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Les sculptures de visages de porcelaine tordus de Johnson Tsang
Nouvel article publié sur https://www.2tout2rien.fr/les-sculptures-de-visages-de-porcelaine-tordus-de-johnson-tsang/
Les sculptures de visages de porcelaine tordus de Johnson Tsang
#argile#céramique#email#Johnson Tsang#porcelaine#sculpteur#Sculpture#surréaliste#tordu#torsion#visage#art
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tordu seems,,,a bit harsh but idk the vibe of that word in french
#not saying it's /incorrect/ to use for the doctor#just that it seems a bit more intense than weirdo fkjghjgkj#les tordus aux grands coeurs
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Photo montage done just for fun
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Clocher de Corbon depuis le Breuil – gouache, 31 janvier 2023.
#2023#arbre#arbre nu#arbre tordu#le breuil#corbon#clocher#perche#orne#normandie#horizon#gouache#paysage#paysage gouache#paysage gouache a3#cloture#paturage#hiver#winter#campagne#herbe#branches
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Je suis caisse au crémant ça me fait rire vas-y crackship Elias/Arthur
Quand je dis would read fic about it c'est en mode curiosité morbide hein
#kenshi's ask#mentalement ça passe pas du tout#genre y a rien de mal#mais ça me met quand meme inconfortable ???#le fais que elias ken surement le pere adoptifs d'arthur aide vraiment pas aussi#ask game#l'anon c'est soit feels soit yvain j'en suis convaincu#y a que eux pour etre aussi tordu
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PATRIMOINE | Clochers tors d'Anjou : tordus, flammés, vrillés, attirant curieux et spécialistes ➽ https://bit.ly/Clochers-Tors-Anjou 130 clochers tors ont été recensés en Europe, dont plus de la moitié en France. Mais une balade dans le Baugeois permet déjà d'avoir un bon aperçu de ces étonnants chefs-d’œuvre
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si deux mecs étaient sur la lune et l'un tuait l'autre avec un rocher est-ce que ce serait totalement déglingax ou quoi
#samtxt#en cherchant les traductions acceptables de fucked up je tombe sur 'tordu' j'avais oublié cette dinguerie#si deux mecs étaient sur la lune et l'un tuait l'autre avec un rocher est-ce que ce serait pas une MASTERCLASSE finalement
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Francis André aka Gueule Tordue, Twisted Face and Crooked Mouth: Klaus Barbie's most loyal collaborator.
Francis André (Musée de la Résistance Nationale) Much has been written about Hauptsturmfuhrer Klaus Barbie, the head of the Gestapo in Lyon who became known as the “Butcher of Lyon” after personally torturing men, women and children, but little as been written about Francis André. Francis André was born in Lyon on 25 February 1909. At school he gained a reputation for intimidating other…
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#Alan Malcher Historian#Crooked Mouth#Francis André#Gestapo#Gueule Tordue#Klause Barbie#Resistance#Twisted Face
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Je faisais du rangement dans la cave et dans les affaires de mon père, au milieu de ses livres de psychologue, je suis tombé sur un DVD.
Salò. Oui. Salò ou les 120 journées de Sodome ou le film maudit par Satan lui-même.
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you are in love !!!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which he finally realises that she's the one he has loved all along.
or
for when you realise that it's always been them. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
real life // charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings - language, car crash (not detailed), mention of someone being high (not relevant to the story)
author's note - hello!!! i really hope you like this, i enjoyed writing this so much, charles' pov was definitely interesting. i hope you like this <3 i love you, thank you for reading.
≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱
the first time charles leclerc thought he was in love, he didn't even know what love was. which, of course, made sense, considering he was seven years old.
he just knew that it was when two people really liked each other.
coincidentally, he also knew he liked the girl that sat next to him in class, the one who was always colouring in pretty flowers or leaves or clouds. he liked having her around.
she was sweet, she didn't talk much which was okay seeing he also didn't, she brought pretty colours to school everyday and she shared them with charles.
so yeah, it was natural that he liked her.
and because he liked her, he noticed that she liked flowers.
everyday, without fail, she would walk into the class with a pretty flower tucked in her hair, sometimes in her pocket or sometimes in her hand.
and on days where charles just wasn't in the best mood, the flower became his. it just sat on his desk, the bright colour a striking contrast against the plain desks that brightened up his mood, had him telling everyone that she ("my best friend, y/n,") got him ("she got me, me, a flower,") a flower ("it's my favourite flowers now, the most favourite!"). it was what made it all worth it, for a seven year old kid, at least.
sure, just the sight of it was enough to make charles smile for the rest of the day.
but the thought that y/n got it for him was enough to make him happy for this lifetime.
≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱
the second time he thought he was in love with his best friend, he almost lost an eye.
that was a bit dramatic but to be fair, her high heel did come quite close to his eye and in her defense, he shouldn't have ruined her date.
"i cannot believe you, charles marc hervé perceval leclerc!" y/n exclaimed as she picked up her one black high heel from the floor and moved towards the living room, charles following after her like a scolded puppy, the rest of his family following him. "like — what was the reason?"
"y/n — " charles opened his mouth to explain but shut it, seeing her and noting that she was ready to throw her other shoe at him. he looked at his mom for help, his eyes pleading for her to intervene but pascale just shook her head, looking at him with a disapproving look.
"tu es incroyable," y/n muttered, glaring at him as she flopped down on the couch, inhaling sharply, "can you believe him, maman?" ( you are unbelievable // mom )
"charles," pascale started in a resigned tone, sitting down next to y/n and putting a reassuring arm around the girl she considered her daughter, "pourquoi ferais-tu ça?" ( why would you do that? )
"je ne savais même pas qu'elle serait là!" charles exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. "and please, the date was not ruined. not until you saw me in the back and threw a fit over it." ( i didn't even know she would be there )
arthur stifled a laugh, getting a warning look from charles, pascale and y/n. he cleared his throat, and pointed back at his brother.
"you're mad at him, not me," he said, shuffling away from the group only to be stopped by lorenzo who gave him a look and pushed him to sit on the armchair., making him groan. "i hate every second of this."
"you were wearing a fake moustache and a wig!" y/n yelled at him, moving to stand up but pascale held her back, rubbing her back soothingly. "et je me suis tordu la cheville à cause de toi!" ( and i twisted my ankle because of you )
"that was your own doing," charles pointed at her, though he could feel like heart twisting with guilt. he honestly did not mean for that to happen. collateral damage, he guessed. at least she wouldn't go on another date with what's-his-name again anytime soon.
"how did that even happen?" arthur asked, looking between his brother and y/n, equally amused and confused.
"she chased him out of the restaurant and ended up falling on the sidewalk," lorenzo explained, his expression mirroring arthur's. "it was certainly a sight to see."
"je vous déteste tous les trois," y/n mumbled, looking at pascale with a defeated look on her face. "puis-je avoir une de vos robes d'été? celui ci est déchiré?" (can i have one of your sundresses? this one's torn )
"of course, ange," pascale smiled, standing up and pulling her out of the room with her, not before throwing a stern look in charles' direction. ( angel )
the room was very silent after they both left, leaving the leclerc brothers alone. it was all silent, perfectly quiet for a minute before arthur burst out laughing and lorenzo followed after him, their laughter echoing.
"i hate you," charles rolled his eyes, falling down on the couch and leaning his head back. "none of this is funny."
"it's a little bit funny," lorenzo replied, still chuckling as he sat on one of the empty armchairs around the coffee table.
"not for you, of course," arthur added, wiping his eyes as his body shook for laughter, "for us, it's hilarious."
"va te faire foutre," charles muttered, narrowing his eyes at his siblings. "how am i ever supposed to come back from this?" ( fuck you )
"well, for one, you can start with telling her that you're sorry," lorenzo started, looking up at the ceiling, "for crashing her date and for letting your jealousy ruin her night. that'd work."
"yeah — what?" charles asked, his face scrunched up in confusion as he looked at lorenzo. "why would i have been jealous? and please, the night was already ruined way before i got there. i did her a favour, getting her out of there."
"and breaking her ankle in the process."
"shut up."
