#link to the sculpture referenced !

[vodka-and-ocs]

How to blow up two heads at once

[miasmatik]

Sins of the Mother 🩸

Pose referenced from Ugolino and His Sons, one of my favorite sculptures based on a story from Dante’s Inferno about a father who dooms his children to eternal starvation. Felt very House Dimitrescu ~ links

[rosyronkey]

hi! i wrote an essay about rosy ronkey and her clothes, and i hypothesized what time period i think shes from/inspired by ^^ below if you wanna read more :))

ive been fixated (or had a special interest or whatever you want to call it) on rosy ronkey for a YEAR today. i've always been pretty interested in her outfit from an aesthetically pleasing point of view, but recently i wanted to see if i could find any trends and time periods in the inspirations of her clothes, which is what this essay is about! it’s going to be an explanation of most of her clothes, top to bottom, from what i can assume with the research i've done. i say research, but i probably don’t have the best sources? they’ll be linked below, but it was really more cross-referencing than anything else lol

i reached out to annie montgomerie for comment/criticism, but she’s obviously very busy and i enjoyed my research from a subjective point of view :)

basic specs on rosy (no one else but me cares): looking at rosy, the only zoomorphic, or animal looking, aspect of hers is her head. judging by proportions and cross-referencing, she looks to have the body of an american girl doll. this is just what i’ve noticed, but annie’s most recent stuff is way less anthropomorphized compared to rosy and the group she was made with. looking at annie’s most recent exhibit, hand me downs, every single piece is completely animal, with hand-sculpted claws, paws, wings and hooves. some of these dolls legs still look like american girl doll legs, but most everything else is animalistic. this isn’t important, but i just thought id mention it because artists’ growth over time is cool!

starting with her coat, it looks like a double-breasted red childrens’ coat with two rows of two buttons each. these kinds of coats are still available today, but i could find the closest matches by looking at 1920s childrens’ coats, specifically rothschild coats. the rothschild family has a long and complicated history, but all that’s important to know is that they are new york based (which doesn’t totally fit my assumptions about her; in general i assume all of annie montgomerie’s dolls are british because of her nationality) and they’ve been in business for over 100 years. by cross-referencing the growing style of double-breasted coats in the 1920s, and the style of rothschild childrens’ coats in ads from the time, i feel like it’s easy to assume rosy's character has this coat, or at least was very heavily inspired by it.

a theory i’ve seen before is that the ticket on her coat is a luggage label. these were used during WWII to evacuate british children during the blitz. the history press site says luggage labels listed “name, school and evacuation authority,” and is also where i got most of my information. i want to tentatively deny this theory. i'm pretty sure the ticket is an annie montgomerie staple opposed to a part of rosys' character. she's shown with the tag in the yorkshire sculpture park video, and on gerard way’s website, but she’s missing it in all the photos posted by annie montgomerie herself on facebook and instagram. almost every single annie montgomerie piece on display or for sale has a tag as well. i love this theory, and it’s probably what got me interested in researching her outfit in the first place, but i don’t think i could prove it if i tried.

other than the ticket, she has white roses on the left side of her coat and some smaller twigs? sticks? pinned to her collar. white roses symbolize purity, youthfulness, innocence, and in some contexts, respect for the departed. i couldn’t find any historical photos of children with roses in their outfits, but across the board that was the result i got for their meaning. i can’t discern what she has on her right collar for the life of me, if someone else can figure this out, PLEASE tell me

her dress is pink, with a cinched embroidered waist and a peter pan collar. peter pan collars became popular in the 1920s, and have been a staple of childrens’ dresses since (sources for this one were a few blogs and wikipedia, but also some ads, so i feel pretty confident with it.) some ads for girls’ dresses in the 1920s had the same soft pleats and embroidered waist as seen on rosys’ dress. i don’t think there’s a meaning behind the color, except that it compliments the red coat and her fur.

her stockings are standard, I couldn’t find much special meaning behind them, british children have been wearing stockings forever, and for girls especially, stockings became more popular in the 1920s as dresses got shorter. usually they were sheer and nude, and rosys’ look like the gray kind kids wear today, but i think it’s still period appropriate to an extent. her shoes look like red mary janes for american girl dolls, just more scuffed and dirtied. mary jane shoes themselves have been around for a while (called “bar shoes” originally,) but they got their name in 1904. in one of the first drafts for this, i read the fairy tale “the red shoes” to see if it offered any insight. i thought it’d be fun to relate, but it’s just a popular danish fairy tale, and it was hard for me to entertain the idea for long.

TLDR: i think rosy ronkeys outfit is inspired by british 1920s fashion!

that’s all I have! i apologize if this was underwhelming or overwhelming or whatever, i had no model to base this off of and the only tumblr essays i read are from my friends <3 i hope you enjoyed! i love rosy ronkey!

link to my dumbfuck google doc with all the links and braindump on it :)

[van-yangyin]

FantaCat Set 2/2 【Simblreen 2023 - Weekend 1】 (3)

You couldn't be in my porchlight this weekend on Tumblr? Or couldn't you get all my treats? Don't worry, now FantaCat set is available for everyone. This was part of treat I gave to those choosing number three of my five treats.

This is second and last part of FantaCat Set that contain a FantaCat as decoration so you can move up at height you want. Hope you enjoy this gift. 🍬🍭

FantaCat, your faithful friend! A faithful friend who will never leave your side in any of your lives! Their faces are vaguely reminiscent of some of pumpkins that townies place around town at harvest time, but that’s because they love to copy faces. 👻

Download under keep reading ↓

If you download my CC it means your agree with my T.O.U (English/Español/日本語).

FantaCat Decoration

FantaCat Decoration (Clutter) General Info:

14 Swatches

Base game compatible

All LODs

All Maps

No shadow on floor so you can move up all you want without a weird shadow flying below the object with bb.moveobjects on

FantaCat is located on Sculpture, Decorative. 【English Name: FantaCat, your faithful friend! Description: A faithful friend who will never leave your side in any of your lives! Their faces are vaguely reminiscent of some of pumpkins that townies place around town at harvest time, but that’s because they love to copy faces.】 Contain a description in Spanish too, description is personalized by me and Lea (@lea-heartscxiv)

Textures and mesh made from scratch (Faces referenced from objects game)

Custom Thumbnail

LOD Information: LOD0: 1364 poly | LOD1: 680 poly

~⭐️DOWNLOAD LINKS⭐️~

🎃DOWNLOAD LINK🎃 (Patreon ~ Always free, no adfly)

🎃DOWNLOAD LINK🎃 (SFS ~ Always free, no adfly)

~⭐️🎃⭐️~

Let me know if you find any problem. 🙏❣️

IF YOU LIKE MY WORK PLEASE CONSIDER BECOME A PATREON OR TIP ON KO-FI. ANY HELP IS ALWAYS WELCOMED BUT ALWAYS OPTIONAL. YOU CAN ALSO COMMISSION ME HERE OR FROM TUMBLR, IF YOU WANT ME TO DO SOMETHING SPECIFIC FOR YOU.  THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT!

