#scupltor

[scotianostra]

April 22nd 2005 saw the death of the sculptor and artist Eduardo Paolozzi

Paolozzi’s Italian parents ran a small ice cream parlour in Leith, in June 1940, when Italy declared war Eduardo was interned (along with most other Italian men in Britain).During Eduardo’s three-month internment at Saughton prison his father, grandfather and uncle, who had also been detained, were among the 446 Italians who drowned when the ship carrying them to Canada, the Arandora Star, was sunk by a German U-boat.

There is little online about his internment and you wouldn’t have condemned him if he decided to leave Scotland after his release, the words of a Proclaimer’s song always springs to mind when I read about Eduardo Paolozzi, and other Scots=Italians:

Joseph D'Angelo dreams of the days

When Italian kids in the Grassmarket played

We burned out his shop when the boys went to war

But auld Joe's a big man and he forgave all

By the time Eduardo was released it was 1943 and he began attending Edinburgh College of Art before moving to London and feigned madness to secure his release from army duties in order that he could study sculpture at the Slade School of Fine Art from 1944 to 1947.

Paolozzi is widely considered to be one of the first Pop artists and created many collages including the famous ‘I was a rich man’s plaything’ in 1947, which was the first artwork to feature the word ‘Pop’ in it.

After a spell in Paris he returned to London and moved into a studio in Chelsea and by the 1950s was establishing himself as a surrealist artist through a series of screen-prints, pioneering the technique in which each print can have a separate colourway, predating Warhol’s famous prints of the same nature by four years.

In 1968 Paolozzi taught sculpture and ceramics at the University of California, Berkeley. He worked in Berlin from 1974, and was Professor at the Fachhochschule in Cologne from 1977 to 1981. He also later taught at the Akademie der Bildenden Künste in Munich.

Paolozzi might have spent many years away from his home town of Edinburgh but didn’t forget it, he donated a great deal of work to the Scottish National Gallery, who have since displayed a reconstruction of his studio and a large body of his work in the Dean Gallery.

If you have wandered around Edinburgh and visited St Mary’s Catholic Cathedral you will have come across Eduardo Paolozzi statues, “Manuscript of Monte Cassino” which comprises a giant foot and matching hand and ankle. The work was a gift to the city by entrepreneur Tom Farmer, the work is found outside St Mary’s RC Cathedral, I like how the area there has three pieces of art, on the left at Picardy Place you can enjoy a statue of Sherlock Holmes, and on the right you have two giant Giraffes outside the Omni Centre made of scrap metal.

Eduardo Paolozzi suffered a serious stroke in 2001 and he died in a hospital in London in April 2005.

The pics I have chosn are all held by The National Gallery of Scotland, if you like his work you will find loads of it on their website, over 12 hundred are tagged in his name. https://www.nationalgalleries.org/search?search=eduardo%20paolozzi

[shininglightofthehorizon]

The Sarbari Roy Chowdhury Festival of Music 2024: A Tribute by Various Musicians on his 91st Birth Anniversary

Sarbari Roy Chowdhury, the great sculptor whose works married the academic sensibility and realism of classical eastern or oriental art forms , with the modern abstraction and cubism of the west, whose interest in classical music poured directly into his works, as if the stone, clay or wood are entangled with the frequencies of music, not just as a idea or thought but supra-physically in a deeper…

[a-s-levynn]

remember the modeling clay i've been mentioning? now he needs a day or so to dry out so he can be lathered in paint

just to give some context why he isn't that detailed (the paint will help with that hopefully), he's a smol boi

[onceuponaladye]

Tonight’s mood: looking at sculptures that defy all manners of physics instead of going to bed as per usual

[tatzelwyrm]

Thinking about the moment Isshin nicknames Wolf "Sekiro".

Isshin knows about Wolf. He's the one who sent Emma to help Wolf, and he would know Wolf's name because he's been talking to Kuro and we know Kuro will not shut up about his beloved shinobi if given the chance.

Isshin would also have instantly recognized the Scupltor's prosthesis, Sekijo's prosthesis.

He sees this and he does not hesitate. He has made this joke before.

The name comes to him instantly and he is immediately like "What a golden opportunity for Isshin, the Saint of Comedy, the funniest man in Ashina!"

[elderscrollsconceptart]

When you were feasting, I studied the blade.

When you were having premarital sex, I mastered the mysteries of Aetherius.

While you wasted your days at the face scupltor in pursuit of vanity, I cultivated inner strength.

And now that Tamriel is burning and the Daedra pour through their gates you have the audacity to come to me for help?

[thewritersaddictions]

Day Nine: Leon S. Kennedy (DI) + Orgasm Denial

The State of the Union is tonight, and President Graham has invited Leon. That said, the invite also allowed Leon to plus one someone. Of course, he picks his darling wife.

Of course, since you are going to meet the president, Leon sets out a few rules for you. "Remember sweetheart I need you to not be a brat tonight." "What I'm never a brat!" You preatically scream. Theres a look that Leon ends up giving you when you finally open your eyes.

It says. 'Careful with what you say next honey'. You shrink down into the seat. "I'm asking you to listen to me and stay by my side tonight. I don't want to have to go looking for you." Leon says, it's not many rules.