"so, you weren't jealous about the fact that she was on a date? not with you? with someone who was not you? with someone else? with someone whose name was not — "
"i know what going on a date with not-me includes, thank you," charles snapped, glaring at nothing in particular as his mind raced with the possibilities.
why had he crashed her date? it wasn't as if she hadn't gone on dates before, she had. of course, she had.
but that's all they were, just dates to her. dinner, small talk, a few jokes and then back at home, she'd be laying next to charles, telling him all the things she hated about her date. his one guy couldn't stop talking about his yacht, this one thought having a mercedes automatically got you a girlfriend, this girl was high the entire time, this dude was the captain of the football team and that's was his entire personality.
and that's how charles knew, knew that those dates meant nothing to her. they were just dates. those people weren't laying next to her, hearing her talk about stars and how much she wanted to travel, how do flowers grow from pollen. they didn't know that she liked to fiddle with her rings when she was nervous or the fact that she had a small scar right above her lips. they didn't know that she loved it when people complimented her but she never knew how to respond, always opting for a 'thanks! you too! haha!' they didn't know any of that.
but he did.
he had assumed that this date was just another of those dates and by eleven, they'd be talking shit about that dude while eating chocolate and watching a trashy romcom. that was their routine, that was their thing. it was theirs. just theirs.
but then he noticed the way she talked about that guy, the way he had helped her with their psychology project, the way he had asked if she wanted to grab coffee around the weekend. he noticed the way she was actually looking forward to this.
it wasn't as if she wasn't excited for her past dates, she was but this time, it was different.
this time it looked like she really wanted to go on that date and for the first time, charles was afraid that she wouldn't be by his side at eleven, talking shit about that dude while eating chocolate and watching a trashy romcom.
and suddenly, time had stopped for him and it was almost comical, just like the movies, the way his mind became a mess, clusters of all the things they did, shared laughs, holding hands while walking on the pier, holding the other person close, leaning against each other, making flower crowns, saying 'i love you' out of the blue and on top of this mess, his mind just went 'y/n! y/n! y/n!' and that was it.
the next thing charles knew, he was dodging his best friend's high heel.
"there are other ways to tell her that you like her," arthur's voice brought charles back to their living room, his heart racing as his closed his eyes, a soft 'fuck' leaving his mouth. "start with not wearing an obnoxious wig and a fake moustache."
"i — i don't like her," charles protested weakly, as if he was trying to convince himself. "she's my — she's my best friend."
"we know she is," lorenzo leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "but with the way you look at her, it's nothing short of love."
love.
that word made him feel like a bucket of ice cold water had been thrown at him and it hit him like a block of ice, with the bucket.
do i love her? is it love? is it just like — likeness, whatever? it wasn't love? can it be love? will it ever be love? why isn't it love? i wish it could be love — oh.
oh.
≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱
the third time, the thought of being in love crossed his mind — not that it ever left him, it had just been mere hours since the high-heel-almost-lost-an-eye incident.
he was in since room, a random show playing on his laptop that laid open in front of him but he couldn't bring himself to pay any attention to it. he couldn't even bring himself to close it, his eyes glued to the time.
10:37
he hadn't seen her since their argument and he couldn't blame her for not wanting to see him, he had ruined her night after all. it just felt weird having her over at his house — which was her second home, but not with him.
charles sighed, pausing the show as his eyes locked in on the time at the bottom of the screen, making his frown deepen.
10:41
he thought about what his brothers had said, he thought really hard.
he liked y/n. of course, he did. she was his best friend, after all. but when it came to liking her romantically, charles wasn't sure where he stood.
it was no secret that y/n was beautiful, she was. but more than that, it was her nature, her personality, the way she made people feel at ease around her, comfortable. that's what drew people to her.
that's what drew him.
10:49
he could be himself around her, he could be charles.
he didn't have to pretend to be the boy that everyone saw on screen, the confident look that was etched on his face, the way he never seemed to back down.
he didn't have to keep the pretendence up while with her.
he could be loud, he could be vulnerable, he could let down his guard, he could ask for help, he could just let out all of his worries.
he could be at ease and he knew that this whole thing was a two way street.
that was them, y/n and charles.
best friends, even if it weirdly pained him to say it now.