👀👉MORE DOWNLOADS

📻 @simblreenofficial, @sssvitlanz, @alwaysfreecc, thank you always to all for your support rebloging my posts! ❤️

Happy first weekend of Simblreen! 🎃

💛

🛹 You can find me also on Patreon | Pinterest | Ko-Fi | Blogger (Shared with Lea) | Instagram | X (Twitter) | My F.A.Q. | My T.O.U. | MORE DOWNLOADS 🛹

[project-sekai-facts]

The stage for the Totemo Suteki na Rokugatsu Deshita 3DMV is decorated with multiple framed paintings. While some of these are just generic paintings, there are 4 designs that each connect to a different member of 25-ji, Nightcord de.

Kanade's picture is of a hospital bed, referencing her father who is currently staying in hospital. Since the bed is stripped, it could also be a reference to her now-deceased mother who grew sick and had to stay in hospital when Kanade was younger, as shown in flashbacks in Carnation Recollection and mentioned in Kanade's The Dream I Saw Will One Day... card story (screencap source).

Mafuyu's picture is of the marionette doll that triggered her panic attack in Captive Marionette. Mafuyu is often associated with marionettes and puppets due to how her life has been controlled by her parents.

Ena's picture is of an observational drawing of some sort of stone bust. This is possibly a reference to On This Blank Canvas, I Paint, where she had to illustrate a sculpture in both a flashback and in the present. In both instances her art was criticised by her teacher.

Mizuki's picture is of a cute outfit, which obviously links to their love of fashion and cute things. However if you look at the image a little closer, you might notice that in front of the dress is a boys school uniform, a nod to the fact that Mizuki still presented as masculine during middle school, until their sister encouraged them to be a little more true to themself in flashbacks in And Now, the Ribbon is Tied. Mizuki's painting is also the only one with notably bright colors, specifically pink, usually associated with femininity and a recurring color in Mizuki's palette.

[dreaming-irl-sleeping]

Gojohime as inspired by "Eros and Psyche" referencing the sculpture "Psyche revived by Cupid's Kiss" Antonio Canova

Link to reference: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Psyche_Revived_by_Cupid%27s_Kiss

[perfectly-misaligned95]

☽ Crystal Guide for Witchlings ☾

Source: https://mysticumluna.com/en-us/blogs/blog/crystals-for-baby-witches-zodiac-compatibility-properties

Whether your starting your spiritual journey or just looking for a little back up in day to day life, Crystals can help aid you through difficult stages and mental blockages. When starting to look at Crystals it can become overwhelming trust us we know the feeling, as there are over 300 known! Hopefully this Beginners Guide to Crystals can help kick start your love for them!

Rose Quartz

Planet : Venus 

Element : Earth

Zodiac : Taurus

Rose Quartz is one of the best Crystals for a beginner Witch or even someone just looking for a bit of help in life. It is often referenced to as the "Love Stone", this goes all the way back to the legend of Aphrodite’s blood-stained on white quartz when she cut herself on a thorny bush to save her love Adonis from Are’s war.

The properties of this Crystal are :

Strengthening love or romantic relationship

Awakening sensual creativity

Empties suppressed negative emotions

Controls disagreements and personal conflicts

Blocks nightmares and gives happy dreams

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Amethyst 

Planet : Uranus

Element : Air

Zodiac : Aquarius

 If you are looking for the most popular crystal Amethyst is one for you! It is considered the most powerful and protective stone. It is known for its ability to help Anxiety and to sleep, helping to bring emotional balance since it centers one's emotions, giving people the ability to deal with both emotional highs and lows.

The healing qualities of Amethyst :

Relieves an individual from stress and strain, fear and anxiety

Opens intuition and enhances psychic abilities of a person

 Produces a calming effect to the mind hence keeping people focused and aware of occurrence in their surroundings

Helps aid sleep at night. It further helps in remembering and understanding of dreams

Protects from all types of suffering including spiritual assault

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Tigers Eye

Planet : Saturn

Element : Fire, Earth

Zodiac : Capricorn & Leo

Commonly Tigers Eye can be seen to represent the colours of an actual Tiger, it is thought to actually symbolise the animals strength, bravery, and courage. Its one of the most historical Crystals dating back to the early Egyptians as they were charmed by the Tigers Eye and they used it in their famous sculptures as the deities actual eye!

It has many properties that help on the daily :

Relieves its bearer of any distress and negative energy  

Amplifies psychic abilities and eventually leads to opening third eye

Develops willpower

Uplifts spirits and helps overcome emotional hurdles 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Howlite

Planet : Mercury

Element : Air

Zodiac : Gemini

Howlite is the crystal of compassion, perfect for all you Geminis out there - this crystal perfectly balances this zodiac out. It appears as a white hue which is often linked to the Crown chakra!  

The properties of Howlite are : 

Help you to stay engaged to astral planes

Aids in the treatment of insomnia

Gives your spirit the vitality to complete their transformation

Reminds us to pause and examine all the options before reacting

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Labradorite

Planet : Venus

Element : Water

Zodiac : Scorpio & Sagittarius 

Known as the "Stone of magic", Labradorite specialises in spiritual ability making it the perfect aid for all you baby Witches out there! If you are in need of a crystal to help with physicic protection this stunning crystal is ideal, aswell as commonly sourced meaning you wont have trouble getting your hands on it!

Labradorites properties are the following :

Helps protect from inside and out

Removes insecurities

Aids to increase faith and trust

A magnet of good luck for misfortunes

[murphy-kitt]

Black Cat - Ectober Day 3

AO3 Link (TBA)

Tags: Angst, Referenced/Implied Pet Death

After noticing a classmate struggling with the death of her cat, Danny decides to anonymously help her complete an art project.

Usually, she finds art class is a time to relax. The last period every Friday before the weekend, a time to wind down and forget the chaos of Caspar High whilst splodging paint on a canvas.

Bianca likes it this way. A routine. Half the time she’s not even focused on what she’s painting, but the teacher hasn’t flagged her up yet, so she must be doing something right.

Now it’s a new grade, a new school year. The class is still scheduled every Friday last period, so Bianca expects nothing will change.

Until it does.

In the form of one Danny Fenton.

He’s a new addition to the art class, and quite frankly, Bianca is surprised to see him. She hears plenty enough about his constant truancy to know he’s more absent from lessons than present.

But all in all, Danny seems okay from what she knows of him. Two close friends, an obsession with space, a kind-heart. Somehow normal, considering his parents come in the form of two hazmatted weirdos.

So apart from the truancy and absences, there’s nothing really that strikes Bianca as being odd. There’d been a rumour last year about him having glowing green eyes. Bianca doesn’t know where that one came from, but she figures someone probably just saw his reflection in the light of a ghost alarm and jumped to conclusions.

The black haired girl settles into her seat, watching other students file into the room. The teacher, Ms. Harper, fusses with the board before returning to her desk. Her eyes scan the class and the obvious gap beside Bianca.

No Danny Fenton, not yet. Or maybe never.

After five minutes of taking register and waiting, Ms. Harper claps her hands together, fracturing the casual chatter in the class to silence.

“Right class. Second art class of the year. You had last week to get settled back in, but now we’re going to put our heads down and focus properly on our new project, okay?” She pauses, diverting a gaze to the window, “Even with the ghost attacks.”