One: stay by leon's side all night long

Two: Don't embrass him or yourself in front of any of the goverment officals.

Three: You aren't allowed more then three drinks, because Leon knows how you get. You're a little bit of a lite weight when it comes to liquer.

The second you get to the gala it's hard not to stray away from Leons side. Where the event is being held is not the white house, but in some musuem where the scupltors are glowing in LED lights and have you wishing that you could go read about them.

You're introduced to so many people by the end of the first hour your cheeks hurt from smiling, and you're already on your second glass of champange.

"Slow down sweetheart." Leon warns you, but you know the rules. You get one more drink, and that's it. So if you know the rules then why are your arms pinned above your head with Leon hovering over you.

Dress discarded onto the floor. Leons eyes are dark as he plays with your harden nipples. Your legs are strapped to the bed posts on each side, and your cunt is exposed to the cold apartment air around you.

You're soaking the fabric beneath you, but Leon seems not to care. his grip on your hand had been strong enough to leave the imprint of his wedding band into your own fingers.

You hadn't meant to be so clusmy but all of the sudden your dress was under your feet, and your were tumbling into the president of the united states. Your had apoligesd profusely, and he had accpetted without anger or anything else behind his soft smile as he helped you up from the floor, but then there was Leon. A curt smile on his face as he ushered the both of you out of the event, and back home.

His hips thurst with a constant flow. He's just barely reaching the spot that you want him. Pratically mewling at him to fuck you harder. When Leon pulls out complete. Leaving you a withering mess underneath him.

"Please Leon!!" You beg him. "I wanna cum please let me cum!" You beg again and again and again. Tears are rolling down your face as you realize that this is your punishment for making a fool of yourself at the event.

"I told you sweetness that you needed to be good. Not being brat also included not acting like a fool around the fucking president." He says as he thrust back into your tight, wet cunt. The sounds of your wet cunt bounce around the walls around you as your orgams reaches you once again.

Your legs start to shake, your breathing starts to get harder and more shallow. Bitting your bottom lip to hold back your moans earns you a tight hold around your neck and your eyes snap open to look at your handsome husband.

"Don't you dare hold back your moans for me baby girl. I'm the only one here that gets to hold anything back tonight." He says through a grunt and again slips out of your cunt

Slapping his hard cock agasint your sensitive clit. "I get to tell youwhen you can cum all over my cock baby. So you can keep begging all you want but it won't matter. You aren't cumming til I'm satiisfed that you've learned your lesson." He grunts as he slips back into your warm walls.

Completed on: 09/13/24

Posted on: 10/09/24

[orlissa]

I just want you to know that there is a Hungarian scupltor, Mihály Kolodko, who places miniature “guerilla” sculptures all aound Budapest, and he just made a new one in celebration of Garfield’s 45th birthday

[taffy-yippee]

MC clay sheep hehehehhehehehe I amn scupltor

(Will post the painted version when the clay dries 👍👍👍)

[espanquer]

Frirz Morgenthaler (1919-1984) posing in 1930s for scupltor Karl Géiser (1898-1957)

[fatalflawsy]

Small Sketches of Ranger and new oc Alnasl!

Decided to try out a slight redesign on Ranger

I have no clear idea what Alnasl’s uniform would look like yet so I’m dropping there’s here.

Anyways I have small facts about Ranger and Alnasl:

- Ranger loves annoying the shit outta Alnasl because of his Boy Scout attitude calling him “Al” pushes his buttons a lot so he does it constantly.

- Alnasl has shitty time management because most of his time is spent either hunting for the colony or making sure Ranger doesn’t somehow fuck shit up while he’s gone or annoy the wrong people (cough Scupltor, Shepard, Ecliptica cough) unintentionally or otherwise

- Both are 19 but Ranger is definitely older

- As much as Ranger dislikes Al getting in his way, he does respect the guy and is his only friend

- Alnasl has the same level of respect towards Ranger and even with his attitude is willing to bend some rules to get him out of trouble.

- Ranger’s jacket came from a hunt he went on, and the jacket was a lovely souvenir

Marble Sky Comic by @somerandomdudelmao

[the11tailed]

[Recorder Click]

THE ARCHIVIST: You promised, Sculptor.

THE SCULPTOR: I did, so fine, my dear Archivist, my story.

THE ARCHIVIST: Hold on, let me do my thing.

Statement of The Sculptor regarding how they became. Statement taken directly from subject the second day of the fifth month, 3415. Statement begins:

THE SCUPLTOR: I don’t remember my parents. Not their faces, their names or what they sounded like, but I did know that I loved them very much. I wanted to do well in school, to make them proud of me. I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was in middle school. I was lucky my parents were so willing to take steps necessary to help me. I went to the college nearby to study computer programming. Hated every minute of it. Stuck with it, though, finished, got my degree and immediately went to an Art College near me. Once I got my BFA, Bachelors in the Fine Arts, I managed to land a sculpting gig at a statue garden.

The guy who ran it was simply called Clay. I always thought that was funny. His name was Clay and he worked with clay.

