better artists than myself have made videos on perspective, vanishing points, and all the technical bits. Videos like THIS ONE and THIS ONE are helpful (this post is great too!!). There are probably a lot of classes to be found on Skillshare or Schoolism. I learned a lot of this in my college art course, so I can't give you a specific video which helped me.

You can get by and be a good artist without learning this stuff. There are quite a few successful artists who have admitted they never bothered to learn perspective (one of these people even made a whole graphic novel series).

I personally avoided properly learning this stuff until I was in my 20s because I thought it would be boring and difficult to do. tbh I really wish I had learned it earlier because it's so much fun to make those silly little boxes imo. It looks scary and complicated but, just like drawing humans, it just takes time, repetition, and practice to develop the knowledge and skills.

Cleanup

You have your boxes and lines! Cool! Now to make a scene out of it. Fill in the details, get everything placed were you want it! Generally, the lines of each item will point back towards the horizon line, but they can have different perspective points.

Generally you would want to clean it up and get your room completely sketched before doing the lineart. I tend to combine the steps (not recommended)

Lineart

I've mentioned how I do this before. Closer objects have thicker lines and more detailed inside. Further objects have thinner lines and less detail. I didn't quite achieve that balance with the image below, but it's close enough.

Colours and Shading will have to be a separate post. In the meantime, I highly recommend the book "Color and Light" by James Gurney. I used to borrow it from my local library and a good chunk of my knowledge was learned from it :)

[miseta]

Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking 

Starting over In Madrid

Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)

After moving to Madrid as the new Real Madrid photographer, Nicky's eyes can't look away from the pretty face of Misa Rodriguez. But how is she going to handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her working contract's strictly forbidding her to date players?

Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope

Holà, this is chapter 3. Not sure about the trigger warnings but I don't think it needs one. I think the way I want to tell my story works better by leaving some suspense. Let's say it's a slow burn and obviously and they will make out one day, so at a time there will be some explicit but not crude scenes. Reminder: I'm french. Don't hesitate to tell me if there there's very strange sentences or things you don't get. Sorry I hope to get better by writing.  

3K words

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

"That one’s actually very good, Hayley !" The camera screen displayed the goalkeeper in the air, her jumping body suspended as she grabbed the ball in her gloves. Droplets of sweat nimbed her forehead and spread all around her. Her thick brows were frowned in the effort. In addition to her beauty, what made the photo stood out was the technically tricky to capture action of Misa s’moving body. 

Things were surprisingly going well at the Ciudad. Nothing had changed between Misa and I and as I was getting very fond of my job so I had commited for it to stay that way. We were having photo lessons almost every day after training sessions, occasionally joined by the northern girls Sofie, Freja and Caroline. But most of the time, it was the three of us that sat in a pitch corner, talking for hours until the staff would finally kicked us out of the stadium. 

"Thanks Nicky! I’m thinking about buying a camera, I love photography for real!." Boasted Hayley. 

"You should, teacher says you’re ready". Hayley had indeed proven herself an implicated student. She had applied my technical advices but she had also been willing to experiment on her own. As a result, she showed a taste for moving models and lights effects. Sometimes she would take neat actions with sharp details, sometime she’d rather set the presets to create blurry scenes where the bodies outlines melted in the background. 

As to Misa… well Misa’s photos were Misa’s. She was having a hard time to concentrate and her taste level was really questionnable. She would put too much grain or contrast. Every shots were oddly framed. When I tried to guide her toward subtler artistic choices, she had said "Pero me gusta el efecto !" or "Vale Nicky, but I am the artist" with her now well known over the top manners. Misa was much: pretty, athletic, funny, goofy… and stubborn. She was doing everything at a hundred per cent, perhaps except listening.

So, I was rather irritated when she sat on the grass, ostentatiously sulking because I had not complimented her own work. Hayley, of course, wasn’t helping. "Maria Isabel hasn’t done her homework but wants to be praised!". 

"I did but teacher doesn’t like me !" She moaned. 

"Maria Isabel should be in detention." I said calmly. 

"Por qué !? No !" She shot me an offended look and grumpily crossed her arms on her chest. 

"Porque no escuchas nada and teacher is fed up." I was clearly enjoying myself at teasing Misa with the most calm. 

"You don’t like my style, that’s all." She laid on her back, arms still crossed. Hayley walked over her, bent and angled the camera into her face and started taking pictures of the moody girl. "It’s because you don’t have one sweetie" She said. Misa opened her mouth wide, outraged. She rolled over on her belly, hiding her face from Hayley unceasing photoshoot. "Come on Misa! I’m sure you can do better, you’re not even trying!" 

"I may have one last idea to help Misa get it…"Both head turned to me." There is a photo exhibit at Matadero Art Center just now. Maybe we should give it a try. And Misa will find what she likes." 

"That would be great !" Said Hayley. She had stopped taking pictures and was now sat besides the goalkeeper. Misa moved to the side. "I already know what I like" she said frowning. We stared at her, eyebrows raised. "All right, we’ll go to your museo…". She sat up still pouting. "But before…" She stood up and reached out to me with an incredible speed. She easily heaved me in her arms and had me laying on my back before I got to know what was happening. "Misaaaa what the fuck ?!"

Misa, on all four over me, smirked and pined me to the ground with her strong hands. "Let’s switch roles ! Hayley come over and take some silly photos of Nicky for a change !" I was laughing hard and… getting aroused by Misa topping me. Her firms grasp and her weight were burying my hands into the grass. A naughty smile appeared on her beautiful face. "Let me go !" I shouted. I was breathing hard from struggle against her and from growing frankly excited. Hayley clicked madly on the camera trigger. She couldn’t see Misa’s penetrating gaze. Was it me or was she breathing harder too while keeping me lying down didn’t seem to cost her in the slightest? I closed my eyelid, too aware of the lens focused on me to look Misa in the eyes. Too turned on by everything that was going on… appart from the oppressing clicking noise and Hayley’s presence. 

"I think we’re good and that it will be ugly, I promise" I heard Hayley. I felt the pression of Misa’s hands disappeared. I opened my eyes to find she had straighten up. Her legs on each side of my waist, she was peering down at me intensely. "I think you deserved that" she said, satisfied. 

"I don’t think I deserved that much" I responded, catching my breath. 

"You two, go get a room it’s becoming embarrassing ! Cuidad is closing, we have to leave". I had almost forgotten Hayley. Her voice was taking me back to reality. We both smiled nervously. 

Misa got up, held out her hands to help me standing. As I took them she pulled me a bit too strongly, I lost balance and landed against her. My mouth touched the base of her neck only a second. She smelled a mix of sweat and perfume. She steadied me in her arms an instant. "I just saved the teacher, does it mean I’m no longer in detention ?" She released me. She hadn’t lost her smirk. 

I composed myself again and took my authoritarian tone at once. "You are grounded for a month, both of you ! And in detention at the museum without question!"  

***

I called Angela on the evening. I felt the urged to talk. Not especially about me. I just wanted to feel the connection with my best mate again but surely the conversation topic went on my new footballer friends. 

"… and you’ve given them photo lessons almost every day ? Wow, Nicky I didn’t know you had that kind of patience !" 

"How you would you know Angela, Madrid is changing me. I am a much more sensible and patiente personne." 

"Still hard to believe… Anyway, I’m glad you hang with them. I like this Hayley, fuck the clause I would have seen you getting together. She has a sensitive fiber like you and seems fun !"

"humm, no Hayley’s a friend." I was laying down in my bed, calling Angela for at least an hour and a half now. I pictured Hayley in my mind. In derry, she was the total package and the two of us were really getting along well. But as pretty as she was, I wasn’t attracted by her. I was, despite all my efforts, always caught up with my attraction to Misa. Her poor photographer skills and moody behavior were so endearing to me and I felt more and more charmed by the goalkeeper’s whole personality. 

"Nicky are you there ?" I didn’t realized I had stopped listening. 

"Sorry ? What ?" 

"I was saying I admire you, just being friend with such hotties ! I couldn’t !

"Yeah, incredible right ?! I closed my eyes, I was sure Angela had heard the nervousness of my tone.  

"Oh no Nicky! Which one ?!" I smiled. It felt good she knew me so well.

"You won’t believe me…" 

"Spit it out !"

"It’s Misa…" I was gazing at the celling, my absent smile widened as I spoke her name. 

"Misa?? But she seems… I mean you don’t seem to have a lot in common."

"I know, anyway I shouldn’t even think about it…"

"But you do… ?" 

I heavily sighed. Misa’s smirking face appeared in front of my eyes. "Yes… but I also think about the clause, the fact that I’m bound to it, that my working visa depends on this job that I love, and so is my lease…"

"Ok ok Nicky it’s alright, calm down. You’re finding a girl cute, what a big deal? You’re at least allowed that ! You are not doing anything wrong, you’re not doing anything at all, relax !" 

"You’re right" As usual, Angela had found the words to reassure me. "But still, fucking clause !" I sweared. 

"Fucking clause…" echoed Angela. 

***

I received a message from Hayley on the morning before the exhibition visit. 

My family are paying me a surprise visit just now. They came from Sidney I had no idea !!! This is crazy sorry for the museum I really wanted to go but I’ll spend the day with them. Im so happy 

I answered it was ok and to enjoy her family time. Then I texted Misa. 

"Hayley’s family’s just showed up and she can’t come. Do you still wanna go ?"

Misa’s text bubble appeared and disappeared a few times leaving me wondering what answer I was wishing for. 

"Do I have the choice ? I thought it was my punishment…" 

I grined, loving her playful side. Or was she … flirting ? 

"You’re right but teacher would rather you go to your detention willingly." 

"huh teacher wants a lot. What else teacher wants from me ?" 

I gasped. She was flirting ! My mind ran wild, imagining the numerous things I craved from Misa. I breathed out deeply, tried to focus again as I pictured myself fiery kissing her. I had to take control of my brain again. I had to bury the surging wave of desire I felt at the simple idea of Misa wishing to give me what I wanted. 

"Teacher wants you to have a good time" was the most diplomatic and sober answer I could come up with. I quickly added "See you then" to put a stop to that dangerous conversation. 

"I’d say let’s see what’s going to happen. See you Nicky"

Wow, she was going for real ! How the hell was I going to survive the afternoon ?! 

***

I was gulping down hard when I joined Misa at the entrance of Matadero Arts Center of Madrid. I felt so tensed when we hugged but Misa appeared to be her usual self. Once again, she gave no sign that something was going on between us and once again I wondered if I hadn’t misjudged her intentions. 

We headed inside. The center was formed by many huge bricked houses which happened to be old slaughterhouses. None of the previous gloomy functions of the place has remained, it was now very pleasant to walk in the large aisles between the red buildings. In the middle of the afternoon, the sun was knocking hard on our heads. Misa was looking all around us, her hand above her dazzled eyes. "It’s a shame I’ve never been there before, living all these years in Madrid" 

We reached the exhibition hall a few minutes later. I bought the tickets. Misa was following me closely. She clearly wasn’t in her element as we moved forward inside the vast hall. The exhibition was called "Deportes: fotografía en movimiento" and shown various approaches of taking picture of athletes. I was surprised to see Misa very focused. She looked at each photo, paused a long time when she seemed interested or intrigued by something. 

"Misa, look at this one" The framed picture was showing gymnasts doing incredible acrobatic tricks. "Look at the geometric composition, that's what I was trying to explain about framing." Misa shook her head with enthusiasm. "I think I get it now, yes. But I have found what I want to do." 

She took my hand and led me to a more hidden corner where another series of photos were displayed on the walls. "Wait, what ?" I let out. There were cats and dogs on every pictures, and even a baby pig. "They are the athlete’s pets" She said happily. She hasn’t let go of my hand. "I think I want to photograph animals, or nature." She came to face me with the cutest smile, and thought I had severe doubts this was going to help Misa progress technically, I replied "Yes! Ok! Let’s give a try on naturalistic photography!". 

She smiled more widely, her hand still in mine, and her fingers softly stroked my palm while she loosened her grip. I started to panic. Her lips wore a more discreet smile as she watched me unsurely. She took a step forward. I had to react quickly but I didn’t want her to feel rejected. 

