#i wish i had talent

[mayzeoflife]

me, having an idea for an entire fully-fledged series with developed plot and romance complete with dialogue and everything:💪😎

also me, having zero motivation to even begin it, letting it rot in my brain as i search for similar works that have already been written:💪🥲

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[wicked-binch]

Is these!

Yo u made these?!?? 😲

LIKE 😍

[amimiru]

✨sylvanian dantoru✨

[faiell]

inspired by a scene from this heaven of mud by @garagepaperback

Sitting near but far, legs spilled off the edge of the bed, Potter turned to look at him. There were two wide windows on either side of the bed, drapes drawn back. The lights in Draco’s bedroom were off but it didn’t matter, the flat being in the city. Draco learned it was called light pollution- It meant you couldn’t see the stars. It meant it was much harder not to see what was right in front of you.

Potter looked beautiful. It should have ended months ago, preferably before it started.

[radioducky]

@yezoki after reading the current chapter 8 of ‘The Things We Become in the Aftermath of Rage’ I just had to doodle this particular scene. Alastor is such a drama queen, I absolutely love your work! 🙏

Check out the (still ongoing) fic here!

[bipolareffigy]

I have a sudden need for someone to draw that scene with the Black Knight from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, but make it Deadpool & Woolverine. Specifically Wade, with no arms and no legs, staring up at Logan and saying, “You yellow bastard, come here and take what’s coming to you! I’ll bite your legs off!”

And Logan just looking at him like:

[andtodustwereturnoncemore]

so apparently sidney crosby started the little penguins program aged 21???

and someone from that program is in playing the nhl right now???

when i say that nobody is touching this man's legacy i'm dead serious

[catastrxblues]

EVERMORE by taylor swift (feat. bon iver) — “and i was catching my breath, floors of a cabin creaking under my step. and i couldn’t be sure, i had a feeling so peculiar, this pain wouldn’t be forevermore.”

my #swiftiegiftexchange2024 for @lovesickallovermybed!!!! 🫶🏽🫶🏽

[beebeeswee]

btw lucy and levy have a secret club to talk about their hopeless dragon slayer boyfriends. and yes freed is in it and yes it also doubles as a bookclub.

[dumbcrustyassbitch]

remembering that time when i watched mean girls 2024 once every day for 20 days straight

my honest reaction

[eliorosb3rg]

happy birthday <33

[myokk]

“She’s tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me”😤😤😤

(Regency AU with Eloise and Sebastian inspired by my slow trek through Bridgerton these days & @bassicallymaestra ‘s AMAZING regency inspired art😮‍💨😇🙏)

[laserpaper118]

Eddie is so slow to trust, but the trust he has for Buck builds so rapidly that he's never stopped to realize it.

Buck is so fast to cling, but the bond he has with Eddie builds so gradually that he's not even conscious of it.

Neither of them has ever examined their relationship too closely because of this. Not in all of seven years.

[spittyfishy]

I got to participate in a talent swap collab over on the @drv3giftexchangeclub and the swap I got assigned was Ultimate Moral Compass Kaito!

[platonically-loving-alastor]

Math

Vox: Did you know that the distance between Seattle and Austin is 34,095,562 grilled cheese sandwiches? Val: I did not. Vox: I did the math in my head just now. Val: That's fantastic. 34 million grilled cheese sandwiches, wow. How many loaves of bread is that? Vox: 68,191,124. Wait, loaves or pieces? Val: Loaves. Vox: Hold on. *recalculating* Vox: 3,409,556.2 loaves. If the loaves had 20 slices.