She presses a button on her keyboard, the title of the screen shown in large bold letters.

Bianca’s veins turn to ice. She’s never had a problem with the project topics they do, Caspar High always make them vague and adaptable—a way of ‘thinking outside the box’. Instantly her mind is drawn to what subject she’ll do, maybe a good thing, but she can’t bring herself to even think about it.

”Our topic this semester will be about animals. Take this any way you wish. Pets, your favourite animals, our school mascot if you so wish. You can paint, sculpture, draw…anything.”

Pets. Bianca has a cat. Or had. She still remembers him well, for the fact he only died over the summer break.

She could take it out the easy way, avoid all the emotional stress of it and draw something simple, like a bird from her backyard or the likes. But deep down, she knows she can’t. Some stupid sense of betrayal if she doesn’t make this project about her cat—one final goodbye.

And whilst her mind is a flurry of thoughts, Danny Fenton bursts into the classroom, barely exerted, blue (green?) eyes blown wide with panic.

”Sorryimlateihadtobathroombreak.” He pants out in one stumbled breath, heaving himself up on the stool next to her.

”Well…” Ms. Harper blinks, taken aback, “I appreciate your presence nonetheless, Mr Fenton.”

”Thank god, not another detention.” Bianca barely registers Danny mumbling under his breath. Ms Harper is a pretty lenient teacher when it comes to attendance, as long as you hang work in on the deadlines.

”We’re doing a project about animals.” Bianca murmurs without thinking, as Danny glances at her.

”Thanks.” He blinks, seemingly taken aback, “At least I won’t be clueless now.”

With Danny now in the know about the project, Bianca turns her thoughts back to what she’ll do. It has to be Obi, no matter what.

Perhaps a watercolour? She’s always wanted to do more practice with them. Or stick to what she knows and go with the basic pencils and paper?

Hands over her face, Bianca wracks her brains for ideas. She can still remember the scheming little imp of a cat, with his incessant meowing and clinginess��yet she loved him all the same. Affectionate, playful.

She fails to notice Danny narrowing his eyes in concern beside her.

—

The lessons go on, and Bianca finds herself spiralling into a plethora of burnout and exhaustion. These lessons are supposed to be a reprieve, but how can they be when nearly all of her work ends up crumpled on the floor? She winces, ashamed as paper crinkles under the table.

“Brilliant progress from everyone!” Ms. Harper announces at the front of the class, clapping her hands together as she continues to weave through the tables. Tables of students all doing work except for hers, all focused diligently on their work at hand.

Except for her. Maybe Ms. Harper thinks she’s responsible enough to be left alone and trusted to do work–probably why Bianca was seated next to Danny Fenton in the first place. He’s not here either, but she’s frankly glad of his absence. At least it means she can stew in isolation without judgemental eyes.

Come on, Bianca. It’s just a stupid pencil sketch. She looks at the paper on the table, the black pencil lying askew. She’d thought by using her favourite pencils and paper it would make the experience of committing to the project more bearable. The two sheets of crumpled paper say otherwise.

Just a stupid sketch. She starts with the ears, the fur on the edge of the face. A triangular nose, the small curve of a mouth, the muzzle.

And then the eyes. The drawing looks like something–a decent formation of a cat.

But its the eyes. She can never get them right.

Start again. Bianca scrunches the paper in her palm, dropping it on the floor and kicking it under the table in one quick motion.

“Sorry!” the blurted apology she’s become used to echoes the room, with the patter of strangely light footsteps as Danny Fenton plonks his bag on the table with a metallic clank.

“Bianca, your poor artwork!” Ms. Harper is suddenly by her side (probably to antagonise Danny), picking up the crumpled illustration of her cat, flattening it on the table, “Why was it on the floor?”

Because I didn't like it? Because I can’t bear to draw my cat? She hesitates. Ms. Harper is one of those art teachers that if a student says their art is bad, will go on a tangent about different skill levels and to have more self belief. And whilst Bianca doesn’t mind these tangents, it’s not something she’s willing to deal with.

“Uh–” She tugs at her sleeves, trying to find an excuse.

“Ms. Harper, I need help catching up!” As if the timing wasn’t any better, Danny slams his hands on the table, sparing a glance at her crumpled artwork before sheepishly grinning at the teacher. “I don’t have a clue what’s going on.”

“And you would do if you attended our lessons.” Bianca feels the tension ease off her chest as Ms. Harper goes to Danny’s side of the table, lecturing him about attendance. But there’s still the risk of her coming back to interrogate her.

A final stare at the incomplete cat, Bianca kicks her small collection of other discarded works out from under the table. Discreetly, she hugs the crumpled papers to her chest, swiftly walking down the side of the classroom as to keep out of everyone’s way, towards the bin. Without a second thought she tosses them in and migrates to the sink where all the paints are stored.

Time to start again.

She "starts again" but never completes.

Each time desperately trying a new method, hoping something will eventually allow her to look upon a picture with satisfaction.

Watercolour. Acrylics, Oils.

Stippling. Scribbling. Cross-hatching.

She even tries printing off photos of Obi and gluing them in some sort of scrapbook style-but that ends up failed.

Thirteen illustrations of eyeless cats. All of them failures to capture any resemblance to the cat she knew.

Bianca tosses another drawing in the bin--it's routine at this point, when something makes her shudder down to her bones.

"This will be your last lesson to work on this." Ms. Harper announces, dousing her in horror. And then Bianca sees what she hasn't noticed in weeks, too focused on her own disaster.

Artwork, everywhere. Big canvases splashed with colour, some multiple small ones, black and white sketches. drawings filling up each table.

And her table is empty of anything. So is Danny's side. She's not sure what he's doing, but he seems to habit the bench next to the sink a lot, mixing trays of paints. So she assumes he must have a project. Perhaps next door-it'd explain why she never sees the trays of paint, or why he never brings them over to their table. If it's not that, he's absent, getting told off, or sitting with a weirdly concerned and reflective look on his face.

"Great." To her surprise, Danny approaches the table, his tray of paint balanced in one hand.

"Aren't you going to work on your project? Next door?" She asks before she can help herself.

"My project?" Danny blurts, confusion glowing in his eyes before he shakes his head. "Oh right, yeah. My...project...next door." He gestures generally, "I'm going to work on it at home tonight. Don't think I can focus on it at this place."

"I don't think Fentonworks would exactly be much easier." She raises a brow.

"Yeah." Danny huffs a laugh, "But it's nearly done. and, well, I hope she likes it."

"Ms. Harper will love anything you hand in at this point, even a plain sheet of paper."

"Ms. Harper...yeah..." He nods, his voice trailing off in silence as he grabs the paint tray. A paint tray which until now, Bianca didn't realise are all the same shades of neon green. it kind of looks like normal acrylic paint mixed with gelatine. Why does he need just one colour?

And when Bianca looks up, she swears she can the same colour glimmering in Danny's eyes.

All of last years rumours come flooding back to her mind. but she pushes them aside, more focused on the very impending deadline of the project. Submission by Monday morning. So she's got two days.