"Come on, I’m taking you to the park along the river. There is plenty of birds and plants for you to shoot." I grasped her hand back to take us out of the hall and out of the prickly situation. 

However, as we arrived at the park, I realized I had put myself in an even more perilous condition. The sun was setting. A light breeze was blowing in the trees. Birds were melodiously twitting nearby. An empty bench shield from the view was waiting for us at the end of a very lovely flowery path. I tried hard not to look at Misa. She was walking close to me, unusually quiet. I dared to take a look at her. She caught my side-eye and a shy smile appeared on her lips. What did I do? She was probably getting all wrong, imagining I had picked such a romantic place on purpose! 

We reached the oh so welcoming bench. None of us spoke as we sat. I starred at the distance. I was feeling my heart pounding hard in my chest. Misa was looking at her laps, timid all of a sudden. I had to say something. 

"You should try to shoot those flowers for a start" I tried as a diversion. "The red and bleu ones that look like the Barça kit. See, I’ve learnt about football." I added wanting to diminish the growing tension. "Oh no Barça please…" She rubbed a hand across her face. I had clearly said the wrong thing. 

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you" I put my hand on her shoulder. Her long hair was partially hiding her face. "Do… do you want to talk about it ?" I said hesitantly. She tensed. 

"You don’t know about the Clasico. We keep loosing against them every times and honestly, I’m used to it. It’s ok even though I’m doing my best but…" her voice trailed down as she took a deep breath. "Next Clasico is one week away and that’s the finale of the Copa de la Reina." She lifted her head to look me in the eyes. "I don’t know if I can take the pressure this time..." She was talking so openly to me. The fierce and funny goalkeeper was allowing her unsecured part to finally surface. And that was when I realized I cared for her. 

I took Misa into a hug. She sighed and buried her face in my neck. "You can do it Misa. I don’t know you for very long but I am certain that you can." She stayed there, her heavy breathing gently blowing my hair. "I really want to win!" She almost cried. "We keep doing better but we haven’t won any Spanish championship! Quiero ganar ostia!" She lifted her head again and I stopped hugging her. I was glad to see a frustrated grin back on her face. "You can do it! Hala Madrid! I feel part of the family now." I genuinely said to boost her up. She let out a soft laugh and ran her fingers through her hair. She took my hand again. "Gracias" she muttered. Her brown eyes found mine again. Her expression was so soft at this very moment. Her gaze went down to my mouth. I wanted to kiss her so bad. Her slightly parted lips quivered. My chest was about to explode as I slowly moved my face closer to hers.

At that precise moment, a loud buzzing sound came from Misa's pocket and had us both jump in fear. Misa straightened herself and took her phone out. I sled appart on the bench, breathing out a mix of relief and deep frustration. 

"Holà Jenni" Misa answered in a slightly irritated voice. "no, no conozco las noticias…" She rolled her eyes at me. I was too shaken to be amused by the situation. Misa and Jenni kept on talking on the phone. In fact, it was more like Misa was listening to an unstoppable Jenni. I wasn’t getting much of the quick flowing Spanish of Misa. Besides, I was once again buried deep in my thoughts. My heart and reason were battling heavily against each other. Misa was getting seriously annoyed the call wouldn’t finish. She was founding hard to even speak a world between the endless sentences of her best friend. She turned for me to read the word "Perdón!" on her lips several times as I scrolled mechanically on my phone. 

Minutes went by and night started to fall when Misa finally hung up. "I’m so sorry I should never have taken that call !" She sighted. I got up quickly "No prob. But it’s getting late, we should get going". Reason had won over heart for now. Or at least, chance had buy me time to really sort things out. Misa looked up at me, surprised. She hadn’t expected that. This time I didn’t dared to even take a glimpse at her. As I gave her no reaction, she let her head fall down in her hands. I heard her taking a deep breath before she finally stood up and started following me. 

Lulled by the light swing of the train, a part of me had cooled down. An other part was going crazy for real. Misa was wanting me. A calm, almost pleasant panic was filling me entirely on the way home. 

Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clasico

[marvel-ous-m]

Been thinking about modern AU Elementary School Librarian!Eddie and Substitute Teacher!Steve.

Eddie, who doesn’t really know how he ended up working at the school. A series of events that made him luck out, he supposed. He had always loved books, and practically lived at the public library in between working at the shop and sleeping. He had gotten to know the librarians there over time, had familiarized himself with the Dewey Decimal System from browsing the aisles, and had begun to explore different genres of books after finishing his sci-fi/fantasy bucket list. One evening, while he was curled up on one of the couches in the corner, re-reading The Hobbit for the hundredth time, a little girl with fire-red hair and her front two teeth missing ran up to him and begged him to read to her. He had glanced around the room for a moment, searching for the girl’s parent, but came up with nothing. At a loss, he decided he might as well read to her.

They got through three books that the girl- Max, she had said her name was- had picked out. By the end of his time reading to her, a small group of kids had crowded around him, and a couple of parents were on the outskirts of the makeshift circle smiling at him, clearly pleased that their kids were enjoying “story time”. One of the librarians noticed too, apparently. As Eddie was leaving to walk back to his apartment that night, he was slid a printed-out job posting for the librarian at the elementary school. Eddie never really saw himself as a ‘kids’ guy, but reading to them had been the highlight of his day, and they had all said he’d done the voices well… maybe this would be a good thing. Certainly better than the muscle strain he had almost daily from fixing cars.

So he submitted a resume. He got a letter of recommendation from the librarian who slid him the job posting, and somehow, even without having any certification past his High School Diploma, he landed an interview. They had been desperate, apparently. It was a tiny school in their tiny town and they needed someone to fill in. After only fifteen minutes, he got offered the job- pending results of a four week job shadow with the retiring librarian they were trying to replace and background checks. Two months later and he had become a well-established faculty member at the school, ‘Mr. M’, who did the best monster voices (according to the kids), decorated the library to make it look like it was out of a fairytale (with the help of the art teacher and his now-best-friend Robin Buckley), and even filled in for the music teacher on occasion. It was the best thing to ever happen to him.

Roughly three years after he was hired, he finds one of his lunch breaks being interrupted by Mrs. Harrington’s 3rd grade class. She had always been a bit of a bitch, but she never operated off-schedule. Eddie put his lunch away and observed as the kids flooded into the library and ran around, all finding a book to read or an activity to quietly play with. Will Byers (one of his favorite kids- not that he had favorites, but he totally did) ran up to him, holding watercolor markers and giving him puppy dog eyes. Eddie sighed and rolled up his sleeve, then helped Will sit on his desk so he could reach Eddie’s arm better. Will had asked about Eddie’s tattoos at the beginning of the year, wondering why there wasn’t any color on some of them, and then had been determined to color them in. And Eddie? Well, he couldn’t say no to the kid. Plus it was pretty adorable to have his ‘metal’ tattoos covered in washable marker.

“Will! Did he say you could do that?” Eddie looked up at the exclamation, surprised to come face-to-face with somebody who was definitely not Mrs. Harrington.

“Wait- who are you? Do I need to get the security guard?”

“What? No- no, I’m Mrs. Harrington’s substitute. They sent an email out about me I think? I’m- her son, actually. But you can just call me Steve. Or- probably Mr. Steve in front of the kids? I’m still kind of new at this- my mom called me last week and said she needed to stop teaching for a while because she needed to go on my dad’s business trips with him, she’s always been a bit suspicious of what he really does on the trip, and since I just got my teaching certification she figured it would be best for me too be her substitute- and shi-oot, shoot, I’m totally over sharing right now- it’s just the kids begged me to come here and they weren’t doing our math activity so I kinda panicked-“

“Whoa, alright, slow down big boy.” Eddie chuckled under his breath, then grabbed a sticky note and a pen with his free hand and scrawled out his number. Once he was done he handed it to Steve with a smirk. “I’m absolutely terrible at checking my email. So there ya go- the first number is for my cell- teaching these rascals can be a handful, especially with Henderson and Mayfield in your class, so feel free to text me anytime. We can talk about school or… other things.” Eddie let his eyes take in the man in front of him- and damn, this guy was hot.

Steve blushed, stuttering as he spoke. “A-and the second?” Oh shit, he wasn’t just hot, he was cute too. Eddie suddenly wanted to make Steve this flustered all the time.

“Second number is my extension for the phones here, if the kids get to be too much I can come down the hall for a visit and get them focused while you take a break. They have library time on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 1pm to 2:30pm.” Eddie smiled at him, softer this time. “I’m sure you’re doing a great job. They’re just antsy because of the change- but I think they’d like anybody more than your mom- um, no offense.”

“None taken, she’s a bitc- um, a not super nice lady.” Steve coughed, smiling nervously. “Still getting used to kid-friendly language.”

Eddie shook his head fondly. This was certainly the start of something very interesting.

[slylock-syl]

hallo!! i have a class where i get to work on a single, big independent project and i’m planning on making a comic. under/source has been one of my favorites for a long time so i was just wondering how you started out making it and the process and any tips etc etc. my teacher said a 22-page series would suffice and i have ibispaint and procreate at my disposal. thanks!! <3<3

dskjgLSKDJ A! I'm honored!

The way I started everything was more or less I forced myself to sit down and work on it, cuz I knew if I didn't I would procrastinate it into oblivion and never start it-

First I make sure I have the plot figured out and scripted out so drawing the scenes goes (relatively) smooth, always keep in mind rewrites can be done at ANY stage if needed! If I get stuck somewhere or need to think, often I'll get up and pace around the room just thinking. If I get REALLY stuck then I'll leave the section alone to return to it later and continue writing other scenes.

For the drawing stage, personally I break down the process amongst multiple days, having a schedule to stick to REALLY helps me X'D I use Clip Studio myself so my process may differ a bit.

Day 1: The roughest sketch imaginable, where the pages are planned out in the loosest, stick figured sketches for basic planning

Day 2: Find and place any assets I may need in the pages, like new brushes or objects, models/posing, etc

Day 3: Rough sketch time, where the stick figures actually become something I can turn into line art

Day 4: Line art day, where I usually complete all the line art and some other character details

Day 5: Coloring day, I do ALL the coloring for both the characters and the backgrounds, and finish any other character details

Day 6: Everything else because posting is in a few hours! XD, any background shading/modifications, character shading/modifications, the borders, text, and any other FX or details

Day 7: Day off, either a complete day off or a day 100% reserved for doing any other work (commissions, other comic work/projects, etc)

That's more or less my full process! Some steps can definitely be consolidated into less days but this seems to work best for my brain XD Good luck on your project! 💜

[chibigaia-art]

how did you learn to draw? Would you recommend any classes or certain resources? do you have any tips, general or hyperspecific or anywhere in between, other than "just practice"?

sorry to bombard you with questions. I'm just a frustrated amateur artist trying desperately to improve, so I'm asking around some of the artists i particularly like.

I learned to draw by bashing my head on my desk for several hours, which means practice (sorry,) and also by staring intently at artists I like, trying to 'steal' how they draw some things

I never followed a class online, so I wouldn't be able to give out recommendations for those, and I haven't actually looked up an art tutorial online in years so I can't remember anything, but here's a few resources/general tips under the cut

RESOURCES

haven't used this myself, but my teachers during the first year at comic school mentioned proko as a good YT channel for beginners

quickposes - useful for gesture drawing, I acc use this one when I feel like I need to draw but dont have any ideas

I know some people use designdoll for poses as well, I never used it myself because I tend to use the csp models for that, but if you don't have csp, I think it's a good alternative

coolors - for color palettes

adorkastock - more poses! I don't check it anymore at this point but it was my first actual 'art landmark' when I was a kid and I needed to find some poses, I could always rely on their photoshoots

I'm not linking any tutorials because, as I said, I haven't looked up any online in 10+ years, but I used to watch a lot of speedpaints as a teen, and it should be fairly easy to find decent tutorials on YT at this point;

GENERAL TIPS

if you have a sketchbook, please don't let the internet make you believe every single page has to be a masterpiece, that attitude is gonna break you

not everything will be a hit piece and thats ok

when shading, avoid pure black

experiment with styles!

when inking, you shouldn't move just your wrist but use your elbow as well! also rotate your canvas, both when doing traditional art and digital

true to traditional and digital art as well - flip the canvas to see the art mirrored and find mistakes (for traditional you can hold up the paper to a source of light and look at it from the back)

use references whenever possible

what works for another artist might not work for you ( re my ink tip: I follow that, but I know a couple mutuals don't do that and their art still slaps and looks clean and crisp)

when drawing a full illustration with a background, work on the background perspective first and THEN add the character,, this should be basic knowledge but my idiot ass actually processed this info only a few years ago

learn how to use perspective grids asap, dont be like me

IF YOU DON'T WANT TO LINE YOU DON'T HAVE TO!!! be free

rule of thirds is always useful to keep in mind

I'm not super good at giving advice because tbh I don't think I'm good enough to give it, but I hope at least one of these things will help you out!