[The Sculptor sighs]

I worked there for almost two years. I would later learn that that was the same amount of time people had been going missing in the nearby towns. I never really thought too hard about how…lifelike Clay made those statues. I just thought he was really good.

One day, he said we were going on a road trip, for inspiration. We loaded into a van with our tools. I asked about the clay. He said there was some at the place we were going.

We drove for almost three hours. Then he pulled into a clean-looking and well-managed house with pristine green lawns and a tall white fence.

We were buzzed in without fanfare. Clay turned the van into the driveway, parked and got out. I followed, confused and uncertain. I grabbed my tools and followed him inside.

He opened the door without being allowed in.

The first thing I noticed was the man sat in the armchair. He was old and frail, and he stared off into the garden without a word.

Clay walked over to him and crouched down, whispering something into his ear.

The old man rose up and walked to the center of the room, standing so still in made my hair stand on end. Clay gestured me forward and I walked.

He showed me how to…push away the folds of skin, how to push it back, smooth it. It was so easy and so…fun. I helped him shape and change that old man until a man that couldn’t be older than 20 stood in his place.

He smiled big and wide, and a chill went down my spine. He thanked Clay for his help and turned to me.

“A fine apprentice you have, he praised,”

As we left, he asked me if I liked it. I said yes and that I wanted more. He smiled in the same uncanny way that that old man had.

He taught me more and more. It was fun at first, shaping flesh like clay, molding them to look how I wanted, but it grew dull. I hated just working with human flesh. I wanted more.

I asked Clay.

He asked me what I wanted to do.

I asked him if I could make the next one as un-human like as I could.

He told me he would have to get an unwilling one. The willing always wanted to look a certain way.

He asked if I had a gender preference. I said male. Male creatures of the animal kingdom are far more colorful than their female counterparts.

The man he brought was young, maybe 19-20 years old. He showed him to me in the back of a car. The boy’s wrists were duct taped behind him and there was a cloth gag in his mouth. He looked scared and for some reason, that made me smile. When his fear seemed to deepen, I knew that I now bore the same smiles of my mentor.

We brought him to the study and stood him in the middle of the room. Clay sat to watch as I worked.

I removed the tape and the gag and looked him over. The clothes had to go, but I let him keep his underwear. I never liked the look of dicks. They looked like diseased worms.

He was so scared as I began to work. I first broke all the bones of his feet. I wanted to see what a human would look like with digitigrade. It took some work and using the foot of a dog to finally get it right. Had to start over a few times. Once I got the hang of it, the other foot was easy.

Once that was done, I added fur. All the way to the knee. If he could have screamed, I knew he would have. I did his fingers next. I bent the bone, tore out his nails and replaced them. I think he was crying at that point, but I was too focused on my work.

I wanted to turn him into a sort of werewolf. Just to see if I could. I did, too. Wasn’t as great as some of my newer works, but it was good for my first attempt.

Clay was so fucking proud of me.

It was too.

Then Clay had to leave, his mentor called him away to some unknown island that has never and will never exist.

The ritual failed, my mentor killed himself for the failure, but I was still hear.

My god screamed a lamented its failure. I whispered a promise to bring it more madness, so it would heal.

I kidnapped over a hundred people in my lifetime. I turned them into monstrosities beyond human comprehension and I kept them alive and conscious in Clay-no my garden. I drove them insane until the only being they served was mine. I used them to keep people out of my garden.

And then…I was killed by a hunter. Not the best way to go, I’m afraid. I melted into clay. I was nothing. Then my little Glyptikí came to me. She brought me back, and with me, some of my humanity. The Spiral let me keep some memories, the Traveler shieled me somewhat from The Spiral. I like it that way. Glyptikí and I traveled for a while before we met you and Hunter. Everything else we’ve done together, so there isn’t much to add.

THE ARCHIVIST: Yes, thank you for the statement, Sculptor.

THE SCULPTOR: Anytime, old friend.

THE ARCHIVIST: Statement ends.

[Recorder clicks]

||

Little something from my d2/TMA fusion au

[notforthebin]

JANET MULLARNEY

Scupltor/ visual artist - really interested in the figures she produces and their simplicity - marking note to come back to and look into artist****

[bts-hyperfixation]

I jist opened your link to the "best image in existance" and you are SO RIGHT! THE BEST IMAGE! IT'S PERFECT! ALL PAINTERS, SCUPLTORS ARTISTS GO HOME, PERFECTION HAS BEEN ACHIEVED AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE BETTER THAN THAT

I used to change that picture every couple of months but just that one hasn't been out done yet or the Jungkook might manage with his album. We have to wait and see 🤷🏼‍♀️

[johnvenus]

Awesome, painful but comforting fanfic written by my good friend @about-faces focusing on Gilda Dent: scupltor and wife of Harvey Dent/Two Face. An often neglected character and this fanfic dives deep into her character: her life, pain, loss and healing.

She had to do it. She had to… … she had to let him go.

Please please go read "Bust" by @about-faces. This fic was painfully good, comforting in ways I'm not certain I can describe and most of all, the most heartfelt tribute to an overlooked character anyone could ever write.