As the rest of the class departs, some reluctant to and wanting to work on their piece, Bianca sidles back to the bin to pick out her most recent thrown away creation. She clings to the edge of the bin, rummaging around the tissues and paper scraps. It's not there. A twinge of confusion enters her, and Bianca turns her head to scan over Ms. Harper's desk at a distance.

There's no crumple of paper. So where is it? She double, triple checks the bin again. But it's not there.

"Have you lost something?" A student she doesn't know of approaches her, some scraps in his hands. He looks concerned.

"Uh, no. Sorry." Bianca recoils back, pulling her sleeves around her hands.

"It's alright. " The student gives her a reassuring smile, depositing the scraps in the bin.

But she's far from reassured. Ms. Harper doesn't have her scrapped pieces. She definitely put them in the bin. They're not on the table.

The only conclusion is that another student has taken them out of the bin.

—

She can feel her nerves simmering away as she sits in her chair, glancing around the room at students with things in their hands. Their projects, presumably.

And her? She’s got nothing but herself and a backpack so flat that it’s clear there’s nothing in it.

Ms. Harper makes her way around the room, talking and inspecting each students work with either affirmation or encouragement. One thing is clear though, is that everyone has handed in something.

Danny Fenton still isn’t here, Bianca briefly observed, but she doesn’t care. She’s too worried.

Her heart plummets and her heart feels clammy as Ms. Harper comes over to her desk, paper and pen in hand.

”Thank you for handing your project in before the lesson started, Bianca. I can understand such a personal project you would want discussed infront of classmates. We can talk about it later, if you would like.”

What? Bianca feels her mouth go dry. She blinks.

What project? She hasn’t submitted anything. And certainly not before the lesson either.

”Are you alright?” Ms. Harper preens, her brow narrowing in worry.

”Oh—yes. Yes I’m fine.” She covers her confusion with an awkward cough. The art teacher gives her a small nod.

”Danny Fenton. I don’t suppose you have a project to hand in?” Ms. Harper questions as Danny trails in the room, a sheepish expression already upon his face.

“I—uh.” Danny stumbles, in what clearly is a lie.

Bianca saw him. Saw him mixing the paints by the sink, the weird green gelantin substance. He’d been doing something.

”I was helping someone else…” Danny trails off, his face flushing in what Bianca swears is a light shade of green, not pink, “I didn’t get the time to do mine.”

”Very honourable of you, Mr Fenton.” Ms. Harper drawls, her usual dissatisfaction at not being handed a project arising. “I’ll give you a week long extension for the sake of it, alright?”

”Yes Ms. Harper.” Danny nods, shuffling up to the table.

The lesson scatters on with Bianca’s nerves fizzling by the second, her confusion growing. It doesn’t make sense. She hasn’t submitted anything.

The bin was empty. She recalls. Someone has to have taken it. Someone…took her project and made one in her name? Why? Who?

From the sideways glances she’s getting from Danny Fenton, her confusion must be visible on her face, so she tries to push it aside until the lesson ends.

Students flood out the room, eager to leave, but Bianca remains put. Fingers clenched to the side of the table. Feet tapping the tiles.

”Well, it’s certainly not the first time someone has submitted their project before the lesson starts.” Ms. Harper begins as she steps from the room next door the room Danny had been working in , a large sheet of cardboard in her arms. Carefully, the art teacher flips it over and places it on the table infront of her.

Obi’s fluorescent eyes stare back. All her drawings, watercolours, pastels, sketches of her cat smoothed out onto the cardboard, no longer absent of life. The likeness of his expression is astounding—the same mischievous glimmer that she’d failed to capture.

So who had? And how?

Bianca’s breath catches in her throat.

“Are you alright?” Ms. Harper begins, “You look like you’ve never seen it before.”

”I, this it…” Bianca stutters, but she can’t form the words.

”I understand.” Ms. Harper gives her a reassuring smile, “You’re so caught up in completing the project that you never get to stop and really look and reflect on what you’ve created.”

”Yes.” Is all she can say, “I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

Which is true, in a way. She didn’t have the guts to complete the project.

”I can clearly tell this project is very personal to you, possibly a struggle.” Ms. Harper preens over the art. “You love your cat very dearly.”

Yes. Obi had been loved, and she missed him more than anything.

”Loved him. He—Obi. That’s what he was called.” Bianca says, and stares into the neon green eyes.

The neon green eyes.

The same shade of green Danny Fenton had used to complete her project.

—

A/N: And this is the one-shot that kicks off ectober! A bit more of a self-indulgent fic here, it was based off the emotions I felt when I gave away my cat Obi for adoption. He was a void cat (and very cheeky) so I thought, why not immortalise him in my writing for the Halloween season?

Here’s cat tax:

[bad-fucking-omens]

The Witch Twin (Alec V. x OC) - Chapter 9 - Waiting

Summary: When I thought about my future, I was sure that I had the rest of my life vaguely planned out.

Then, my older sister moved up from Arizona to stay with us — and turned my entire life upside down.

I had no idea just how bad it had gotten until I was standing in a castle in Italy, convinced that I was about to die.

Length: 3K words (Complete fic 71.8K words)

Fic warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, explicit smut (M/F), referenced/implied past child abuse, emotional manipulation by sibling

Chapter warnings: Description of graphic violence and death, PTSD

Read on AO3 or read below

9. WAITING

Alec led me through the castle, watching me with a fond smile as my eyes traced over the artwork that hung on the stone walls. He had agreed to take me on a tour of the castle that I was now living in, but I was far more interested in the magnificent artwork that lined the walls.

“All of these paintings are masterpieces that have been considered lost over the centuries,” Alec told me.

“Really? How did the Volturi get them?”

“The Masters — well, all of us, really — enjoy artwork and literature. We all keep an eye out for any news about lost or stolen masterpieces. Usually, we can find them if we put in a little effort. Instead of returning them to the humans that lost them in the first place, we keep them here. We take better care of them than any human museum can.”

“How many are there?”

“Oh, a fair amount. We have more than just paintings. There’s sculptures, too, but we only have a handful of those,” Alec said.

“Any by Van Gogh?”

Alec grinned and gently tugged my hand. He led me through several hallways until he finally slowed and stopped before one painting.

My breath caught in my throat as I looked at it. The oil painting portrayed a vase of vivid yellow flowers with two red flowers drooping on the left side against a dark background. I traced my eyes along the brushstrokes, awed at seeing a true Van Gogh in person.

“I take it that you like Van Gogh?” Alec teased gently. He tucked my brown hair behind my ear, a soft smile on his lips.

I smiled. “Yeah. I always have.” He slowly moved to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and gently pulling me back against his chest. He rested his chin on my shoulder. “I’ve just always loved the way he paints. The brushstrokes, the colors, the composition. . . . Something about his work has always been compelling to me.”

Alec hummed. “He was a genius artist. . . . Which one of his works is your favorite?”

“That’s a tough question.” I laughed. “I’m not sure I could choose just one.”

“Tell me your top three, then.”

“Um. . . . Skull of a Skeleton with Burning Cigarette, Almond Blossom, and . . . Starry Night Over the Rhône, I think. They’re all different from each other, and beautiful in their own distinct ways,” I explained. I leaned back into his arms and asked, “Do you know the name of this one?”

“Poppy Flowers,” he answered. “It’s been lost to the human world since the nineteen-seventies.”