[tartrat]

I want to give some more context to the Knight Light Painting that I'm working on for school.

The theme that we have to work on is based around viewpoints and i have gone with how people interpret fictional characters and how they completely change them, as well as how an outsider would view these actions.

So how does Knight Light fall into this theme?

Well firstly, since his backstory is kind of vague (it really is just him triumphing over luminous in battle that lasted like a week at most and being stranded in the light realm) and his personality is just typical Knight and Angel stuff, I wanted to add on to it to give my own view on it.

My headcanon for him is that, he is just lost, tries his best to make others happy and always sacrifices himself for them, but doesn't know that they don't care, after losing his parents and sibling he feels a continuous need to try and protect the other Light skylanders (mainly Astroblast and Aurora), has strange relations with the rest of the trap masters. I feel like i should make a whole post relating to these headcanons but the basic takeaway is that i view him more as someone who has to put up a strong front but isn't fine inside. Again I would need to fully explain in it's own post.

Face wise i wanted to change the emotions he's showing from a somewhat stern look to a more solemn one contrasting with the brightness of the armour. Relating to this is my colour choice for his armour. In game its pure white, but the figure as an iridescent purple glitter to it. However, in this painting I'm making it look pink and purple. Knight Light does have a quite masculine design, so i want the pink and purple to contrast as well as make his armour appear softer to match the expression on his face. The now actually yellow/golden background (previously supposed to be a light greyish yellow but came out as a vomit green) is there to make the colours less harsh as well as unintentionally being close to the colour that was used for Knight Light and spotlight's official artwork background.

I guess that what drew me towards him compared to the other skylanders that were in my collection was that he was my first Light element skylander and that was what was special, and surprisingly not the fact that I was an eight year old boy who these buff heroes were to appeal to, well thats part of it now so maybe he was part of my realisation that I was gay (that and probably preferring to play as the girl ghostbuster in the ghostbusters wii game because she was a lot cooler than the guy)

It is hard to explain this sort of stuff to a teacher so I'm my sketchbook I literally just said "The game he is from is very vague with his backstory, like with all characters in the series" which to an extent is true, however other characters such as Spyro (coincidentally sharing a voice actor with Knight Light) are more fleshed out because they were around from the start.

If i were to able to analyse better this would be more coherent. I do want to talk about Just Dance maps (as Just Dance is actually my main interest) and give my own thoughts and theories on them so I'll probably make a side blog for that. This post mainly serves as an exercise for me to get better at giving context in my school art work.

Anyway to basically end me explaining a headcanon and school work i leave you with the refence photo (top) and two extra photos that i took to decide on (ignore the last one being sideways).

I don't know if this will make much sense to anyone else so when i actually finish the painting I'll rewrite this when i develop my thoughts more, as there is more i want to say but I don't know how to phrase it as of now.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Yuu can do it!

Part 22

First<Previous>Next

Masterlist

The brand new side-shenanigans fic has come out so I'm going to plug it HERE

Enma wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he went to go pick up Kuroki and Grim from their class on yagujen, but it certainly wasn’t to find Ito with them.

He raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t you supposed to be in…” He trailed off, his eyebrows furrowing as he struggled to remember what their schedule was.

“Religion. And, yeah, I left. Professor Frollo’s vibes were off,” they said, their nose scrunching.

Kuroki mouthed that Enma shouldn’t ask and, for once, Enma decided that maybe there were questions he didn’t need the answers to.

“Can you transfer out?” He asked instead.

They shrugged. “Doubt it. Those contracts we signed seemed binding. But I saw – uh – B…B… letras… Vanrouge-senpai before I left, so I’ll just get the assignments from him.”

Enma nodded. There had been an empty seat next to him in his art class and the teacher hadn’t seemed concerned nor surprised, so it probably wasn’t a big deal to skip here.

But… he fought off the smirk threatening to play across his features as a terrible realization came to him. Enma sniffed and pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “Wait, you could go anywhere and you went to hang out with him?”

“I’m Ito’s favorite,” Kuroki caught on quickly, grinning.

“You’re Ito’s favorite,” Enma nodded along.

Ito rolled their eyes. “It’s ‘cause, out of the two of you, I trust Enma to not get his ass kicked on the first day a lot more.”

Kuroki sputtered. “Hey! That’s only because of Grim!”

“And you’re the one that wanted him,” Ito reminded him, reaching over to poke his nose.

Grim gave them a look that would be more fitting if they had killed his child right in front of them. Since they did not, as far as Enma was aware, he thought the monster might be overreacting a little. “Everyone wants me.”

Ito hummed and patted the monster on the top of the head. “Very true. My mistake, Grim-sama.”

Grim nodded, easily placated.

Now this just wouldn’t do. Enma sniffed. “You don’t have to make excuses, Ito. Just say Kuorki is the favorite. I won’t hold it against you, promise.”

Ito groaned. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I can’t wait to go to work for Crowley. Fuck you guys.”

Kuroki gave them a disgusted look. “I’d rather not.”

Ito gave him a tiny shove. “I hate you both. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

“No promises,” Grim said. At least he was self-aware.

“Yeah, I figured that was too much to hope for.”

~

“There really are chestnuts all over the place!” Grim said.

Which, thank you for stating the obvious, Grim. Enma hadn’t noticed. Honestly, you’d think they were playing a visual novel where the graphic designers hadn’t had enough budget to create another background. They could see the chestnut trees.

(Which, as far as he could tell, were perfectly normal. The chestnuts didn’t even seem to be larger than normal. Sad.)

Deuce grinned, pushing himself up from where he and Ace had been waiting under a tree. He held out a hand to help Ace up as well, but Ace ignored it.

“Took you guys long enough,” Ace teased. “Weren’t your guys’ classes closer than ours?”

Kuroki shrugged. “We were tormenting Ito.”

Deuce and Ace nodded sagely. Enma and Kuroki nodded back. An understanding had been met.

But, sadly, this couldn’t go on forever; Enma had work soon, so he reminded them all that they needed to get a move on at some point.

“So, 250, right? So divided by the five of us, that’s… 50 each, right?”

“Yeah,” Ace said. And then his eyes strayed to Grim and he grimaced. “Er… actually… it’ll probably be closer to 60 each, if we’re gonna be honest with ourselves.”

“The more the better! If we get enough, maybe we can have all-you-can-eat chestnut tarts! Let’s get to picking!” Grim launched himself from his usual spot and curled around Kuroki’s shoulders

“Wait,” Enma said, pulling a branch down to inspect it closer.

Kuroki’s hand shot out just in time to snag Grim by the tail. The monster squeaked and bounced back towards him like a rubber band. The four humans tuned out their friend’s complaints with practiced ease.

“They have thorns,” Enma pointed out.

Deuce frowned, leaning closer. “Didn’t know chestnuts had those… we should probably get some gloves. I don’t think we can pick those up with our bare hands.”

“You can do it if you’re not a coward,” Kuroki said. He pulled one from the branch, and Enma watched as his friend experienced all of the stages of grief in real time. Tiny beads of blood spilled between his fingers. “... I have made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment.”

~

Deuce and Kuroki had to go find a first aid kit, so that left Ace, Enma, and Grim to search the botanical gardens for a tool shed – or, at the very least, a caretaker.

And then they split up. A terrible thing to do when your life is ruled by no Laws other than Murphy’s.

‘It’s just a few minutes’, Enma had thought. ‘I have Grim with me so he will not be able to cause any trouble. And Ace is sometimes competent on his own. What can happen in five minutes?’

He can step on a tail. That’s what can happen.

In his defense, the area around him was gorgeous. Colorful, magical, plants surrounded him on all sides, even hanging from the ceiling. Signs with glowing script poked out from between the leaves, telling him what they were all called and what their magical properties were, and he couldn’t help glancing over every single one. How could he not get distracted? This place was practically heaven for the nerdy part of him that wanted to know everything there was to know about the new world he was in.

And, so, he stepped on what one would assume was a vine in a place like this, and jolted back in horror, thinking he had trodden on one of the plants that had so effortlessly caught his attention… and found a tail. It pulled itself away from him, slinking into a nearby bush, and Enma frowned as he started to follow after it.

A disgruntled face popped out of the bush. Their hair was a bit messy, what one would call a literal bedhead, and there was a few pieces of grass stuck to one of the man’s tan cheeks.

“Sorry,” Enma said, backing up so the man could leave his bush prison.

He did so with what was either a practiced ease or an uncaring attitude. Assumedly the first one, as the man brushed away the leaves sticking to his school uniform without even sparing them a glance.

“What are you doing in my garden?” The man asked, fixing Enma with a glower.

Enma smiled despite it. “Oh! You’re the caretaker, then? Could you help me find something?”

“He seems kinda young for that,” Grim pointed out.

“I mean, he’s older than any of the other students we’ve seen so far,” Enma reasoned. “And he could be an apprentice or something, not the caretaker, I suppose.”

The man ignored them, pulling his tail upwards to inspect it. “And stepped on my fucking tail, too…”

“And he’s more vulgar than you’d expect from someone on the school staff,” Grim added.

Enma conceded on that point.

“And I was in the middle of such a good nap. This sucks,” the maybe-not-a-caretaker continued to complain to no one.

Oh. Wait.

Enma dipped forward in apology. “I’m really sorry about that, I should have been paying more attention.”

The man’s nose twitched as Enma got closer, and he raised his eyebrows at him. “Aren’t you the herbivore from the ceremony? One of the ones that doesn’t have any magic?” He leaned closer, and Enma realized he was being sniffed. He went stock-still, unsure what to do in this kind of situation. Was this something that all yajugen do? Is it a cultural greeting? Would it be wrong to stop him? And, really, Enma had stepped on his tail, so maybe he could let the weirdness slide…? “Why do you smell like…?” The man trailed off, confused.

“I showered this morning,” Enma said, more self-conscious than he had ever been before.

“Earth,” the man decided. “That’s what you smell like. Earth.”

Enma reeled back, no longer concerned about the potential social ramifications as he looked at the man with wide eyes. “Holy – you know what Earth is?”

The stranger looked just as confused by his reaction as Enma was by the entire interaction they were having. He nodded slowly and pointed downwards.

“We’re on… Earth?” Enma said slowly, confused.

“Yeah…?” the man said, looking at him like he was stupid.

But he wasn’t, was he? The mirror had said that Earth didn’t exist in this world, it was a whole thing, kinda the whole reason they were still in this world –.

And then it clicked.

“Oh, you mean ‘earth’ as in dirt,” he said, groaning internally because he had never felt quite so stupid before.

“Yeah? What the fuck did you think I was saying?”

“Wait, you think I smell like dirt?” He ignored him in favor of sniffing himself aggressively, but he couldn’t detect any of the supposed ‘dirt’ smell. Was it so entrenched in him that he couldn’t smell it? How would he get rid of it then? And where did it even come from? When did it start? Why did no one tell him? This interaction was making his self-esteem plummet. He was about to meet Kuroki down there.

Grim bristled on Leona’s shoulders, his fur standing on end. “Hey! No one is allowed to be mean to any of my Henchmen except for me! Who do you think you are to judge us, anyways? What, are you king or something?”

The man’s mild confusion wiped itself off of his face, and the yagujen bared his teeth at them. A low growling sound began to rumble in his throat. “Alright, you know what? You insolent whelps better prepare yourselves to lose a tooth –.”