10:55
he looked away from the screen, a sharp exhale leaving him as minutes trickled by and there was still no sign of y/n.
a small polaroid stuck to the wall opposite him caught his eye and as it registered in his mind what it was, a small smile stretched across his lips subconsciously.
to everyone, it was just a normal photo. just two people — could potentially be mistaken as a couple, side by side with beaming smiles on their faces. the girl was leaning her head on the boy's shoulder while the boy had his arm around her shoulders, pulling her even closer to him. that's all it was, just a normal photograph.
but to them, to y/n and charles, it was everything. they had known the exact situation, the exact circumstances in that photograph, what they had felt when it was taken and how it had felt.
charles had felt his heart skip multiple beats when y/n leaned her head on his shoulder, looking up at him for just a moment, as if to ask if it was okay — it was. he had felt the way her breath hitched as soon as he placed an arm around her shoulders, squeezing softly before pulling her even closer.
he had felt it.
he had felt the way none of them did anything to move away, even after the photo was taken and lorenzo exclaimed that it was beautiful ("i took it, of-fucking-course it's pretty.") they just stayed there, just for a moment too long before they moved away reluctantly.
11:02
charles snapped out of this trance, staring at the photograph as a knock resonated throughout the room and he had to stop himself to grinning.
he said nothing, choosing to stay silent as he quickly closed the laptop and laid down, his heat beating against his rib cage so fast that he could hear his heart beat in his ears.
it was silent for a moment and he wondered if he should tell her to come in, tell her that it was okay but before he could even get the first syllable out, the knob twisted and the sharp light of the hallway made its way into the dimly lit room.
the door closed quickly, a soft whisper of 'sorry' making its way towards him that had him smiling against his pillow. footsteps could be heard as walked towards the other side of the bed and quietly got in, choosing to maintain a small distance between charles and her.
no one said a thing, their soft breathing was the only sound in the room and for a moment, charles thought that she fell asleep or that she was still mad at him and wasn't going to talk.
he was about to turn around, sighing softly before he heard her move, the sound of the sheets rustling before she began to speak.
"this one was a complete asshole, like — i was about to..."
yeah, he could fall in love with her.
≡;- ꒰ °real life ꒱
the fourth time it happened, it had been during a race. well — whatever was left of it.
it was not the perfect weather and since five a.m., y/n had her phone open in front of her, looking through the hourly weather forecast.
"you know it's not gonna change, right?" charles had laughed at her from across the table. "why are you worrying? je vais bien, je reviendrai. ( i'll be okay, i'll be back )
"promets-moi?" y/n had asked, looking at him all serious, no hint of laughter or amusement in her eyes and charles sighed, knowing that she was worrying herself to death every single time he was out on the track, arthur was out on the track. ( promise me? )
he couldn't imagine what it was like on the other side of the radio, clinging to any sliver of hope, desperately waiting for anything, any response from the other side.
he couldn't imagine doing it regularly, having your whole world stop while silence continued to answer your pleas.
"je promets, ange." ( i promise, angel )
y/n had said nothing, moving towards his side of the table and hugging him, her head in the crook of his neck as she held onto him, not wanting to let go even for a second.
and when she eventually did, he reminded her, that he was going to come back to her, come back home and they were going to watch that damn movie they had been putting off for weeks now.
he would come back and they would go on with their lives until the next race weekend came and the cycle would repeat itself. but in that moment, they just had to get through that one race.
and then, it happened.
y/n wasn't even sure she was breathing. one moment she had been hearing charles' voice through the headphones and the next, a sickening crash of metal on metal and the screech and the noises and everything and then it was nothing.
just blank, just a void, just one whole minute of silence that seemed to last for an eternity.
in that one minute, y/n's world stopped.
the entire garage held its breath, voices asking charles to confirm that he was okay, that he was fine, that he was okay.
he had to be.
he was okay, he was okay, he was okay, he was okay, he was okay, he was okay, he was okay, he was okay, he was —
"i'm okay."
y/n could finally breath again. her lungs seemed to cave in on her as she took a deep breath and looked down, the floor become a mosaic as tears filled her eyes. she didn't hear people heaving a sigh of relief, she didn't hear one of the interns telling her to wait for him by the medical centre — seeing charles had always requested for her whenever he got hurt and at this point, everyone knew that as soon as something, god forbid, if something happened, y/n had to be at the medical centre.
she didn't remember the trip there, only registering carlos hugging her before she was off to where charles was and before she even knew it, he was in front of her and he was okay.
he was okay.