“How did the Volturi find it?”

“We were on a mission. When we told Aro that we had found it, he had it brought back to the castle and had it hung here,” Alec said. “I believe it is one of his favorites, too.”

“I can see why. It is truly gorgeous.”

“You’re prettier,” he whispered in my ear. I blushed and Alec laughed quietly, then pressed a kiss to my cheek, the warmth of my skin making his cold lips feel even cooler.

I turned to face him. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I looked up at him. Alec stared back down at me, a faint smile on his lips.

“Let’s go back to our room,” Alec suggested.

He led me through the winding corridors of the castle, my hand in his and our fingers linked together. When we reached our room, I pulled him towards the glass doors that led to the balcony. I stared out at the clear night sky, amazed at how easily I could see the bright stars that formed familiar constellations.

“Alec?”

“Eve?”

“Can we spend the night on the balcony?” I looked at him over my shoulder. “Please?”

“It will be cold,” he replied, his voice hesitant.

“I’ll be okay. And if you think that I’m getting too cold, we’ll go back inside,” I bargained, turning around to face him.

Alec held my eyes for a moment before he sighed and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Okay,” he murmured against my skin.

I grinned and hugged him tightly. “Thank you!”

“You’re very hard to say no to,” he teased. I giggled.

Alec pulled away from me to grab the pillows and the comforter off the bed. I opened the doors to the balcony when he returned to my side. Alec spread the comforter on the stone balcony and dropped the pillows down on one side. He took my hand and drew me down to sit on the comforter with him, so that I was sitting between his legs. I leaned back against his chest as he tucked the blanket around me.

From our place on the balcony, I could see the inner courtyard of the castle. It was a large rectangular area, hidden from the outside by the tall walls of the castle. Four pale stone pathways led from each wall of the castle to the center of the courtyard, where a tall, white marble fountain stood. I could faintly hear the sound of the running water.

“Thank you for agreeing to this,” I murmured to Alec as his arms curled around me. “I’ve always wanted to fall asleep under the stars with someone I love.”

Alec smiled and pressed a kiss to my hair. “I should have guessed that my incredibly sweet girl would be a romantic as well.”

“Shut up,” I mumbled, blushing.

“I like that you’re a romantic,” Alec said, resting his chin against my head. “It makes you even more adorable.”

I turned my head and brushed my lips lightly across his jaw. Alec hummed quietly and reached up to rub his thumb along my cheekbone.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, then another to my cheek. I smiled.

Alec laid back and drew me down with him. I curled up against his side and rested my head on his chest, wrapping my arm around his waist. Alec pulled the thick comforter over our bodies and tucked it tighter around my body so I stayed warm.

I stared up at the clear sky, which was so dark blue that it was nearly black. My eyes traced the imagined lines between the stars that made up each constellation that I could recognize. The great bear Ursa Major, the little bear Ursa Minor, the dragon Draco, and Perseus, the mighty Greek hero. The tales of how the constellations received their names were all very familiar to me — I had loved reading and learning about Greek mythology as a child, and that love hadn’t faded at all over the years.

My eyes began to flutter as I grew tired. I just barely felt the kiss Alec pressed to the top of my head and the fingers he trailed lightly along my cheek as my eyes finally closed for the last time that night.

“There’s something I want to show you,” Alec said.

I smiled as he took my hand in his and started to lead me through the long, winding corridors of the castle. He pulled me close to his side and I giggled as I blushed, which made him laugh along with me.

We finally stopped before a large set of double doors made of dark oak wood. Alec turned to face me, taking both of my hands in his and rubbing his thumbs along the backs of my hands.

“Have you ever seen our kind in the sunlight?” he asked softly.

“In the throne room when I was first in Volterra,” I admitted. “Only briefly, when two of the guards walked through a beam of sunlight. . . . Isn’t it forbidden to be in the sunlight around humans?”

“In public, yes. But the courtyard is only visible from within the castle and you are my mate,” he replied with a soft smile.

Alec leaned close and kissed me quickly, pulling away before I could be completely overwhelmed. He smirked at my slight pout. He reached up to brush his thumb along my lip so lightly that I barely felt his touch.

Then, he turned and opened one of the doors. Alec stepped aside, gesturing for me to go through the door before him. I walked out into the large courtyard. In each corner of the courtyard, gardens were filled with all different kinds of brightly colored flowers that were beginning to bloom. The smooth, off-white pebbles crunched under my feet as I stepped on them, slowly walking down the path that led to the large water fountain. Now that I was closer, I could see that it was sculpted in the image of some Greek or Roman gods. The crystal clear water was sparkling in the bright sun.

“The courtyard is beautiful,” I said.

I turned around when Alec didn’t speak, and saw that he had stepped into the sunlight. At first, the light blinded me. I put my hand up and blinked rapidly as my eyes tried to adjust to the light. I gasped when I saw Alec.

His skin was as pale as ever, but it was sparkling in the sun just like the water in the fountain. It was as if he had been carved from an enormous gemstone and now all the facets were catching in the light.

After a few moments, I took a small step closer and reached out to him. Alec’s hand flew up to meet mine quickly. I placed my hand in his and his cold fingers gently gripped my hand, drawing me closer. I moved my hand so that I was gripping his wrist. I turned his hand over. His palm glittered, scattering hundreds of tiny rainbows across my own skin.

“You’re breathtaking,” I breathed.

Alec smiled. He slid his fingers through mine, linking our hands together, and said softly, “Dance with me, sweet girl.”

I laughed and nodded. Alec drew me closer to his chest, wrapping one arm around my waist and holding my hand in the air while I placed my other hand on his shoulder. I followed his lead, letting him slowly sway us to silent music. After a while, I let my hand on his shoulder fall to his waist and I rested my head against his marble chest, watching the skin on his arms shimmer with half-closed eyes. He nuzzled into my hair and I smiled.

I loved these moments with Alec, when we were totally alone and focused entirely on each other. It always felt as if we were the only two people in the whole world.

When the sun dipped below the walls of the castle, we finally went back up to our room. Alec sat on the couch, then drew me down onto his lap. I leaned into him and curled up in his arms. He kissed my forehead.

“My love, there’s something I want to tell you.”

I looked up at him. ���Is something wrong?”

“No,” Alec assured me. “It’s just something that you should know about me. . . . Have you ever wondered how I became a vampire and joined the Volturi?”

“Of course.”

“I’m going to tell you how it happened,” Alec said, his voice soft and somewhat strained. I glanced up at him. There was a far-away look in his eyes, as if he wasn’t really seeing the room around us and was instead lost in his memories.

“When Jane and I were still humans, we . . . we had these . . . powers.” Alec’s voice was hard, yet quiet and almost detached, as if he was talking about someone else rather than his own life. “We couldn’t outright control our powers, but we must have had some sort of control over them because it always seemed as if bad things would happen to people who were mean to us and good things happened to those who were kind. . . . Aro learned about our powers when we were very young from a nomad who had passed through our village and had seen what we could do. Aro saw potential in us to be incredibly powerful and he wanted us to join the Volturi, but he had to wait until we were older. The Volturi had already made a law against creating immortal children — young children that were turned into vampires.”