Enma jerked back to himself, holding his hands up in a way that he hoped looked placating, but he was really just preparing himself to get into a defensive position. “Wait! What? Nonono, I’m sorry about your nap and your tail and – uh – whatever Grim said to upset you, but I’m sure there’s a better way to go about this?”

The man cocked his fist.

“Leona-saaaaaan!”

‘Leona’ flinched in surprise. The lion ears atop the man’s head flicked and he turned just in time to see another person rush into their part of the greenhouse.

This one was far shorter, but also a yagujen. Enma wasn’t sure what animal, exactly, he had traits of, but it was something furry. Besides that, though, the boy wasn’t the type that would get a second glance. Dirty blond hair and sharp blue eyes were hardly surprising in a world where approximately 1 in 5 people had white hair. His clothes were too large on him, too, which didn’t help him stand out.

The blond raced over, far faster than Enma had thought possible. Was it because he was a yagujen or a unique magic or something else? “So this is where you’ve been hiding out,” he said, shaking his head. “You’ve got remedial classes, y’know.”

“I know.”

The new stranger stared for a moment, expectant, before seeming to realize that he shouldn’t have held his breath. “You need to go to your classes.”

“You need to stop annoying me.”

“It’s ‘cause you keep failing that I gotta keep bothering you, y’know,” he said. “If you fail another year we’re gonna end up being classmates.”

“Lay off, Ruggie,” said Leona. “Why can’t you annoying people just leave so I can nap?”

“If you think… er… Ruggie-senpai is annoying now, then you might want to graduate before he ends up being classmates with you. Then you’ll never escape,” Enma pointed out.

Leona looked horrified at the very prospect. Ruggie, in turn, didn’t seem to know whether to be offended or relieved, which was fair.

Ruggie settled for neither. He just adapted to the new situation, grabbing a stunned Leona’s arm and starting to drag him out of the garden. “C’mon. It’s not like you’re stupid, you’d pass if you just tried. Let’s go.”

Leona clicked his tongue and jerked his arm out of Ruggie’s grasp, but followed along resignedly regardless. He shot one last glare Enma’s way, and Enma wasn’t completely sure which of the long series of events Leona was currently mad at him about.

But whatever. It probably wouldn’t matter, anyways. What were the chances they would see each other again? They weren’t even in the same year.

So, he sighed to himself and turned to go back

Grim frowned as he settled back down on Enma’s shoulder, his furry face tucked close to his neck. “Man, that caretaker was awful, we should file a complaint.”

Enma laughed so hard that Grim almost fell off.

~

Picking chestnuts sucked, regardless of their gloves. Not because it hurt, the gloves that Ace had found were so perfect that Enma was pretty sure they had to be enchanted in some way…

No, it was awful because Kuroki spent the entire time complaining about his hand despite the fact that it hadn’t taken all that long for it to stop bleeding, and Grim gave up once he reached the expected 10 chestnuts and curled up in the shade of a tree, and Deuce and Ace argued about whether or not Deuce was secretly a delinquent (Enma was willing to bet good money that he was, but when asked to settle the tie he had decided remaining neutral was probably the best for his health, something he came to regret when the argument did not finish), and Grim had gone on a rant about how terrible their experience with the caretaker was, and then all of them had had to explain the dorms again because Grim called Savanaclaw ‘The Banana Dorm’ of all things...

Needless to say, Enma was glad when he realized that it was about time for him to start heading to work. He pulled the last few down hastily and tossed them in the general direction of the basket before tearing off his gloves and making a break for it.

~

Ah, work. Everyone’s least favorite responsibility, outside of all of their other responsibilities. Enma was regretting running there. Especially since he hadn’t forgotten the way he had reacted to the shop the first time he had approached it. The way it felt like his skeleton was about to rattle its way right out from under its skin and try to make a break for it. He wasn’t eager to have a repeat of that, and he was even less eager to do so when he didn’t have his emotional support idiots hanging off of him.

But, surprisingly, as he made his way closer and closer, his feet picking their way along the stone paths covered in knickknacks he couldn’t make heads or tails of (and some things he thought might actually be heads and tails)... he couldn’t seem to find that weird feeling from before. Maybe it was a fluke? Or maybe he was just allergic to shady people and having both Dire Crowley and Azul Ashengrotto in the same place had given him a very adverse reaction.

Haha, funny, but also what the heck?

He brought his thumb up to his mouth to bite it, considering everything. This world was interesting, and he wanted to know more, but there was something eating away at him. Something was wrong.

The door swung open before Enma could open it, and he jolted into awareness.

“How’d you know…?”

“I have friends on the other side that tell me everything I need to know, little ghoul!” Sam said, smiling at him.

Enma continued to stare.

“There’s a window.”

Oh. Enma glanced over at the tinted glass windows. He had noticed them earlier but had forgotten about them because he was busy being vaguely unsettled by the lack of unsettling feelings.

A flush crept up his cheeks, but Sam didn’t give him all that long to dwell on it. He looped an arm over Enma’s shoulders and led him inside.

“Now, since it’s your first day, and because I’m sure that that Crow didn’t give you much, I’m going to make things easier for you.” Magenta eyes flashed. “So, I will be allowing you to shop around today – all on my dime, of course – and familiarize yourself with the placement of all of the items.”

Enma’s eyes widened. He looked up at Sam with stars in his eyes. “Really?”

“Yup. Go ahead. You have until the store opens in half an hour to look around.”

He ruffled Enma’s hair with a smile.

His smile lessened somewhat when he realized that Enma had been quietly making mental notes to himself the entire time he’d been in the magical world and, in fact, had a very detailed list of things they needed already thought up. Tinted shower curtains, blankets and pillows that hadn’t been eaten by moths, enough tuna to feed Grim and enough Coke to tide over Ito, cooking supplies, a couple of outfits for different occasions, every nonperishable food he could think of, and actually decent soaps… yeah, no, it was very clear that Sam hadn’t expected the bill to be quite as large as it was, but he learned one very crucial lesson that day: never underestimate Enma Yuuken.

“Well…” Sam said, staring at the pile of items so large that were almost falling off the counter, his eyes crinkled at the corners in something that was either pain or pride or a mix of both. “At least I know you’ll be able to handle being a customer service worker.”

[texasobserver]

“A Paris to Marfa March for Reproductive Rights” by Gayle Reaves, from the November/December issue of Texas Observer magazine:

Above: Louise Culbertson, 15, organized protests and rallies all over Texas on behalf of reproductive rights.

Louise Culbertson’s passion for political activism started when she heard about the murders of 17 students at a Parkland, Florida, school in 2018. With her mother’s help, she organized a demonstration in support of stronger gun laws in her hometown of Marfa. About 200 people showed up.

Culbertson was 10 years old at the time. She was proud to put Marfa on the map of places that had marched against gun violence, a list kept by March for Our Lives, the national organization of young people formed in the wake of Parkland to push back against the epidemic of shootings. 

It was something Marfa needed, Culbertson said. The fear of a mass shooting at her own school was real. The shooting at a Santa Fe, Texas, school had happened the same year as Parkland. Four years later, Uvalde’s tragedy would reinforce the bitter, tragic lesson. What happened at Parkland and the other schools “really, really scared me,” she said.

Fast-forward to summer of this year, and Culbertson, now 15, was organizing protests and rallies all over Texas, this time in support of reproductive rights. And doing it from Paris, France. Anger at the reversal of Roe v. Wade had turned up her activism by a couple of notches. Thanks to her mother’s French background, Culbertson and her brother had been able to enroll in school in Paris two years earlier. But Culbertson was coming home to Texas for the summer with a mission.

She started planning in April, and in May got in touch with a nonprofit called Deeds Not Words (founded by former state senator and gubernatorial candidate Wendy Davis) that helps young women build a stronger voice in politics. With their mentoring, Culbertson put together protest events in five cities. Amid Texas’ mind-numbing summer heat, she and her mom, Valerie Breuvart, drove from Austin to Houston, then to Dallas, El Paso, and home to Marfa. In Austin, only a handful of young people showed. In Houston, Dallas, and El Paso, Culbertson said, the turnout was about 20 to 30, from young teenagers to adults. Back home in Marfa, her event drew about 50 fellow protesters. In the other cities, Culbertson said, the events were in one place and featured speakers and people chanting and holding up signs. But in Marfa, she said, “We actually marched.”

“I loved it,” Culbertson said. “I definitely learned a lot. … We had great speakers.” And of course, she got to meet people all over the state and immerse herself in politics.

Where does her determination and interest in politics come from? Her father, Don Culbertson, is a physician’s assistant and her mother a teacher of art history. For more than a decade, they have owned and run a medical clinic in Marfa, with Breuvart working on the business side. “I was raised with my parents talking a lot about politics,” Culbertson said. She described them as “strong Democrats” who took her to polling places to show her how elections worked. “All my passion for politics comes from my parents cheering me along.”

The couple shared their daughter’s fears about gun violence and her concerns about the quality of the schooling that she and her brother would get in Texas. In 2021, they took a year’s sabbatical and went to France.

“We live here [in Marfa]; we have a business, our home. Louise was born on the living room floor here,” Don Culbertson said. But his wife’s background gave them the “opportunity to get a kick-ass education” in Paris for their kids. “And so we’re doing that. We’re so excited,” he said. For now, he and his wife return to Texas for a few weeks several times a year. While in France, Don Culbertson participates in the clinic via telemedicine. The whole family comes home in the summer. 

Louise Culbertson said that the language instruction she’s getting in Paris is the best part. The schools she would be going to in Texas offer little in the way of foreign language programs, she said, whereas in Paris, “half of my courses are in English, half in French, and you have to take a third language.” A small city in Texas—even if it’s Marfa—can’t offer the social life that is available in Paris, and then there are, of course, the opportunities for activism.

In Paris, Culbertson is active in a group called Democrats Abroad France doing things like helping register Americans to vote back home. Her brother Victor, 18, is “even more happy than I was to move to Paris.” She called him a “classic teenager … having fun.”

Her activism probably wouldn’t go over as well in other parts of conservative rural Texas. But Marfa and Presidio County tend to be a world of their own—very oriented toward the arts and politically, as she said, “one blue county in a whole pool of red.”

Culbertson “grew up in this town. Everybody looks out for each other here,” said Lisa Kettyle, a founding member of the Big Bend Reproductive Coalition. Culbertson said the coalition has helped her plan her local protest events. 

Natasha Acevedo, an outreach manager with Deeds Not Words, said Culbertson contacted the nonprofit last spring via Instagram. She shared her idea of a series of events around the state supporting reproductive freedom. The Roe v. Wade decision had “really made her feel heartbroken,” Acevedo said. Culbertson was one of the youngest activists they’d ever worked with, she’d reached out to them only about six weeks before the first event, and “she lived in a whole other country,” Acevedo said. But Culbertson “wanted some mentorship, and that’s what we do.” So the nonprofit agreed to help.

Deeds Not Words, which has been around about five years, has chapters on a handful of college campuses and is looking to add more. Acevedo said the group’s goal is to empower young people to deal with problems of gender inequality and to think about what a society built on equity would look like. “A lot of young people are very passionate about wanting things to change” but don’t know how to get started, Acevedo said. The nonprofit teaches them about building a community of like-minded people and starting with smaller concepts.

Acevedo helped Culbertson find the people she needed in each city, showed her how to create a pitch for her ideas, and met with her weekly to check on her progress. The 15-year-old was tenacious, passionate, and intelligent in how she dealt with people.

“She ended up having all the events she wanted,” Acevedo said, even though turnout was small for some. It shows that “no matter how young you are, you can make a difference.”

Culbertson said her aim is to “continue to grow awareness” about the repercussions of Texas’ severe abortion laws. A year after Roe v. Wade was overturned, she told the Big Bend Sentinel, “It’s still important to keep on marching … because this hasn’t gone away yet. And I’m not going to stop until it does go away.” 

Texas needs an Observer! Become a member to get our magazine, six times per year!