"hey, cheríe," charles smiled at her, a slight wince leaving him as he struggled to sit up in the bed and y/n was moving towards him immediately, helping him sit up straight. "have you been crying?"
y/n shook her head, sitting on the chair next to his bed and looking down, trying her harded to keep the tears at bag.
"hey, hey, hey," charles cupped her face, forcing her to look at him and y/n closed her eyes, tears finally slipping out and falling down her cheeks. "i promised, didn't i? i told you i would come back, to you. i always would."
"i was so scared," y/n admitted, her voice choked up as she let out a sob, the sound muffled against the back of her hand. "when you didn't reply, i was so — i didn't know what to — i — "
"mon amour, breath," charles pulled her closer, leaning forward until their foreheads connected. he could feel the way her hands were shaking, the way she looked so scared, like she lost him.
she almost did.
"when i was in the car," charles began, their foreheads still touching and he could feel her inhale as he spoke, "with the radio disconnected, the thing i could thing of the promise i made to you. that i would come back to you, i would come home and we would watch that damn movie. i wasn't thinking that i was literally in the middle of a track which had several cars going around at dangerous speeds or the fact that i could be hurt, i was just thinking about you."
"i don't know if that's cute or stupid," y/n mumbled, making charles chuckle before he continued, leaning back slightly just so he could look at her.
"every time i get in that car, i make a promise to myself that if i finish this race, i would tell you how i feel. i would tell you everything and every single time, i break it. and this time, when there was a possibility that i wouldn't be able to ever, ever tell you that — "
"don't say that," y/n looked at him, her eyes bloodshot as she shook her head. "no, no, no, no, no. you will always come home, you will always come back to me. you promise me that."
"listen to me," charles pleaded, taking her hand in his as he intertwined his fingers with hers. he brought her hand to his mouth, placing a soft kiss on the back of it. "please."
y/n said nothing but nodded, her hold on his hand tightening.
"i knew that as soon as i got out of there, i had to tell you that — that — " he hesitated for a minute, wondering if he really was about to risk their friendship. take a chance on the person he wished to have forever in his life. risk lose his person, the one who always got him, the one who was his everything. " — that you're more than just my best friend."
charles heard nothing after that and he refused to look at her fear of her looking at him like he was completely mad. it was silent for a couple minutes, the only noise being the annoying beep of the machines and the chatter from outside as well as the crowd and the cars and a lot other things but the only thing that charles could focus on was the fact that y/n had yet to say something.
he sighed, gently pulling his hand out of her grasp and began to do the damage control, his mind racing on factors he could blame it whole confession at.
"that was just the painkillers talking and i think i'm going crazy, can you please call the doc — "
he was interrupted by her kissing him, her hands on his cheeks as she pulled him towards her and a surprise noise left charles' mouth and as soon as his brain caught up, he was kissing her back. he kissed her like it would the last time, tilting his head so that he could deepen the kiss. he could hear her say 'i love you' in between kisses, the words repeated like a prayer, a promise between. this was everything, the way she kissed like there was no tomorrow, the way she was in charge of the kiss, the way she sighed into his mouth and he swallowed the sound.
it was everything.
he almost thought that they'd never pull away and he was sure that they would've have, if not for the annoying beeping that filled the room, making them break away from each other and look at the cardiograph on the side of the bed.
the graph went up and down rapidly, which was no surprise to charles because he could feel the way his heart thudded in his chest.
the neon green line spluttered as it went up and came down, and charles reckoned it was exactly the way his heart did whenever she existed.
exactly the same way their heartbeats spelt 'i love you.'
#f1 x female reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagines#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc imagines
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La maison dansante, immeuble tordu ou ivre de Prague
Nouvel article publié sur https://www.2tout2rien.fr/la-maison-dansante-immeuble-ivre-de-prague/
La maison dansante, immeuble tordu ou ivre de Prague
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Ce qui est encore plus tordu, c'est que monsieur bavetout était aussi le fils d'Aaravos et n'attendait qu'une chose être sacrifié. Et Aaravos l'avait crée pour ça. Alors que Leola a été puni pour un "crime" contre l'ordre cosmique.
What's even more twisted is that Sir Sparklepuff was also Aaravos' son, and was just waiting to be sacrificed. And that's why Aaravos created him. Whereas Leola was punished for a “crime” against cosmic order.