Alec fell silent for a moment. When he spoke again, I could hear the rage simmering in his voice.

“The others in our village started to hate us. They accused us of being witches and they shunned me and Jane and our mother. . . . They treated us so horribly. They barely spoke to us and they started to refuse to sell us anything. They would break the fence that surrounded our cottage and steal the crops from our garden. The children and even the adults would taunt us, which would only cause more bad things to happen to them. . . .”

His voice wavered as he said, “One day . . . Jane was concerned by some of the village boys. They . . . they hurt her. Whatever powers she had lashed out at the boys to protect her and they started choking. She ran away from them as soon as she had the chance. She found me and told me what happened. We knew that the village would never forgive us for this, so we decided to leave the village. But when we reached our cottage to get Mother, the villagers were already chasing after us. All five of the boys were dead. The village wanted our blood.

“We tried to escape through the forest that was behind our home, but they caught us. . . . They killed Mother in the woods when she tried to defend us, and then dragged me and Jane to the village square. . . . They accused us of being witches and killed the boys maliciously. . . . We were tied to stakes to be burned alive.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Tears gathered in my eyes and my heart contracted painfully as I imagined the twins fighting against the villagers, terrified out of their minds and knowing that they were about to die. I fisted my hand in the soft material of his shirt as he kept speaking.

“Jane was screaming and kicking and fighting the men who were trying to tie her to the stake. The villagers were cursing at us and throwing stones at us and holding torches that they were ready to throw down to start our pyre. I was limp, letting them do whatever they wanted. I just kept praying that all the pain and grief I was feeling would simply go away.”

Hesitantly, I looked up at Alec. His face had twisted into a painful expression and his crimson eyes were glassy, as if he was holding back tears.

“I remember . . . I remember watching the fire catch onto the dry wood and kindling piled beneath us. . . . I remember seeing Jane’s shoes burn off her feet. . . . I remember the way she screamed as the flames burned her skin, and then through her flesh. . . . I remember how foul the black smoke smelled and how it choked me as it surrounded me. . . . I finally went numb to everything at the end. I couldn’t breathe through the smoke anymore and my mind felt so slow and fuzzy. . . .

“That was when the Volturi found us. I thought I had died when I saw them. I thought they were demons, with their pale skin and red eyes. . . . I thought that they had been sent to drag me down to hell for having powers that I didn’t understand and couldn’t even control. . . . It certainly felt like I was in hell when Aro bit me. . . . Jane and I burned for five days before we woke up in this life, and I remember every single second of it.”

I buried my face in the crook of his neck, my arms curling tight around his body as I sobbed. Alec’s description of his own murder was so detailed that I felt as if I could see what had happened to him in my mind.

Alec seemed to come back to reality a moment later. He wrapped his arms around me, gently holding me close to his chest. He rubbed my back slowly, whispering that everything was okay, that he was fine now, and that I didn’t have to worry about him.

“I’m so sorry,” I cried. “I’m so, so sorry, Alec.”

“Don’t apologize,” Alec said, gently yet firm. “Don’t ever apologize for them.”

“I’m not,” I mumbled. I sniffled. “I just . . . I wish that you didn’t have to go through any of that. You and Jane . . . you both deserved so much better.”

Alec pulled back just enough to lift my chin up so he could look into my red-rimmed eyes. He brushed away my tears as he said softly, “We have had better for centuries, my love. . . . And now that I have found you, I have everything that I’ve ever wanted.”

I blushed and Alec smiled. He rested his hand lightly on my cheek. I leaned into his gentle touch, even as his frozen skin sent a shiver through my body. Alec rubbed his thumb along my cheekbone as we stared into each other’s eyes. I tilted my head up and kissed him.

Our lips moved together slowly. I pressed closer to his body, moving to straddle his lap as my hands came up to card through his loose, dark curls. Alec kept his hand on my cheek, though his other arm wrapped around my waist and kept me pressed against his chest until we finally broke apart.

I took a deep breath, soothing my aching lungs that had been deprived of air for too long. Alec simply chuckled and shook his head at me. I rolled my eyes. He smirked and pressed feather-light kisses across my cheeks and nose as an apology.

“Your transformation is tomorrow,” Alec murmured quietly. He pressed another kiss to my cheek. “Are you nervous?”

“A little,” I admitted. “But I know that you’ll be there with me the whole time, and that makes me feel a little calmer.”

“Everything will be okay, sweet girl. I promise.”

[catharsistays]

Does anyone else think Sunagakure (Village Hidden in the Sand) could closely resemble Mesopotamian culture?

Im trying to make cultural links between the Naruto World and ours since im not finding a lot of canon exploration in customs or socialization of villages/countries.

Currently in the Naruto wiki, its referenced that Suna's buildings are most likely made up of Stucco. Which is an architectural technique used across a good bit of cultures but generally it was used in Egytian, Minoan and Etruscan architectural sculptures. BUT- besides maybeee Egypt, the geography doesnt quite fit.

Other cities that use/used Stucco were Iraq, Arabia, Afghanistan, Northern Pakistan and around Southern India. Which btw i think fits CLOSER to what we see of Suna in the anime. But im not sure if there was any place that was specifically quoted as the inspiration behind Suna's anthropolgy if there was any.

Im thinking perhaps Mesopotamian culture and locations could be used in reference to expand upon the finer details of Suna's culture and society cause i refuse to think of them as just 'Aggressive Sand Village' yknow?

Please feel free to mention any other aspects you think should be explored since i just got hyperfixated on the mention of a real world historical technique in the Naruto wiki. It was probably just a comparison the writer made but thats good enough for me.

[longlistshort]

For Hew Locke’s exhibition, Listening to the Land, at P.P.O.W. he has created intricate sculptures and paintings that are fascinating in person.

From the press release-

Locke is known for exploring the languages of colonial and post-colonial power, and the symbols through which different cultures assume and assert identity. Furthering the themes explored in his celebrated commission The Procession at Tate Britain, and his concurrent installation Gilt on the façade of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, this exhibit engages with contemporary and historical inequities while reflecting on the landscape and history of the Caribbean. The exhibition draws its title from a poem by Guyanese political activist and poet Martin Carter which situates itself between two opposing forces of the landscape – sea and forest. Locke’s show features new sculptures and wall works with recurring motifs of stilt-houses, boats, memento mori, and share certificates referencing tensions between the land, the sea, and economic power. Reflecting on these links, Locke notes, “The land was created to generate money for colonial power, now the sea wants it back.”

Translating to ‘land of many waters,’ Guyana and its physical, economic, and political landscape serve as one of the primary sources for Locke’s work. Having spent his childhood in this newly independent nation, the artist witnessed first-hand an era of radical transformation. Now, the country teeters on the precipice of an oil boom and is one of the world’s fastest growing economies. Juxtaposing personal meditations on the climate crisis with political commentary on the history of a globalized world, Locke contemplates the ways in which colonies were exploited to accumulate capital, and observes how Guyana’s economic future lies in the exploitation of its waters. Locke’s new boat sculptures The Relic and The Survivor embody this broad worldview as the two battered wrecks drift through time and history. Evoking the fragmented and diverse legacies of the global diaspora, the boats’ patchwork sails are interspersed with photo transfers of 19th Century cane cutters and banana boat loaders, while their decks are loaded with cargo that could allude to colonial plunder, trade goods or personal belongings.