[lacepockets]

That Time I Helped A Book Get Published

I've been what you would classify as "an artist" for pretty much my entire life. Or, at least, as long as I could hold a pencil. As soon as I even vaguely figured out how to make a picture transfer from my brain onto paper (or whatever surface, including the walls, and woe betide anyone who tries to clean that away), I completely unloaded on the world.

Not much of my art survived until now, but here's a few from I think around when I was 8 or 9 years old. Forever stuck in the 3/4 angle facing viewer left.

That said, I was never much of a fanartist; I've always preferred to create original characters, either that exist in series I was a fan of (which I GUESS is a type of fanart? but not really what people think of when they say fanart) or I would make up entire worlds and populate them. I would make up stories to go with this too, and often made either comics or pseudo-books out of them which I just stapled together. Some things never change, really.

I would even LARP my stories all by myself (I was every character), complete with costumes and background music that was usually comprised of the soundtracks of Disney movies, video games, and later anime, which I would blast from my awesome 1990s audio player.

(I also had a Discman eventually but I have more memories of this thing)

When I learned how to, I would even make like mixtapes from the songs I used to make up my story's soundtrack. I would pretend(?) that these stories were "real" as in they were actual cartoons or whatever that I was a fan of. I didn't have any friends so it's not like I shared these things with anyone, but that didn't really stop me. I simply talked to myself about them and wrote my own critic reviews and "episode summaries".

I really do not know how I was not screened for autism when I was a child, but whatever, I'm here now.

Drawing and making up stories and such took up pretty much all of my time that wasn't already taken up by video games or books.

I was even drawing in class. To be honest I was a terrible student — I never really paid attention to anything unless it happened to be about something I was already hyperinterested in, and I subsequently did not give a flying hoot about grades. Instead of doing classwork or, yknow, listening to my teachers, I would be drawing. Some teachers caught on to the fact that I was drawing, and for those classes I switched to pretending to be taking notes or doing work but I was actually writing about my OCs.

Anyway, all this is to say, one of my teachers really liked my drawings, even though they weren't really any better than typical child doodles in my opinion.

I don't fully remember what grade this was, maybe 2nd or 3rd? This teacher was supportive of my drawings even though it was technically disruptive of my learning. She'd ask to see what I was drawing and would talk to me about it, though I wasn't ever really keen on talking about it with her, and sometimes she asked me to draw something for her. She really liked Mickey Mouse so it was usually him.

One day this teacher told me she was writing a children's book, but she needed an artist to illustrate it. So she asked me if I wanted to be the illustrator for her book. I said yes, and she and I worked together on the book for I think a couple months? I can't fully say what the book was about, all I remember is that it was about a little girl with freakishly big pigtails. I don't even remember the title, I wish I could.

The book was eventually published.

It's really funny to think that there's a book out there that my 2nd or 3rd grade teacher wrote and little baby me illustrated, and I just have zero memory of what it is. I sometimes wonder how many people have read the book or bought it for their kids or something and I am just completely ignorant of it.

[captinbenny]

Time to be controversial:

So I'm in school right now at an internationally recognized, accredited college. I'm taking an intro class to computer programming and an introduction to Python. The only requisites for this class were that you needed to know how to turn on a computer.

1st day of class, we're told that instead of us spending over $100 on a textbook, we were instead supposed to choose an AI search engine, put prompts from the teacher provided PowerPoints, and build our own textbook as the class goes along.

Needless to say, the class was stunned with silence.

He proceeded to tell us that we were his guinea pig class to test this out and he expected us all to get 100% A's because everything we were graded on (HW, quizzes, exams, everything) was open note, open book, open internet.

Now I've been following the discussion and capabilities on AI for a while in several different industries that it has been effecting. (Art, code, hiring/HR, professional writing) and every single one of them has said that AI is not reliable and is quickly approaching the status of shitification. Like a snake eating it's tail, it is slowly corrupting its own data by feeding itself it's own incorrect data.

Coming from a fine art background with 2 degrees in it already, I had never used AI before. I finally used chatgpt because of this programming class, and what I found was surprising. The way it answers questions was very straight forward and reminded me a lot of how the Internet worked in the late 90s/early 2000s. The prompts need to be very specific and they're good for getting the ball rolling on understanding base line information. Really, it's a great tool for preliminary research, and then seeking out other websites to deep dive further into actual articles and research papers. It is NOT good or shouldn't be used for finished end products (essays, papers, ART, creative works.) it's also trash at math ATM.

Still, my experience with it in the field of learning python coding to help understanding what certain functions do/are, and in my business class for gathering information on infrastructure in an area half way across the world for a potential Olympics there, has been extremely helpful.

In the past I would get frustrated with swimming through the trash heap of AD and Sponsored articles on Google search to get a simple question answered. I used to turn to reddit for answers because Google got so terrible with it. But reddit was more opinion and first hand experience based. Great for insight into an industry from a people perspective but not great in answering the question: what does the "f" do in python's print(f"..")

Chatgpt was great for that.

I still think AI is good and bad for the art/creative industries. If used ethically (paying the artists and getting their permission) in gathering it's data sets. It could be a very helpful tool in selecting color palates, workshoping compositions, and generating a written idea prompt to get a piece started. It should not/never be used for finished final products.

But that's just my 2 cents.

“i asked chatgpt-” ohhh ok so nothing you are about to say matters at all

[redemption-lies-plainly-in-truth]

Greetings Ms Sol. How are you? Have you been eating and drinking okay? Sleeping well?

Sorry for the long wait between replies. Have been thinking of what to share, how to type it and such. Been trying to write this, but I end up deleting the content a lot. Worried about grammar, if I'm writing interesting topics or addressing you properly.

Let's see, I saw that you typed something on your account and I thank you for your kind words. As I said, I'm sorry for the delay with this response. Some things have come up this month, but I still have been thinking of how to respond to the last message.

I'm happy you've been enjoying your time with, I Wanni Hug that Gator. It was a fun game. I can not tell you how many times I rewinded certain parts. The player character being pulled into the pool. Asking the characters parents if they'd be okay with synthetic meat, Olivia smiling at us when we do something funny, or her tail smacking the ground when she realizes we’re in the same history class, the expressions our character makes when getting made. The way his eyes bulged out. My favorite is when the art teacher needed them to move stuff in the lab and no one told him there was a dolly. Poor Inky.

As for the writing, yeah I can understand trying to use big words and seeing simple words as…lesser? The way the school tried teaching me in language arts class was confusing with that. Try using bigger more complex words to convey meaning, but don't try to make it too wordy or dense. Viewing words that could very easily explain the situation but substituting for words that sound smart without considering the character. Giving said character a large vocabulary even though the story would say otherwise, based on background and what's happening to them.

I really used to hate reading, but ended up reading more than I thought, though the way the words come out of my mouth and how slow I read would make you believe otherwise. Ended up reading manga, comics, fan fiction, cards, video game manuals and so forth. Found a few books that actually interested me and often reread portions I enjoyed. Though I may have bought more books than I can consume in a given time…good lord these things take up space and aren't cheap.

I won't deny that writing and other forms of art aren't looked up as well as painting, drawing or sculpting. Hell we had a writers strike because they were undervalued and artists here in the States aren't being treated much better. A lot of animation studios have also gone under. The game did help me understand that when art can convey different meanings or responses from the same moment. I'm trying not to spoil too much of the game, but I am unsure how far you may have moved from the last spot from your response. The character does take a bit more pictures and they do help me think. The idea of what they saw or what we were shown, being viewed in a different point. The different types of styles a camera could use to capture the moment and how other mediums could try to build off of the image or relay how others felt at that moment as well or their interpretation. Someone sharing what they see through the means they feel comfortable and how their experiences may shape it.

As for your stories, they've been interesting. In a good way. The ones I've been able to read I've had fun. Learning your perspective and interpretation of those characters. You've mentioned how you have different levels of effort placed on some of them depending on if it's something you personally wish to write or if it's a request. I think people do enjoy your work, it's just a lot of us get tunnel visioned when able to make a request and looking for it.

Additionally I would like to apologize. You brought up having multiple anonymous contacts and it turning out to be a single individual. I am guilty of this to an extent. Mostly just the game recommendations and the fallout radio thing, but I've also made a request on your Baldur's Gate 3 blog relating to massages.I wasn't trying to lie, but was more of the idea of sharing some ideas or building up a conversation and may have gotten overzealous. The games being Pillars of Eternity, Halo, Fallout, Wasteland and a few more. You recommended Bugsnax to me I believe. Just wanted to clear the air as needed.

Also, you're fine with the straight white male target audience thing. Each game has an audience in one form or another.

The idea of the X reader was interesting. Taking what you know of the character or learning of them for the first time as you try to experience things with them. Then the individuals writing style taking information and shaping them. Sometimes adding their own spin or taking think from where the characts originates. Like game mechanics affecting your interactions with them.

Yours were fun to read. Learning a bit about the characters and your perspective about them. How they'd react to our interactions and the idea of them opening up to you. Being in that world, carrying your own knowledge. Being born in that world or just being inserted at some point. Expressing interest and actually building a conversation based on the events in the game or story but outside as well. Taking in the sights, smells, touch and taste of the surroundings. Or at least hopefully the idea is what I typed.

Also the idea of freezing time to have some measure of control is a neat idea. Trying to change the course of events that all ultimately lead to the same route you're desperately trying to avoid. Settling on freezing time indefinitely trapping yourself or allowing the course of events to continue as intended. I believe it is something that is touched upon in a few things. Though I think the ones I'm thinking of are less about them having control to stop an event and it just happening. Or trying to rewrite events that happened that affected your life and trying to change them to better suit yourself. It's an interesting idea and I'm happy you felt comfortable enough to share it with me. So thank you.

As for the response being short, don't worry about it. Take your time and do what you need to do. We each have things to worry about and things that pull our attention. These have been fun, no matter how large it small.

I hope for things to get better for you and for things to go your way when needed. Thank you for taking the time to talk, make a blog and continue as we can. This year has had a lot of downs and we're only two thirds through it, but finding you blogs have been a major plus.

As always, Eat well, drink well, sleep well and so much more. Have a good day, Ms Sol.

The first time I wrote a reply to this, Tumblr swallowed it whole. Lesson learned, I need to draft my long posts in the notes app beforehand.

But it's a good thing that I get to re-write it; the first time around was a bit depressing. Now that I've eaten, went on a walk, and took a nap, I feel much better and optimistic about life.

I even feel brave enough to admit that I've missed you greatly, you might not think much of our correspondence, or maybe that you assume I don't consider you amidst my daily life, but I do. You've become a part of it. Whether we talk once a month or week, I do look forward to it. And I'm still grateful for both your time and kindness, I will never take it for granted, just like I'm grateful for you sharing your existence with me.

I have been better lately. Mentally I have my ups and downs, depression is something you learn to live with, I still get my bpd spirals but I'm very good at dealing with them, finding solace in the despair and comfort. It's the reassurance that I will feel better eventually that keeps me going, that no feeling is forever. No matter how much like the end a situation feels, there is always more life waiting the next day.

Plus, since I see my niece daily, I can't begin to comprehend putting her through something as grim as the suicide of a family member. The more time passes, the more she begins to remember it, remember me. She started her first day of kindergarten yesterday! Time flies.

She must be an extrovert because she adored it, would always leave excitedly, and come back happy. I remember hating kindergarten, I would constantly cry for my mom, refuse to play with the other kids, and never interact with the teachers. I liked sitting on the swings, however. She's much braver than me, that's for sure.

By the way, I actually have many nieces, 3 so far and one nephew. Any times I say "niece" there is a random chance I'm talking about any of them, one is almost elementary age, the other in kindergarten and the last is still an infant, we're waiting for her first step still.

My nephew is...I don't see much of him. He had a serious heart condition since birth, his heart wasn't fully developed, and he went into intensive care as a newborn. It was a terrifying month. My parents would go to the hospital each day and sit beside his bed. I don't believe in god, I haven't met my nephew yet either, but I kept praying that he makes it out alive, offered to trade my soul for him, I'd rather it be me dying than this infant who haven't even glimpsed the world yet. He deserved to live more than I do.

Thankfully, neither of us died, and he got better to leave the hospital eventually.