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Hey ! I have a little question : how do you start to draw ? I want to start but idk how-
And, for the digital art, what app to used for it ?
(I'm sorry for my bad english, it's not my first language, in fr :
Hey ! J'ai une petite question : comment on commence a dessiner ? J'aimerai commencer mais jsp comment-
Et, pour l'art digital/digital art, quel application utiliser ?)
Bonjour Anon ^^
Bonnes questions! 💗
On va y aller en français parce que, comme disait le Roi de France, "Car tel est notre plaisir" et puis parce que je l’ai déjà expliqué en anglais quelque part dans mon tag #arttechnique donc, pour une fois, la communication se fera en Langage de Grenouille. 🇫🇷
Pour commencer sache que tu as ouvert la boite de Pandore, la réponse va donc être longue. Alors, « comment on commence à dessiner ? ».
1 - Papier/Crayon. C’est loin d’être une plaisanterie, on commence avec un papier et un crayon. Pas besoin d'avoir du matériel sophistiqué et onéreux, j'ai commencé avec le crayon et le carnet à la con de chez Carrefour. De plus, quand tu vois ce que fait Alan Lee avec juste le dit crayon, tu n'as pas besoin de plus. C'est vraiment très bien pour s'exercer/démarrer. Après, si tu veux commencer directement en digital, tu peux le faire bien évidemment soit avec un iPad soit avec un ordinateur et une palette graphique mais très honnêtement, le papier/crayon offre une bonne base
2 - S'y mettre. Ça peut paraitre con comme conseil mais c'est comme à la piscine il va bien falloir rentrer dans l'eau, ne serait-ce que dans le petit bain. C'est bien beau d'avoir du matériel et de se répéter qu'on "va s'y mettre un jour" mais si on repousse l'échéance, ça ne va pas marcher. Il faut se convaincre que Rome ne s'est pas fait en un jour et qu'au début, ça va être tordu et que tu vas dessiner n’importe quoi. La procrastination au nom du perfectionnisme est un mal réel mais arriver à l'occulter est un belle victoire.
Pour ce faire, on commence doucement par gribouiller des choses qu'on aime. Conseil qui sonne sans doute comme une lapalissade absolue mais au début, je dis bien au début, on peut rester dans sa petite zone de confort pour booster la motivation. Tu aimes les chats ? Dessine un chat. Tu aimes les fleurs ? Dessine une pivoine. Tu aimes le ballet ET Emmanuel Macron ? Bref, tu sais ce qu'il te reste à faire (on ne kink shame pas, je suis sure qu’il y a des amateurs quelques part). Cependant, petit à petit, il va falloir prendre plus de risques et se forcer un peu à dessiner des choses qu'on n'aime moins pour progresser mais au commencement, il n'y a pas de mal à gribouiller Les Chevaliers du Zodiac, n'importe comment.
Le Chevalier du Poisson après s’être pris un mur. J'avais 8 ans ok ?
Bon, je mets un « cut » parce que ça ne va pas être gérable.
3 - Suivre des tutos et ne pas avoir peur de l'aspect technique surtout quand on commence à aborder l'anatomie et la perspective. Et c'est là, qu'il va falloir sortir un peu de sa zone de confort pour faire des exercices pour pratiquer les ombres et lumières, la perspective, comprendre les points de fuites, les poses dynamiques. Il y a plein de tutoriels sur YouTube, tu as aussi des bouquins mais je pense qu'une vidéo est plus parlante. C'est vraiment TRÈS utile. Tu as des vidéos comme "apprendre à dessiner" ou "perspective pour débutant", "la théorie des couleurs pour les nuls", etc...C'est là que tu vas voir que pour dessiner un chat, un visage, un bateau il y a des règles pour simplifier une forme, un visage, un corps. Alors oui, c'est chiant de dessiner 12 fois la même main ou la même sphère éclairée différemment mais ça sert. Bref, commencer à dessiner, ça va être commencer à comprendre comment transposer la réalité en « 3D » vers un support « 2D », la feuille ou le canevas Photoshop, peindre ce que l’on voit et non pas ce que l’on croit voir, décomposer les formes, comprendre les couleurs. Une fois encore, ça va prendre du temps, mais ça viendra.