Based on an abandoned plantation house, Locke’s newest sculpture Jumbie House 2 features layered images that unveil the spirits that haunt this colonial vestige. Presented alongside are a series of painted photographs of dilapidated vernacular architecture across Georgetown and rural Guyana. Constantly under threat of being washed away by storms or rising sea levels, these crumbling structures echo anxieties surrounding climate change and historical erasure. A new series of mixed media wall works, Raw Materials, is derived from antique share certificates and bonds. Locke richly decorates the appliques with acrylic, beads, and patchwork to draw attention to the complex ways in which the past shapes the present. The image of an 1898 Chinese Imperial Gold Loan behind painted Congolese figures connects the global economy at the height of Empire to current Sino-African trade networks. In another work, a painted representation of a Nigerian Ife mask, alongside an image of David Livingstone, is layered on a French-African Mortgage Bond from 1923, connecting exploration and exploitation of African land, to current conversations surrounding the repatriation of artifacts. Taken together, the works in Locke’s Listening to the Land echo William Faulkner’s adage “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”

This exhibition closes 4/1/23.

The Procession, mentioned above, can now be seen at Baltic Centre for Contemporary Art, in Gateshead, England until June 11th, 2023.

Gilt, also mentioned above, is on view at The Metropolitan Museum of Art until May 30th, 2023.

[unit2-ss24]

SS24 Trends

Green

Louis Vuitton

Louis Vuitton describes this collection as "Reflecting the progression from nautical to botanical, the silhouettes are adorned with silks and sequined embroidery, emulating scales and the movement of water. On dry land, prints flourish and lines become sculptural, while bags mark a post-modern tale, enveloped in the new Monogram Dune or in colorful variations of Épi leather". Although this collection does not consist of a large number of fully green outfits in the link shown below we see pops of the colour featured throughout.

Li, J. (2023). Louis Vuitton Resort 2024 Is an Ethereal Take on High Fashion Mermaidcore. [Online]. Hypebeast. Last Updated: 25 May 2023. Available at: https://hypebeast.com/2023/5/louis-vuitton-resort-2024-isola-bella-runway-collection [Accessed 11 December 2023].

Cucculelli Shaheen

The fashion brand Cucculelli Shaheen is said to have "Drew inspiration from the original “American Venus” who modeled for the iconic statue gracing the building’s pinnacle, the collection immerses itself in the interplay between the delicate aesthetics of the Beaux-Arts era and the dynamic pulse of the modern city. This season, the brand brings unexpected fusion where vintage allure met contemporary edge." As shown by the collection below a total of 8 looks featured the green colour palette.

Jessica. (2023). Cucculelli Shaheen S/S 2024. [Online]. Go Fug Yourself. Last Updated: 20 September 2023. Available at: https://www.gofugyourself.com/photos/cucculelli-shaheen-s-s-2024/cucculelli-s24-020-1695163933 [Accessed 11 December 2023].

Frederick Anderson

The collection is said to be "Visually split into three groups, the first leading with pastel hues of green and pink, offering the traditional daytime spring pieces the ready-to-wear couturier has become known for. Chartreuse hand-crochet tops and dresses are interspersed in this first phase of the show, offering a bold pop of color that nods at one of Anderson’s signature forms. At past shows, Anderson has graciously noted the popularity his work has garnered among classically dressed Upper East Siders drawn to his progressive take on traditional silhouettes. The SS24 collection follows that same balance, referencing a classic style while still remaining true to his dynamic design ethos." This shows the collection featured a number of green pieces further showing green was a present trend in ss24.

Fashion Network. (2023). Frederick Anderson - Women SS 2023 - New York. [Online]. Fashion Network. Last Updated: September 2023. Available at: https://se.fashionnetwork.com/videos/video/28773,Frederick-anderson-women-ss-2024-new-york.html [Accessed 11 December 2023].

[honeydroops]

Assignment: Sketchbook 0 

Tools: Procreate, iPad 

Desc: 3 figure drawing done by referencing European sculptures at the MET museum

Feedback:  I enjoyed exploring these new methods of quickly sketching figures. The method I’m most used to doing was the last methods of sketching out blocks for the frame, the others were still new to me. They helped me stopped worrying too much about drawing the details first and made me focus on getting the main shape of the person correct. Something I could improve on is that I might have still spent a little too long perfecting the shaping of some of the figures to be more “perfect,” although I do think the extra time I spent doing that helped me understand sketching proportions properly better.

Link to Ref: https://www.pinterest.com/honeydroops/00sketch/

[ryvint2]

Rebecca Warren

Best known for her 'ugly clay female models, Rebecca Warren is a multi-media artist whose experimented with an array from clay, bronze, steel, neon and even Pom poms to produce sculptures, dioramas and collages. In terms of the themes of bodies and identity, her works are a provocation of the female form that holds references to pop culture, films, songs and other artists . More than re-appropriation of womanhood, they are full of ideas, influences and references that are molded and filtered again and again. It’s a process that can be seen from the sculptures itself, the roughness, evidence of fingerprints and using the hand as a tool ‘a tension between doing and being done to - or channeling.' Essentially a culmination where the work becomes far more than the sum of their parts.

Rebecca Warren, Helmut Crumb 1998, reinforced clay on two stacked, painted MDF plinths, clay: 55.9 x 50.8 x 38.1 cm

One of her earliest work 'Helmet Crumb', is a clay recreation of 'Girls, Girls, Girls' by Robert Crumb with references to Helmut Newton, a well known Vogue photographer for his pushing provocative shots. The sculptures works as it's own frame with how the smallest sculpture sits in the middle. Possibly playing with the idea of composition and perspective in photography. Newton especially has many shots of women in stockings and heels so the sculptures links the two male artist like an examination. The relationship between male artist and the female body, cartoon forms in a 3D space and that headspace to create such art.

-‘I was trying to occupy the space of the work of those male artists and see what that told me.’

-‘I put them together and something seemed to start working’

-‘When I was drawn to clay, I was also drawn to Crumb and his way of getting to his own desirable forms without worrying about disapproval. Cartoons boil everything down to essential curves’

On first impression of her art, it brought to mind how women are often reduced to certain body parts. Possibly examining the power women hold over men, what makes men obsessed with depicting them a certain way and bringing in different influences of male artists. The sculptures seemingly have more priorities placed on the breasts, thighs, bottom and heels that make out a hyper feminine impressions of a woman leaving an amalgamation of these parts.

‘enjoying their status as objects of the gaze and are ready to kick open the door and reveal Degas’ embarrassing erection. Her works are indecent and intimate, formal and grotesque.’ - Gregorio Magnani, art critic

While finding more about Warren, there was a change in my thinking. That I was not reading about a feminist with a heated message about the female body and male gaze - I was reading about an artist with deep thoughts of the craft. Rather than a forefront feminist message, Warren’s references are very broad in terms of womanhood and female artistry. An example being the title of her exhibition ‘All that Heaven allows’ referencing the 1950s film of the same name. One of the themes of the film exploring women that have urges that are not inline with societal expectations, especially that of the time period. Raising questions about how women were expected to behave, look and fall in love. The choice of title implies that Warren wants to break convention and makes art without being fenced in by expectations.