I don't think I'm ever having kids. They're a big responsibility. They change you beyond recognition. Your existence as a person comes to a halt, and you become a parent instead, no time for your hobbies, interests, or any personal days. I've seen my brothers lose their traits slowly, seen the passion and excitement fizzle out from the eyes of their wives who used to love going out, fashion and always taking the extra step to make something appear neat. It's heartbreaking almost. It's never the kids' fault either. It's just extremely taxing to raise an entire new person who is endlessly curious and controlled by their own whims. Children deserve a happy childhood, endless patience, and love, but you can't give them that without sacrificing your personhood. It's like you have to destroy your own self to create a new person. It's unfair to both parties. You can't stop at one kid either, or they'll be lonely. You need to go through this again to get them a sibling.

Losing my freedom and being tied to one responsibility, be it a person or else, is my absolute hellish nightmare.

-

You don't have to worry about grammer; I don't. I write however I write, and whatever comes out comes. I'd never judge you for it.

Your topics aren't interesting to me just because they're inherently interesting, your topics are interesting to me because it's you telling them. You could talk to me about the stages of paint drying on a wall, and I'd listen attentively... or read it more accurately.

As for addressing me properly, I've noticed you started using feminine terms more often. I'm not a woman, I'm not a man either. I'm non-binary. I don't mind feminine terms, I go by all pronouns after all, including she/her. I just don't like being perceived as only a woman or only a man.

I'd greatly appreciate it if you mix up the masc/fem terms every now and then, I get enough woman treatment irl where I can't be my authentic self and have to stay silent in the face of misgendering for my own safety.

What you're doing isn't wrong. It just leaves a sour taste in my mouth. It makes me fear that you, too, only see me as a woman, so this request is simply for the peace of my mind.

-

Let's see, I saw that you typed something on your account and I thank you for your kind words. As I said, I'm sorry for the delay with this response. Some things have come up this month, but I still have been thinking of how to respond to the last message.

You don't have to apologise, but you did. Thank you so much. Even if it was just out of politeness, you still apologised when it wasn't your fault. It made me feel better. I thought you were gone, that this was over, and I feared that I became boring, dull, and not responsive enough.

I'm sorry I rushed you, I only wanted to try again just in case this was a mishap of fate. I didn't want a small error in a terribly coded website to be the thing that ends one of the few friendly correspondence I have left on this earth. I wanted to make sure... and maybe say goodbye properly if it was really over.

Even if I came off as desperate, so be it.

What good has pride ever done to me except make me lose friends for not giving them a second chance?

And I'm sorry to hear about the busy month you went through, I hope it's long gone and over by now, whatever it was that bothered you. I hope it got happily solved, that you're safe and sound. I hope you're well-fed, that your family is healthy. This is less of wishing and more of a prayer, to what power I don't know. But I still hope.

I don't know you, and you know too much for comfort about me, I still wish you a lifetime of happiness.

-

The player character being pulled into the pool. Asking the characters parents if they'd be okay with synthetic meat, Olivia smiling at us when we do something funny. or her tail amacking the ground when she realizes we're in the same history class, the expressions our character makes when getting made. The way his eyes bulged out. My favorite is when the art teacher needed them to move stuff in the lab and no one told him there was a dolly. Poor Inky.

A lot of these scenes are my favourite scenes, too! the pool one was absolutely amazing, especially with how much it shows that Olivia started to trust Inky and feel comfortable around him. I was far too happy to watch my little guy get tipped into a pool like a scared cat. Character development, I tell you.

My absolute favourite was the reveal that Mr. Ferris is Liz' uncle/relative. Oh my god, especially when he shows up sporting the latest fashion, thanks to Inky's advice. I enjoyed his talks each morning on the bus, too. I used to be close to one of my teachers, and we'd have similar conversations.

I don't know the doll scene, actually. Either I forgot it or never encountered it. The last place I left off was at the exact scene of the whole friendgroup at the arcade, right after the art competition, where Olivia is starting round 2 in that retro fighting game against that one obnoxious guy who won against the others.

I'm a little curious about the endings, what makes one so much worse rhan the other? Wasn't the main issue evaded? What else could go wrong??? Does something MORE happens????????

Goddamn the writers must have sold their soul to the devil or something. How am I so invested, oh my god. This is a phenomenal story.

And I'll never look up spoilers because I want this curiosity to grow and gnaw at the back of my mind until I eventually give up and go continue playing the game. I hope you don't spoiler anything for me.

-

The current education system as a whole is 70% based on memorisation alone rather than understanding, resulting in teachers that don't fully comprehend the material they're teaching, only repeating what they have learnt. And students who don't dare ask why, only which parts are going to be in the test and how much grade worth they are.

Most current teachers can tell you "what" something is, but not "why" it is. They can recite the rules of writing perfectly to you, but won't be able to intricately explain why they are set in place. What is their purpose? Okay, but why is that a worthy purpose to pursue? What makes it worthy? How isn't that subjective? Why is some literature held in higher regard than others? Who decides which books are taught in the curriculum? Okay, why those people? How are we sure they aren't biased? Who even decided these works are great? And why are they great? Just because it became popular with a lot of people? What if I personally read it and it never appealed to me? Why are your subjective views considered the standards and mine considered wrong for not adhering to the standards you made up?

I want to understand, I want to truly understand.

But they saw it as me being an annoying little shit, and I don't blame them. Teachers are overworked, understaffed and underpaid. If they spend the whole lesson explaining to one kid all these things, they'll get behind on schedule, behind on the mandatory curriculum they must teach as issued by the government, behind on the rest of the class who will sit there awkwardly listening to answers to questions they never asked or cared about.

Not to mention how exhausting it must be having to answer the same "why" question time after time with as a new year rolls in and a new class is assigned to them. those questions aren't unique or clever, some of them are argumentative.

But that's what they were supposed to do, wasn't it? To teach. To explain why. Teachers in the olden times only took one or two students for life and indulged their curiosity. Now, it's a class of at least 40 kids. Even if a gem was hidden within them that needed some polishing to shine, a sprouting talent, the teacher simply can't afford the time. To forsake those 39 other students and pay attention to this one.

To me, when it came to math, my dad answered all of those "why" questions. He was a lead engineer. So I adored math, still love it because I was offered the opportunity to understand it. To come back home and why we use these equations, why are things in the order that they are.

When it came to other subjects, however? Not so much. I used to hate writing, can you imagine? Every single written essay about making a short story I have cheated on. I made my dad write it for me, and I didn't even read it before handing it in. It was always my weakest subject and the reason behind my lowest grades.

I viewed it as a waste of time. Writing was a demeaning form of art to little me. Math is more important and serious. Why should my grades get dragged down by something as stupid and meaningless as art? Why do I have to memorise those poems? I don't care about them, I can solve advanced equations!

But then...one time my dad was on a work trip and I had to write my own short story to hand in. I thought about looking one online but got bored reading the empty words, so I just decided to make stuff up and come up with a small concept on the spot.

I wrote a short 500-word story about a kid feeling scared moving into a new school, hiding between classes, wanting to go home. I wrote about how they stumbled upon the school garden and were surprised to find the flowers in full bloom. I wrote about the kind elderly gardener that they met, the flower he offered them, the words of wisdom he gave. Their brave little heart moved by it, keeping their flower tucked in their hair as they went into their next class with determination to face the unkown.

I fully expected to fail the assignment because of this seemingly corny gibberish I had written. After all, if my father, who is a successful genius, couldn't come up with a story impressive enough for my teacher, then what hope did elementary kid me have? Plus, my handwriting was chicken scratches at best. That story was full of misspellings.

So I handed it, and the next day, I received the graded paper only to see a full one hundred mark.

A full grade.

I have never ever gotten a full grade in this class in my life before, I accepted that it will be the only class where I threw in the towel long ago.

I was stunned, my story, my own writing—but my father wrote poetry, my father is an adult, how could this possibly be better.

It should've been a sign, I should've understood the lesson, I should've taken the hint, or even be encouraged a little bit to pursue this more.

But it was brushed to the side, I proudly showed my story to my family, the full mark, no one really cared. Writing is just making up words. It's not a science, it's nothing special.

It didn't make my dad proud. So I stopped. I went back to studying maths and English. He came back from the trip and started doing my creative writing essays again, my grades dropped.

Years went by, I discovered fanfics, I loved it, I discovered I was gay, and the world didn't love it. My world, at least, all the gay ships fanfic were in English, which I did not speak. So I studied it by myself through google Translate to read my gay fics.

I started my very own first fic and decided to make it arabic bc why do only the westerns get good thing? fuck em they are harding all the gay fics to themselves! My people deserve some too and I will make them! This could never go wrong! Woo!

Yeah. You can imagine what the reactions I received online were. There is a reason I went back to writing fics in English.

As for reading, I used to read the story columns in comic books and magazines. You know, those pages with a solid background colour, a doodle or two, and a wall of text telling a very short written story. Usually used as seperator pages between the comic book chapters, placed next to the advertisements of kid's toys.

Those were my bread and butter. I usually skipped them like any other kid. If there isn't shiny colourful art, then I am NOT interested. I'm here to look at cartoon pictures dummy, not read ew gross.

But I accidentally glimpsed an interesting line while flipping through one and...was hooked. Damn, I need to go back and read the gross wall of text now. And I did, and it was fun, and I started searching for them. Rereading my old comic books especially just to find to text wall pages, god every story was so unique and the style immensely varied! Wait, so they host stories from amateur writers?? and it's a different author each time? holy moly.

Because after a while, comic books become very predictable. I could see the plot point from a mile away, even while still a kid and the target audience, I was very very bored from seeing the same story in different fonts.

The text walls offered variety, a breath of fresh air.

But I wouldn't like to spend my limited allowance on a book with only words and no pictures, haha...or would I?

First year of middle-school, I have my first ever copy of a printed book! All words, no pictures, one of Agatha Christy murder mysteries!

Took it with me to school, read it in-between classes, It was like a whole new world. I was fully immersed, could imagine the scenes playing out in my brain vividly, each new page held a new word I've never heard of before, I'd go ask my arabic teacher about its meaning later on.

Acquiring more books as the months went, mostly murder mysterious, some arabic classical literature because I was still writing the arabic fanfic, and the time and wanted to strengthen my vocabulary.

Despite it, I was never a book neat freak. I didn't care for the smudges or creases. The stains and dirty corners meant very little to me. I would always lend the novels to my friends and othef classmates...I was in an uh "elite" school, exclusive to "smart" kids, if your grades every dropped below A- (90%) they'd kick you out fr. So no one ever picked on me for the books. In fact, they really wanted to try reading one as well, and I happily lent them!

But yeah, you could've given me the book back torn in half and I wouldn't have batted an eye.

Because to me, the book wasn't the story. No, the story is in me, it lives in my mind, I've fully read it and learned everything there is to learn about it. The story was never the words on the paper, those are just printed symbols of ink on thin fiber rectangles made from processed wood. The words, the sentence, the grammer, the whole book is just a tool, a brush on a canvas, the story flowed through it, from the pages into your eyes, it touched your heart, intertwined your soul, made a home for itself within your brain for eternity, to shape your mind.

I'm sure the fact I could still retell you the story from that book with exact same enthusiasm and astonishment I experienced the first time I've read it, would mean much more to the author than the fact I let a friend use their book as a coffee mug coaster than one time.

Every book, every story you've ever read, has become a part of you already.

Writing is unbelievably broad. It's s not only shaped as text on a page, but a story can take many forms. Especially in the mundane everyday life.

Just because it happens in your mind doesn't mean it doesn't happen. Just because it wasn't solidified through text doesn't mean it wasn't birthed into existence out of thin air by your neurons and creativity.

A book is a mere physical vessle; the writing was never the words, you won't find a story in a jar of ink or at the sharp tip of a feather.

But you will find a story at the tips of your ink smuged fingers, you will find it pouring from your lips as you described a past memory with a friend, you're writing, aware of it or not. you will hear it in your mother's voice when she calls you to tell you the plot of a show she started watching, that's writing. You will find it in digital texts between you and an old friend.

