#my job my art life

[beyourselfchulanmaria]

👆 (sold) 工作之進度 progress of the work and

作品的細節 Details of the work (not finish) 👇

(sold) New /fine craft leather work - 王承前神父日課皮藝封套 by artist Chu Lan/Taiwanese (Not finish)

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[allysketches]

organizing my art folder I found this one drawing sitting there for months bc I didn't like how it turned out and meant to come back to it later but never did lol

but on second thought I guess it looks fine so I might as well post it now 😅

also I've been pretty much MIA these past few months bc life (good and bad) and tbh it was nice, so I'll mostly stay that way, I think... pop back now and then, whenever I finish more drawings lol

[macadamiyam]

and i present to you, messy lesbians

[ash-and-starlight]

The world needs more Yue and Zuko friendship, I squeal just thinking abt the parallels. They deserve a life changing field trip together and if u have abt ideas I’m all ears 👀

Hiii anon this ask fermented in my inbox and in my brain for so long,, so take this??? Post canon yue lives/no war au arts?? Anyway aside from the Parallels and their political position & their duty before hoes grindset I think they could learn a lot from each other. With zuko learning the gift of patience & diplomacy from yue & Yue learning that allowing yourself to feel anger and speaking up can actually be Good.

anyway hypothetical life changing trip outcome: zuko takes an intro gender studies class and yue says fuck

(oh and also must not forget the crush on sokka)

[egophiliac]

*shaky thumbs up* I just finished ch5...... y-you were not kidding about it being a heavy one.....

:)

(how's that going so far, Mal)

[icantdothistodaybruh]

What a terribly dull ending this is.

[pixlokita]

A very glazed page 39

Previous - next - first

[karda]

gotta spell it out for him

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

happy pride month

[green-alien-turdz]

This is Cartman's tattoo artist calling obviously

[beyourselfchulanmaria]

(sold) New /fine craft leather work - 王承前神父日課皮藝封套 by artist Chu Lan/Taiwanese (Not finish)

作品進度 Work progress~

等顏色乾透之後，再上第二道色彩和第一部分的油染，還有其他的雕刻部份工作待完成。(After the color dries, apply the second coat of color and the first part of the oil dying, There are other engraving work to be completed.) wait and see. hehe! xoxo Lan~*

[prahacat]

when the horrors catch up and you take an evening off to batch-process

[viarayy01-blog]

just waiting for it all to get better!!!!

[kugisakiss]

as promised, the spy x fam parody AU

I had some fun thinking about this like 2 years ago and only made a couple of sketches at the time.. but then I started cleaning them up last month and before I knew it, it spiraled out of control to become this monstrosity. I can't help it, as you can all tell by now, I love coming up with scenarios to get all my little guys interacting with each other

some details i didn't put in:

the Kudou parents are absent like in the show

whatever is happening on Haibara's end is probably super messed up but I haven't thought of any of the details

Akai gets fancy tech stuff, like the voice changer, from Agasa. Agasa comes to help babysit Conan sometimes and he gives him all his little gadgets. Akai hasn't said anything about it but figures he could use it considering the amount of crime he comes across

the facility shinichi was in is like in the original story, it exists to research esp to create super soldiers which is why he knows everything he knows

Conan regularly eavesdrops on Akai and Rei's top secret phone calls which is how he learns their real names. He can't help it, he has really good hearing

Conan and Subaru have different last names because Conan thinks "Okiya" is lame and wants to keep the one he made up on the spot. Their story is that when Subaru and Conan's mother (Edogawa Fumiyo) married, they both kept their own last names and Conan was given Edogawa when he was born. They've kept it this way to "remember Conan's dead mother"

[angelbitezzz]

[It was becoming increasingly clear that he wasn't her Sans. He sure looked like him but-this was different. HE was different. Sure, maybe affection hadn't been his forté, maybe his sense of humor was darker than what was generally acceptable, maybe he'd always been cagey and distant but...not something like this, never this. Nobody ever wanted to find out they had been dating a murderer.

"aaaaangel."

The soft sing-song of her name usually made her perk up. All it did now was send a bucket of ice water down her spine. There was something so utterly terrifying about knowing that you're a hairsbreadth away from death. She presses her hands harder over her mouth, squeezing further back against the counter, silently willing him to keep walking...

"tell you what, kid," Sans starts, too close. She suppresses a flinch as she hears him lean against the counter. "you're being pretty damn stubborn about this. but i do like you...so tell ya what! you make it to dawn without getting caught, i'll take the hint and leave you be. how's that sound?"

She doesn't reply, but he takes it as a yes anyways. He always liked doing that.]

Reposting this as a GIF!! It really ups the intensity, doesn't it?