‘Warren’s endeavour is to make art that is entirely without gendered justification’ - Laura Smith.

‘You’ll find that I’m rarely included in exhibitions with other women and I’m often included with male artists who’ve done something I thought was quite interesting and liked.’ - Rebecca Warren

‘The need persists to follow each artistic endeavour as far as you can, in the knowledge that there is an upper limit to the amount that we can ever see or know, but within which we can still experience art as an infinitely strange and elusive enterprise.’ - Rebecca Warren

- Warren, R. Barlow, A. and Smith, L. (2017) Rebecca Warren: New and recent works. London: Tate St Ives ; Tate Publishing. P . (45, 47, 55, 59)

References

- Payton-Jones, J. (2009) Rebecca Warren. London, NY, NY: Serpentine Gallery : Koenig Books ; D.A.P. / Distributed Art Publishers distributor. P . (61, 63)

- Crumb, R. (1972) "Girls Girls Girls". [Ink over graphite on Bristol board]. XYZ Comics, Kitchen Sink.

- Warren, R. (1998) Helmut Crumb. [Clay]. Tate Gallery, London.

[applesandbannas747]

oh m a n this took me so long to find jsdkgfsa I stupidly did not save it to my drafts when I first saw it and thus shot myself in the foot. But I found it! and am forever in awe of you being interested in lore from my fics TT.TT <33

Seiji's clothes are obtained in a mix of ways:

When he traveled the world, he collected anything that caught his fancy, including already-made pieces (such as some of the more sculptural corsets), commissioning tailors and sewers whose work he was impressed with, and purchasing fabric to magic it into shit himself

He's essentially subscribed to a fashion box lmfao his measurements and aesthetic preferences are in a log with other witches' which ambitious sewers may reference in hopes of creating something that witch might like--or going through it looking for a witch that suits the design they want to make/have already made. Witches are fickle things though and though they'll pay handsomely for clothes they like, there's no guarantee that they'll like it. And of course the highest paying ones are also the most difficult--Seiji and Jesse won't review designs before seeing the garment on them themselves and deciding whether to keep it or not (which is where one would look for some other witch who would be easy to alter it for). It should be noted that Seiji has a specific 'delivery' room in his closet for new designs to be sent in by one of the moderators of the list, so bestie never leaves his house to try shit on. Seiji does have a fair number of pieces from this service--the more unique designs are always human-made, either from his travels or from commissions

Magic is the last way he gets his clothes, generally speaking. His house is set up to 'conjure' any material he might need, from oranges in the kitchen to fabric in his closet. This is essentially online shopping but without any middle bits. Open up the cupboard/drawer/whatever with the vision of what you're looking for, and you'll find it, plucked from any number of places around the world that subscribe to witchy fuckery, where shit disappears but money is left in its place (obviously, Seiji is Insanely wealthy to afford such fuckery without ever batting an eye. it's really his wealth that makes all the magic systems in his daily life seem infinite and absolute instead of a more moderated use of such portals that are kept careful track of). All this to say that Seiji can step into his closet with the idea of an outfit he wants, and conjure it up, pulling instantly and easily from any number of different shops for everything needed to make it. Creating straightforward things is easy, but the more elaborate you get, the stronger vision you need to have and the more specificities you need to know, which is why more elaborate and intricate and unique pieces come from people who craft clothes. Still, if he needs a long-sleeved black turtleneck with a boob window to tie together an outfit, magicking that up would be simple and easy

Bonus fun fact! Bobby is a sewer who designs for witches. He got his start using the logbook and gained some regular customers, which turned him into a shop taking commissions specifically instead of chasing down witches himself. He does well for himself, and Jesse has gotten several pieces from him himself

And I do in fact have a pinterest board of collected inspiration for Seiji's fashion, some of which are more heavily referenced than others. Some Jesse fashion snuck in there too, and because I hate pinterest, there's other shit there on accident too that were meant for other boards. i trust you to recognize the patterns to determine 'which ones do not belong' lmfao. anyway, here's a link

2. I say all this all the time but it's still true: the hardest part of writing Ribcage was being done with Nichoji's story--which is to say, not being able to write moments like this because we're not following Nick, and the details are irrelevant to the story we are following. That explained, I have not actually written the scene, and without having written it, I can't pinpoint exactly how things went, so I can't give a ton of detail on it at the moment either. What I currently imagine is that Seiji's parents would be very surprised, the dinner would be awkward as hell with some forced 'polite conversation' that lasts like three sentences total, and there'd be some (or,,, a lot) of worry from the Katayamas that Seiji's been pressured/threatened into things by Nick, which boils into Nick telling them off for sitting there assuming he's hurting Seiji when all they've done for the last ten years is make Seiji more scared and ruin a lot of lives to achieve it. Seiji gets Nick to calm down with a death grip on his thigh under the table and says that he actually feels like he's healing when he's with Nick, not just surviving. Not still running for his life. and dinner is finished as awkwardly as it started, but Nick's bade farewell with a sturdier handshake and a 'take care of Seiji' and a little less doubt.

Thanks so much for giving me an excuse to share useless lore 💜💜💜

Do you ever read a fic so interesting you want behind the scenes lore, ten pinterest moodboards and one of those fancy .gif edits but none of that exists bc it's a fanfic?

[degreeshow]

I can't think bricks without mentioning Carl Andre and Donald Judd. The founding fathers of minimalism. I agree that Carl’s displacement of sculpture from the plinth and onto the floor was revolutionary and …… shook the art world and challenged viewers ideas about art. However his life also raises the issue of whether you can separate art from the artist. His charge and acquittal for the murder of Ana Medietta is hugely problematic for me. More violence against, and murder of women that is displaced by rich, powerful men and prejudiced police forces.

In amongst the manufacture of the bricks, I was contemplating context.  It seems you can’t mention, intone or peak at a brick without the spectre of a Great White Male looming large. Minimalist artist Carl Andre, first brought bricks into the gallery in 1966, sculpture from the plinth and onto the floor, taking it horizontal rather than vertical. It was controversial and revolutionary. The constant referencing was proving problematic because his name should also be accompanied by the phrase ‘accused and acquitted murderer’ but rarely is.  In 1985 he was indeed accused and acquitted of killing his 3rd wife, the acclaimed artist, Ana Mendietta, pushing or throwing her from the 34th floor window of his New York apartment.  In the podcast mentioned below it highlights that she was something of a force of nature, quite fearless.... except for her fear of heights!  Finding out about Ana’s murder provided an unexpected link to the precarious nature of women’s lives, ever present in my practice. I am grateful for the opportunity to talk about her whenever the contextual links to Andre arise.

“We do not have time. We women. We don’t have forever. Some of us don’t have another week or another day to take time for you to discuss whatever it is that will enable you to go out into those streets and do something. We are very close to death. All women are. And we are very close to rape and we are very close to beating. And we are inside a system of humiliation from which there is no escape for us” (Dworkin 1983, cited in, MITPress, 2019).

Excellent podcast by Helen Molesworth