You will find it in correspondence between two strangers because this, too, is writing.

And I hear you, I see what you're convoying, I enjoy your style. You write so beautifully. Any mishaps in the grammer, misspelling, or other is glossed over. You don't judge a painting by the splinters on the wooden brush it was drawn with.

You don't judge a book by its cover, or grammer, or misspellings, or limited vocabulary. Because those things are easy to fix, are learnable skills, polish atop a dry painting. Much like you can buy a brand-new pristine brush, you can memorise all the idoms and prose to your heart's content, hire the best editors, and spell checking apps.

But if your story is boring, then it's boring. A child with a limited grasp on the language is as capable of telling a story as a full-grown adult. All those extra things can only take you so far. You can dress up a garbage can as much as you want, but by the end of the day, it's still a garbage can. A polished vividly-worded intricate shit story is still a shit story.

It's why I never take those angry video essays from readers trashtaking youn adult novels seriously. They're the cinema sins to the writer community. Yeah the plot is corny and bdsm fetishes are sprinkled in there, yeah the characters are very romanticised, yeah they are soulmates in first glance—I'm sorry just what is the point you're trying to make here exactly? it's the goddamn young adults genre. All those things are fundamental parts of the genre.

It's subjective! Oh my god. If it doesn't meet your preference, then why the fuck are you reading it. Did you deliberately pick a genre with a set clear message and intentions then got disappointed your imaginary standards weren't met? Why are you buying clothes at the soup store?

I don't like those books either, so I don't read them. Like jeez, just close the book, buddy. It's not that serious. No, it's not bad writing. It just doesn't meet your falsely placed expectations. These corny messy stories are exactly what the author intended them to be, they convey the original message of a romanticised porn heavy world perfectly, it's a goddamn indulgence genre, there is a market for it. No, it being erotica or fetishy doesn't demean it as a form of art in any way, no you don't get to claim that just because it has an audience of lonely housewives then that makes not "real writing" You're just rebranding misogyny and disguising it as writing criticism you biased twat.

You can't box creativity. You can't demean erotica or fetishes. You can't treat your preferences as the holy grail.

You'll only ever judge art correctly when you let go of the expectations you set upon it and try to view it from the author's perspective. What were they trying to achieve? What was the story they were convoying? Did they succeed in meeting their own expectations? Was this a serious piece or did they just want to have fun and let go? Or was the rent due?

Try to understand it, and if you don't, then it's not for you. There is no hidden meaning, no bigger picture, your taste is not the golden standards, it doesn't saying anything about a work of fiction that failed to catch your interest, because it certainly succeeded with others who understood its message.

Anyway, I'd love some recommendations, tell me about the books that made you fall in love with reading. Don't just give me names, but tell me about them, I want to view them through your eyes.

For me, I really hope you'll like "All tomorrows" and "I have no mouth and I must scream." They're both dear books to my heart. They shaped some of my writings. Both of them are free online, "All tomorrows" is only available through digital copies, the other book is available in print, But I prefer the free audiobook version read by the author himself, Harlan Ellison! It's on YouTube. You really get a feel for those characters, god, the way he convayed them. I could only aspire to ever write like him one day.

-

Don't apologise for the multiple asks anonymous thing, it doesn't apply to you. What you did was different, that person deliberately pretended to be multiple people, used different styles and personas.

I feel like a fool afterwards, the whole monologue that followed about how I thought people liked my writing, the shameful feelings I confided in you. I really thought it was going to be different, that someone cared about what I had to say instead of just getting what they wanted from me and leaving.

I feel stupid for thinking things would magically change, that people would magically change. My art is only appealing to them as long as it remains useful to them. They don't respect me or see me as a person, they couldn't care less about my craft, they just want to greedly mindlessly consume, talking to me like I'm a writing bot, never taking into account what would make me uncomfortable, not even extended the courtesy of basic decency and politeness.

So no. What you did was different. And I knew it was you, on some of them at least. You have a distinct style, it's hard to pick up upon but I noticed it.

-

Also, you're fine with the straight whito male target audience thing. Each game has ar audience in one form or another.

Thanks, I just hope no one boobily breasts down the stairs or kyaa their way into pulling my pants down. These men really should start investing in a good belt. Plus, I play otome games with 6 feet tall men with monster hog thundercocks and sensitive hopelessly romantic hearts, so I am a massive hypocrite.

I came into this game with the wrong perspective and impression. Inco has been more relatable for me as a protagonist than 90% of novel dating sim games I've played. Some lessons you must relearn, I shouldn't have judged the game by its first impression.

-

As for what you wrote about the X Reader genre, I'm glad that we share a similar mindset! You understand its appeal to me, and you can see my vision. I absolutely adore it for that reason, the blank page I got to paint, the world I get to expand upon.

It works especially well with games with a player protagonist, taking it from the video game medium to written fanfics results in the X Reader genre.  What I'm saying is, a lot of people already consume X Reader stuff in other art mediums without realising it. It's just unlabelled.

I like being involved in the story, I like you being involved. I want to bring the world to life with you in it, you the reader, I want you to be addressed and to feel incuded in the story.

-

I enjoy video game mechanics being used to tell a story as well, especially when it's by accident.

Take Pathologic for example, I found a wedding ring in a trash can Immediately after exiting the house of a potential love interest, a woman so full of life and love for it, a sweet sensitive soul who yearns for true love, devotion and fairytale romance, who has shown interest in the protagonist despite just meeting him.

And the protagonist himself, Dr. Daniil Dankovsky, a self-proclaimed enemy of death. The doctor knight who took an oath to cure death, all death. Who has given up his personal time, hobbies, friends, and everything for the cause, who has devoted his whole life to his research and study. A most logical and cynical man, " there is only one truth" kind of person, who qoutes latin randomly as if it's normal, to be be met with love at first sight immediately after setting a foot in this town, much like a brick to the face.

And of course, the rarest item in the entire loot table spawns the first time I dig through a trashcan after starting his run, of course I stare at this golden ring in grim realisation, aware of it's symbolic meaning. The love life Daniil his thrown away, isolated himself into a clinical cold lab, only to dig through the trashcan and end up picking it up again immediately after being struck by cupid's bow out of the blow.

Gold rings are immensely valuable, and the first day of any run in Pathologic can make or break your run. Selling it would've saved me so many headaches...but I kept it, because it told a beautiful story. I stashed the ring in a save table next to his bed, I see it whenever I empty my inventory.

Their love is doomed, they won't get a happy end, not because of a fault or a fight of either of them. Instead, it ends quietly, Eva commits suicide, jumps off the cathedral as the final act of her life, to grant the building her soul, to feel useful for accomplishing something at last.

Daniil never gets to say goodbye.

Another example of game mechanics telling a story, is Mass Effect 3!

Thane's deathbed scene, especially, I talked about this in a different post. My Shepard ended up attending his death in a short red dress, clearly meant for a party or something. Very inappropriate for the occasion and immensely jarring in pictures

I was midway through the game, completely exhausted from fighting the stupid war in the middle of fuck off space, every mission was more depressing than the last and I just needed a break. Maybe go back and see Thane? I know he wouldn't have anything new to say but that's alright, I'm just going to exhaust his dialogue tree again, sit next to him for a while, then go back to playing the hero.

So I put Shepard in a romantic short red dress, pretending this is a special occasion and she's getting ready for a date with Thane. You know, make things a little more interesting, change the military professional attire I've kept her in all this time for immersion to something cute and nice.

And I don't know if you're aware, but in Thane ME3 romance, you're only allowed one kiss. That prompt you use to smooch your romantic partner that you can spam while talking to them? Yeah, with Thane it only works one time, afterwards he tells you that he's feeling too drained out, the sickness taking a toll on him, he's sorry he can't offer you more than a single kiss. Maybe when he rests up, he'll be up for another later, but now it's still too soon.

So, I understood that as the game telling me to go take a hike, and I did. After each important mission, I'd quickly go check up on Thane to see if we can smooch again. It never happened :(

But this time, oh, this time, I decided it's going to be different, or at least I'd pretend it is by making up a date.

Well, you can imagine how well that grand plan was executed when I came into the Citadel getting attacked. I couldn't even step a single foot inside before the mission started itself.

It's my first time playing so I thought, okay fuck fine, I'll do this quickly then go see Thane. So Shepard got stuffed into the armour with her dress still on, Ignored enemies and just gunned it from one check point to another unless killing them was absolutely necessary to progress.

And then, That Thane scene came. And he got stabbed by emo boy. For a fleeting second, I held the hate of the entire fandom for Kai Leng in my heart.

I thought he was going to die, I paused the game, went to look it up online because no fucking way he'll bleed to death in the middle of the Citadel. Why can't we carry him to safety exactly?? Fuck the councillor idk, I saved their asses in ME1, I want to cash in that card to get out of saving this now too, let em die, we still have the replacement council in the box, minty fresh condition and all.

Thankfully, I found an answer that reassured me that Thane wouldn't die....now. Yeah, his death scene was spoiled for me, but that's fine, that's okay.

I got through the mission, Kaidan near betrayal with Udina just rubbed salt into the wound, confirmed to me that he is an ungrateful piece of shit and Thane is clearly the superior man and better romantic choice because he would've never pulled this shit on Shepard. He would've cut off his own hand before pointing a gun at us.

So the mission is over, I couldn't give less of a shit about anyone else or progressing. I immediately booked it to the hospital, and I wasn't even aware that Thane sent you an email on the terminal to ask you to visit. I didn't read it, I was already on my way there.

Scene plays out, and I realise how much Shepard sticks out like a sore thumb because of the red dress. So I reload, go to the Normandy, change into something appropriate, go back to the hospital and—

Thane's dead.

He had already passed away. The second you board the Normandy, the game triggers his death, with or without you in the room. Even at his final moments, you couldn't be there for him.

I reload an earlier save file.

I go to the hospital, I enter his room, and I let the scene play out.

This dress was meant to be for their date. It was meant for a joyous occasion, a celebration of their love.

This is the dress of someone who thought they had more time, of someone who couldn't possibly predict watching the same loved one they dress up for today, pass away in front of their eyes before he could even get a proper look at them.

Even this, a pretend imaginary date, was taken from me. And now this dress will always be marked with the memory of his funeral. It will always be the last thing he saw Shepard in before the sea swept him away.

I kept it in the closet, I couldn't use it for a long while despite how pretty it is. Sometimes, I made Shepard wear it when I missed him.

And I never got my promised second kiss.

-

This was a delight to write, I'm glad you're still here. Really, the kindness you've shown me, I won't take it for granted ever. I'm immensely grateful for it.

I hope your day is going well, I received your second ask, I did find a new game that I can't wait to tell you about! I'll talk about it there since this letter is already loaded as it is.

I hope your day is wonderful <3

[douchebagbrainwaves]

HOW TO LOSE TIME AND SPEAKING

It takes a conscious effort to remind oneself that the real world doesn't work that way. Don't ignore your dreams; don't work too much; say what you think; cultivate friendships; be happy. To kids, wealth is a fixed pie that's shared out, and if one person gets more it's at the expense of another. Editors. When I notice something surprising, it's usually very faint at first. But there is also huge source of implicit tags that they ignore: the text within web links. Errors of omission are a particularly dangerous type of mistake, because you couldn't reproduce it in most of the US.

Silicon Valley don't seem to be taking their time. That doesn't sound right either. All a city needs is to be the kind of effervescent feel that attracts the young. Till recently I thought it didn't, but the Internet got me because it became addictive while I was using it. Day about half the startups were doing something significantly different than they started with. Interestingly, while Kate said that she could never pick out successful founders, she could recognize VCs, both by the way they dressed and the way they did. Perhaps, if design and research converge, the best research is also good design, and in those detecting bias is straightforward. In 1958 these ideas were anything but obvious. The same is true in the arts could tell you, the way to succeed was to launch something fast, listen to users, and then iterate; that startups required resilience because they were built one building at a time. Is there some way to beat this limitation? Paradoxically, one of the reasons I disliked the term Web 2. Those three used the English language like they owned it.

