#jacob geller art

[pongosfanart]

It's important that your video essayists get enough enrichment. A visit to the ocean is a great option, especially for any essayists who have expressed a fascination with the deep!

[bigskycastle]

they let me do an illustration for jacob gellers book..! this one is for the essay "every zelda is the darkest zelda"

[ink-the-artist]

I made a golem :)

[youreyesdontglow]

[fraudulent-cheese]

Public murder

[alfheimr]

lorelei and the laser eyes is a wonderful and beautiful game with an enthralling narrative and incredibly satisfying puzzles. it has made me think deeply on the nature of art and its fair to say im a little haunted by it. there is also a piss meter

[dadailybocch]

Bocchi doin' the OTHER famous Yamcha pose, boutta hit you with the Wolf Fang Fist 🐺

[pixlime]

I love you fake haunted ps1 games, I love you purposefully and deliberately shitty graphics, i love you weird indie games made by a single person, i love you shoegaze fake deep indie horror games, i love you big blocky environments and pixelated textures and weird glitchy audio that sounds like it was recorded in a closet, i love you entire games made out of mods of other games, I love you weird uquiz choose your own adventures, i love you games made out of the tools that you were given simply for the love of creating

[nereididae]

I just pre-ordered Jacob Geller's book and now im gnawing at the bars of my enclosure because i won't see it til winter!!!!!!!!!!!

[itsbansheebitch]

Today I learned (from a Jacob Geller video, but here's an article, too) that Al Qaida went on a rampage committing arson, destroying ancient scrolls and manuscripts (specifically in Mali). A librarian who was preserving a collection of PRICELESS manuscripts in Timbuktu knew that Al Qaida would be coming to their library sooner or later, so over the course of six months with the help of several volunteers, they would transport around 200,000 books.

(Some of the documents & books in the library didn't make it out/were destroyed around January 2013) In the beginning they drove 600 mile (checkpoint filled) round trip again and again to each house that has volunteered to put their life on the line to save the books.

Eventually, that method became impossible, and he discovered he (and the other volunteers) only have one choice: FLOATING THE REST OF THE BOOKS DOWN THE NIGER RIVER. BOOKS. DOWN A RIVER. Seven Hundred Ninety One (791) TRUNKS/"footlockers" of BOOKS were sent down a river. You want to know how many made it? How many were recovered? ALL SEVEN HUNDRED NINETY ONE TRUNKS WORTH.

These books are literal relics. "Some date back to the 13th Century, and have survived more than 700 years." Bro, you are awesome, but you are going to give me a heart attack. Anyway, this some wild history and the art in these manuscripts is beautiful.

[moonstandardtime]

Do you ever get this sudden fear that you're dying really slowly, but you're less afraid of the dying part than the fact that you wouldn't know? Sometimes I wonder if my life right now is just memories. I don't like this old wallpaper, I think I need something new.

Reblogs are super appreciated!! tysm! :]

[crooked776]

Ough funky robot

[void-ramen-bog]

[mysticdragon3md3]

[omnybus]

Nazis: homosexuals are degenerates Also Nazis: the only objectively good works of art are statues of big buff naked dudes

[crownamedblue]

Art for no one

Inspired by Jacob Geller’s video essay of the same name

XxXxXxX

I cannot imagine a world where I do not play to an audience: I am the tree, fallen, in the forest, my sound echoing in the ears of those who pay witness, or else not echoing at all.

Art, to me, exists in the eye of the beholder, and so what of that art that spits in that eye? Not by way of drawing attention to itself, or to make a statement, but to hide itself away. This is no hidden grotto, meant only to be shared with those precious to the artist, but instead meant to be hidden entirely. An artist who creates for nobody is not indifferent to an audience, they will instead hoard and hide away their work, and for the life of me I cannot understand it.

The idea alone is maddening, it astounds and confounds me. I try and I try to understand, but all of me, everything I am, is so completely foreign to the idea. This is not something beautiful hidden away to be found later by an unassuming stranger, delighted at what they find, no, this is to be hidden away and rot, crumble into dust.

Art is a message, to me, from the artist to audience, but why must you insist on a complete lack of one? What is your message, and whose ear is it you whisper into? God? Yourself? Nature? What do you know that I don’t, how can you create and not wish to share your thoughts, your process, the finished work?

Did it bring you shame, that wonderful work I can only describe as a masterpiece? You spend half your life, you painted it upon the walls of your house, you’ll never feel the same way again and you must look at that paint constantly. You, who carved lines into stone, perfect curves and parallels, seen only by those who watch up above, long before your decendents touched the sky, who were you carving for?

Self motivation is all well and good, but even an artist most removed from their work will still showcase it, and even if that work was mere practice, surely it wouldn’t be hidden away? Do you feel our presence; our analyses and critiques; our thoughts and our actions; might ruin your piece? Do you feel that to allow your work to be perceived is to taint it, to somehow usher in imperfection? Is it a matter of pride? Of hubris? Of shame? I only wish to understand, but is that the very reason you keep it from me?