#the creation king

[karoubrugarou]

I know that I had posted him a while back, but I wanted to enhance his recent design and fix a few errors from his traditional pic.

Diego Koopa, The Creativity King.

A harmless koopa who loves to create and Imagine things. His weapon of choice is the "Scepter of Imagination" that was made from a rare star that fell into earth. With it, Diego was able to bring his creation into reality. He was able to protect his kingdom from destruction. His generosity got the attention of Airo the Swift. He had alerted Gongo of the Creativity King of his generosity to his entire kingdom. Gongo and Airo had chosen Diego as the Keeper of Creation.

Diego Koopa © Franchesca Huerta aka Chibi Brugarou

Koopa species © Nintendo

[ask-cloverfield]

Even if this body decays?

[hamletthedane]

I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.

[mushtoons]

sorry this interaction wouldn't leave us alone

[kate-bridgerton]

Period Drama Appreciation Week 2024 || Day 3 - Favorite Costumes in The Woman King

[juniemunie]

[Abandoned by the Lightners, his heart became cracked with hatred.]

Hitting a lil' too close to home?

[driftwooddestiel]

im still riding the high of that episode tbh . have some gifs

[dailybridgerton]

(YOUNG) QUEEN CHARLOTTE and (YOUNG) KING GEORGE QUEEN CHARLOTTE: A BRIDGERTON STORY — 1x06: “Crown Jewels” (2023)

[sunday-ruby]

THE CHURCH ON RUBY ROAD | THE LEGEND OF RUBY SUNDAY

[queenlucythevaliant]

clean your sword

i. Peter had thought many times about dying for his brother, killing for his sisters, as all oldest children do.

ii. He'd imagined it a hundred times: how if his mother and father were ever killed, he'd get some low-skill job and make sure Lucy's clothes still fit her as she grew. How he'd make fists and fight dirty if Susan was ever threatened. What he'd do if Edmund ever had to flee the country on a dark, windswept night.

iii. Yet when he heard Susan's horn that day, he still froze. Only for an instant, he thought, "this can't be my job, right?"

iv. The blood on his sword shone red when it was all over. When he wiped it on the grass, the stain it left was almost black.

v. They'd put Susan in his arms when he was two years old. Peter didn't remember it, but he knew he'd been waiting for her till then. He wasn't a real person until he was a brother.

vi. And when they walked back to the pavilion, Rhindon bumping Peter's hip, all he could say to his sisters was, "I'm sorry I didn't come faster."

vii. The High King was almost obsessive in the way he cared for Rhindon. When he grew older and required weapons larger than those made for a child, he obsessed over them too.

viii. He told the others, in no uncertain terms, that if it ever came to it in battle, they were to leave him and live. As their brother and high king, he commanded it.

ix. The first time Edmund risked himself for Peter's sake, Peter didn't speak to him for a week.

x. He was oiling his sword when Edmund found him. "See, the thing is, Peter, being brothers goes both ways. If you can love me enough to die for me, than I get to love you just the same."

xi. Peter agreed with him then, to avoid the argument. He was sick of not talking to his brother. Yet privately, he knew that Edmund was wrong. That sacrifice was Peter's special prerogative, as the first-born.

xii. Back in England, his mother noticed that Peter had become more fastidious. She didn't notice that his protective streak has grown - and maybe it hadn't, really.

xiii. It was uncanny, how Peter would always show up just when his siblings needed him. He'd round a corner, and there was Lucy stamping her feet and scowling at a bully. There was Susan, crying, and now his knuckles were bloody.

xiv. He cleaned the blood off in the sink so carefully. The water ran red for a second, and it almost seemed black.

xv. When Caspian asked for the High King's advice, looking so very young, Peter jerked his chin towards the sword a Caspian's hip. "Be ready to use that," he said. "Keep it clean, and close."

xvi. Susan forgot Narnia and she forgot Aslan. Yet selfishly, Peter still hoped that she would never forget how quickly he came when she called.

[banghwa]

I DON'T CARE IF IT HURTS, I WANNA HAVE CONTROL

BRUCE WAYNE & SELINA KYLE x CREEP by RADIOHEAD

[yeonjune]

YEONJUN ✙ VOGUE Korea for Moncler — Announcing Yeonjun as Moncler’s global brand ambassador.

[d3rpydoods]

SHE’S ALIVEEEE

[candyheartedchy]

Silly little doodles of a silly little king (featuring my sona).

[lizzy-bennet]

The Little Mermaid (2023)

[the-sslimmest-shady]

THIS IS A MESSAGE TO THE MALEVOLENT FANDOM: WHY DOES YOUR GUY LOOK LIKE JON FROM THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES. I CANT KEEP MALEVOLENT OFF MY DASH BECAUSE I KEEP ACCIDENTALLY INTERACTING WITH MALEVOLENT FANART THINKING ITS JONATHAN SIMS. I DONT KNOW WHAT MALEVOLENT IS. I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT IT. I DONT WANT TO. THE FANART IVE SEEN IS BEAUTIFUL SO PROPS TO YOU FOR THAT BUT IM JUST VERY CONFUSED. IS THERE SOME KIND OF FANDOM OVERLAP?? IDK HIS NAME BUT HE LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE JON. SLIGHTLY DARK SKINNED DUDE WITH MESSY MID-LENGTH HAIR AND A LOOK OF FEAR IN HIS EYES. YOU KNOW THE ONE. WHO IS HE