Poverty and economic inequality are not identical. Google set off the tagging movement. Historically the closest analogy to what he does are the great Renaissance patrons of the arts, and particularly in oil painting. And to reproduce that you need time to grow a silicon valley; you let one grow. The other thing that made him different was that he liked us. That has two important implications. You have to calibrate your ideas on actual users constantly, especially in the beginning. I think the goal of an essay should be to discover surprising things. If it were a conscious trick, he would have slipped in a moment of excitement. A lot of people. Even people sophisticated enough to know about the pie fallacy: that the rich get rich by creating wealth, that would not only not eliminate great variations in wealth would mean eliminating startups. Which means applicants of type x have to be new, but it happens surprisingly rarely.

There's a physical analog in the Intel and Microsoft stickers that come on some laptops. Few startups happen in Miami, for example, the idea was discovered during the Renaissance, journeymen from northern Europe were often employed to do the landscapes in the backgrounds of Italian paintings. Bureaucrats by their nature are the exact opposite sort of people from startup investors. In software, my rule is: always have working code. And technology for targeting ads continues to improve. But it's not. That idea is almost as old as the web. The top US Computer Science departments are said to be MIT, Stanford, Berkeley, and Carnegie-Mellon? It's populated by people who talk a lot with one another as they work slowly but harmoniously on conservative, expensive projects whose destinations are decided in advance, and who carefully adjust their manner to reflect their position in the hierarchy. In retrospect, he was out of place as an elementary school teacher, and I suspect the human brain is just as lumpy and idiosyncratic as the human body. They just wanted to make the point that the web mattered again. Those companies were apparently willing to establish subsidiaries wherever the experts wanted to live.

But in retrospect, something was happening: the web was finding its natural angle of repose. His most impressive work, to me, is his drawings. Extraordinary devotion went into it, and focus our efforts where they'll do the most good. I say pick b. It was a killing machine. It's so easy to slip from talking about income shifting from one quantile to another, as a source of economic inequality, it would not. What would it look like? And while some of the growth in economic inequality, it would be good to be precise about what we want. Now the standard excuse is openly circular: that other languages are more popular. The closest is the colloquial sense of addictive. But it was obvious what users wanted, so Apple flew under the labels. But when they do notice startups in other towns they prefer them to move.

Thanks to the Berkeley CSUA, Patrick Collison, Robert Morris, and Trevor Blackwell for sparking my interest in this topic.

[lesbiantalks]

Beginners problems in art

I am looking for courses to improve my drawings, I am browsing through books. One of the books I liked is pretty basic and it feels that it was written for the beginner, but by a person who is very proficient in the profession, so advice placed on the page are basically: “Draw that like me, put a shadow here, sketch everything you see, you got this”.

What would I appreciate more:

- How to frame the view around me, so sketch will be composed better. Cause it is a misconception that reality is composed well. Even when you are taking photos, you need to find a good shot and of course, you need to clean it a bit, erase some stuff from background.

- Some angles are more common in drawing than others, and it is not easy to get at first. If you really look on still lifes, for example vases are usually placed straight and you can’t see the inside of them, but coffee cups are quite often are drawn a little from top, so you can actually see the beverage inside.

- To find good references that push you forward, you need to collect a lot of them and systematize them to doable and undoable. Then you need to select a good proportion of different topics - shapes, light and shadows, work with color (how in eerie and dark images you need to distinguish between a lot of shades of gray, for example), anatomy, animals, plot and composition. I would be glad to have assistance in that process, and usually teachers provide that, they help you to develop a versatile overview of techniques and forms. When you are self-taught by books, you need to rely on your own background. I have some of that, but I can’t find a book that dives in into that. Honestly, most of them just go “Draw everything around you!”.

- “Just draw everything you want” is good when you are surrounded by art for a valid chunk of time. And it is not about museums. I did a lot of that, but you need to actually redraw these paintings to really understand them. And also, you need a lot more than that - you need to know the story behind, the techniques, the limitations of time. So you logically turn to modern artists, you try to find different approaches, you start searching for travelers, for less known artists, for photo reports from galleries, and then - then your mind really start giving you ideas. You can’t generate ideas out of plain air. You need to know it beforehand, to be familiar with it.

- The reason though why they insist to turn to your life is that from some level of skill, the main thing is your own vision. Vision is everything, your experience is unique and your sensing of world around is what every other artist wants to know about. You want to see your colleagues to share more that inner magic and inner self and therefore, this advice is a constant component of every guide. Funny, that in writing where I am not so focused on my skills, cause I am somewhere on intermediate stages, I really take inspiration from that advice and I am pretty sure that I said it a lot of time to a lot of beginners. :) When they just needed some help with literally descriptions or character introducing, I would be like “Be yourself!” >) Cause really, the technicalities will come in time, yes.

- How hard should it be? How much do I need to push myself? Should I get every drawing to perfection? Should I try to do complex works? Should I try to mix materials and approaches? Should I try to draw people everyday? No one can tell you that. You need to rely on your instincts. Or on study group. But it is confusing, I can tell. I want to draw everything - a fantasy about mouse family tucked in their beds, a serious sketch with dreamlike dark forest, a replica of portraits of one of the artists I love, I want to try the textures of shells, I want to draw the slices of fruit in watercolor, I want to fill in my sketchbook with doodles and comics, with citations from songs, with random sketch on the train. I want all of that and I am just sorry I can’t do it all simultaneously. I haven't found a book yet that encourages that passion.

[sparklyeevee]

Also, like, and I'm mostly summarizing other people's thoughts here, which I'll link to if my headache gets better before I finish writing this.

Say you're a museum curator, a high school biology teacher, an author of popular nonfiction (for children or adults), an art or film critic. You're not usually gonna be deeply involved in knowledge production, because research is usually expensive and your position likely doesn't come with funding for it, and in any case there are only so many hours in a working day and you're using yours for other things. If everything is working how it's supposed to, you likely have a BA or BS, maybe even an MA or MS, in the field. If everything is working how it's supposed to, this means you understand the big words. If everything is working how it's supposed to, you make an effort to stay up to date on your subject matter. Like I said, you don't have time to do your own research. You also don't have time to slog through a layman-friendly explanation of the entire current state of a topic in order to learn about every new thing that comes out, and even if you did, the researchers, the users of the big words, don't have time to write it, nor do most of them have the aptitude for it. That's someone else's job. In point of fact, in this scenario, its your job. You read the short articles with the long words, and figure out how to explain what's in them to people who lack the ability or inclination to do so, because that's literally your job. You figure out how to provide the necessary background, the appropriate plain language (or explanation of specialized terms), to present the information in a book that the regular bookstore will carry, or a lecture in your classroom, or a little sign at the museum, or hell, in this day and age, a podcast or a YouTube video.

Now, maybe I don't trust you to interpret all those long words for me. That's my right, yeah? But in that case my choices are to either learn to make sense of the big words my own self (hard) or live in ignorance (risky).

And like, yeah, some researchers are also absolutely shit writers whose work is difficult even for other experts to make sense of, and some people in the knowledge transmission roles described above either have an agenda or are just terrible at their jobs, but that's kind of a separate issue. We need to push the humanities, and basic writing skills, harder for the STEM guys, and we need to push Touching Grass Occasionally harder on the humanities guys, and we've all got to use our critical thinking skills, but beyond that I don't know a workaround for this one. But like, I don't know if this is still a thing, but back when podcasts were something you downloaded on the computer and put on your iPod, the American Journal of Psychiatry, and in fact a number of the big journals, had podcasts, which explained the important findings in the latest issue in terms a 9th grader (me) could follow with an occasional Google search.

Anyway, if you're feeling sorta walled out by the actual research in an area of interest, go find other nonfiction about it by people whose actual job includes explaining things to non-experts. If you're not sure how to identify what's useful and reliable, here's some off the top of my head tips

More recent is typically better. If there's something older that's still highly relevant, your newer sources will likely reference it.

They cite their damn sources. You should be able to work backwards to the actual research and/or primary sources from which the author is working.

They acknowledge controversies and points of uncertainty within the field, and acknowledge the case for all legitimate sides, even if they're firm in their own position on a contentious issue.

They do not frequently use block capitals or, in the case of audio or audiovisual materials, raise their voice.

Their reasoning is easy to follow. Relatively easy, anyway - I know this is the ADHD website, but if you find it more than usually difficult to follow what you're reading or hearing, either they're not communicating well or they're trying to convince you of something for which they can't make a well-supported, well-reasoned argument.

You can figure out what their qualifications are.

The text does not open with excessive self-promotion. It may take a minute to get a sense of what's usual for any given medium and field, but if it feels like they're trying weirdly hard to sell you something, including their other work, go careful.

The whole “scientists use big words on purpose to be exclusive” is such a bunch of anti-intellectual bullshit. Specific and concise language exists for a reason; you need the right words to convey the right meaning, and explaining stuff right is a hugely important part of science. Cultures that live around loads of snow have loads of words to describe different types of snow; cultures that live in deserts have loads of words to describe different types of sand. Complex language is needed for complex meaning.

[the-mind-of-a-teacher-to-be]

Martes 17 de Octubre, 2023

Day 9

I can’t believe it has passed 9 days of school observation already. Everything has happened so fast! and I’m still processing what I have been able to experience in the school.

about my day…

This Tuesday our head teacher came back from her medical leave, feeling better than ever.

In comparison to her previous lesson, this time she seemed very reluctant and energized to direct her class.

Before starting, she made sure to ask every student <one by one>, how they were feeling, to test the waters…

And well, as you can expect… inside the classroom we can find different type of students. Some can be very interest in the lesson, some others are not very focused, and some don’t even bother to show a bit of interest on the class; and I been able to observe each kind.

Although it’s still difficult for me to find a way to approach those so called “difficult students”, I’m interested in getting to know what’s behind their attitude. Perhaps, they just need someone to talk to or a space in which they can feel some peace - who knows? - I wish I could get to know more about their backgrounds, but that seems not possible since I’m not legally working for the school.

Agh! Sometimes I wish I could do more than what I’m able to. The most I’m allowed to do is to ask if they’re okay, and from that, see if they’re comfortable sharing their thoughts. If they’re not, I’ll just go, but if they are willing to express their concerns I’ll be very happy to listen. However, I know that that’s not an usual situation inside the classroom. From what I have seen, students often have an attitude whenever they don’t feel okay. They have a tendency to not be very expressive with their emotions and prefer to be quiet at the back of the classroom.

Sometimes I wonder what’s on their minds.

Maybe there’s a need of socio emotional learning.

Not only because of those situations, but because it could be a useful tool to cope with demanding situations that students might go through in their lives.

— (i just noticed I wondered too much that I lost my first idea, I’m sorry, reader) —

… after doing that, she started the lesson by asking her students if they remember what they saw on their last class (which was weeks ago though) and they clearly said no, so she started to recall the content seen in order to refresh their minds.

Then she showed a ppt and started to explain it.

What caught my attention the most was the selection of the vocabulary. She putted 20 new words for students’ to learn on it, that were connected with a video.

Then, the students had to do a vocabulary activity with the words they learned and, in here, we (our group) have to intervene in order to help the students who were a little bit confused by the amount and difficulty or the words selected.

Regarding this point, what I was able to evidence was that students get usually confused by non-cognates. However, I’m not stating that cognates are easy for them because that’s not true, but students were able to suppose what they meant in Spanish by guessing.

Now, in regards of the vocabulary selected I was very concerned, too because of the selection of words because there was no connection.

For example: there was the word

Hater - Work of art - Make feel - Own

(These were taken from a video of Lana Del Rey, but in my perspective, they were very difficult for students to understand because her level of English is obviously very high in comparison to the proficiency level of students)

I’m NOT saying they are not capable of learning them. What I’m trying to say it’s that the material selected might not be the most appropriate thing to apply in relation to the actual level of English of the students.

Learners feel unmotivated when they notice they don’t understand, and we don’t want that.

However, the class went by and we help the students finish their work.

Then we had our break and here, we asked the Math teacher if we could go to his classes and he said that he was going to make students work in a worksheet and he didn’t need help (I was a little bit upset about this), but at least we had some time to eat peacefully.

Then we went to the last class of the day, and then we went home.

That’s it for that day