Pareil pour les applis de dessin que tu vas utiliser si tu commences en digital. Si tu ne sais pas faire quelque chose, va suivre des tutos sur Youtube. Il y a aussi des reels sur Instagram qui ne sont pas mal du tout car ils montrent des "trucs" comme des raccourcis clavier ou des façons de modifier les pinceaux (brushes) de Photoshop ou Clip Studio Paint.
4 - S'exercer par gribouiller tout et n'importe quoi, faire des croquis de...cafetière, bouquin, chaussures, prise électrique, la petite cousine, le gros voisin, la dame du pressing. 1) c'est marrant et 2) les défis techniques ne sont pas toujours là où on le croit 3) ces exercices permettent de comprendre ce dont je te parlais plus haut s’agissant de la décomposition des formes ainsi que de la façon dont la lumière frappe les objets.
5 - Utiliser des références. Je ne le dirais jamais assez, utiliser des références n’est pas tricher ! Des illustrateurs confirmés comme Alex Ross ont un studio où ils prennent des photos de leurs assistants, leurs amis, eux-mêmes, pour avoir une base de travail. Si tu veux dessiner un bateaux pirate, va chercher une photo de bateau pirate sur Internet. On n’est pas « un vrai artiste » parce qu’on dessine de tête ou sans gommer. 🙃
6 - Travailler régulièrement pour progresser. Je sais c'est dur de trouver du temps avec le lycée, la fac, le boulot, les transports, la vie de famille, etc...mais le mieux est d'arriver à dessiner un peu régulièrement, ça sera plus efficace que deux heures toutes les deux semaines. Les cours de géo sur les bassins sédimentaires sont faits pour ça. J'AI RIEN DIT.
7 - Ne pas se décourager. Je me répète mais les artistes étant leurs pires critiques, le chemin vers la satisfaction va être long. Tu vas commencer par copier tes artistes préférés et ta tête va exploser car un jour tes dessins vont ressembler à Mucha et le lendemain ça sera à One Piece et le jour suivant Moebius ou un web-comic coréen. C'est encore plus dur pour les artistes débutants aujourd'hui car ils sont confrontés, Tiktok après Tiktok, tableau Pinterest après tableau Pinterest, à un déluge constant d'influences, à une stimulation artistique telle qu'elle en devient inaudible pour un cerveau toujours plus sollicité. Savoir ce qu'on veut, se concentrer, construire son style sans se perdre est, je pense, un des grands défis des artistes débutants en 2024.
C'était joliment dit. Merci d'avoir suivi Ce soir ou jamais, on se retrouve demain soir.
Il va surtout falloir que tu prennes en compte en tant que débutant que quand tu vas commencer, tes progrès vont être proche de ça :
Ils ne seront pas linéaires mais, tu progresseras. Un petit "art block" de temps en temps, du découragement, mais surtout beaucoup de joie et de satisfaction quand tu auras dessiné quelque chose qui te tiens à cœur pour la première fois, même si tu détesteras ce même dessin deux mois plus tard, c'est ça être un artiste, félicitations!
8 - Ne pas se comparer à des illustrateurs de folie. Paix à son âme mais si tu vois une vidéo du regretté Kim Jung Gi qui dessinait des fresques entières sans traits de construction, à main levée, tu vas te dire "Mais punaise, pourquoi j'essaie ?". N'y penses pas, fais ta vie, à ton rythme. Pareil avec les gens de ton âge. Ne te compare pas à un mec de 13 ans à Singapour qui dessine déjà comme un artiste confirmé. On s'en fout. C'est une exception, grand bien lui fasse, on l'embrasse, cœur sur lui, mais ce n’est pas toi. Bref, l'inspiration OUI, la comparaison NON.
9 - Prendre des cours de dessins. Être autodidacte et s’entrainer tout seul, c’est bien, mais prendre des cours si on est perdu n’est absolument pas honteux. Il y a des cours municipaux, des ateliers parfois à la mairie, à la médiathèque de ta ville, etc...Alors oui, tu vas dessiner un pot de fleurs et une pomme avec Mamie Geneviève, retraité de la Mairie de Brie-Comte-Robert mais tu vas avoir un prof qui va t'expliquer les bases si tu sens que tu ne vas pas y arriver seul.
Et, pour l'art digital/digital art, quel application utiliser ?
Moi, j'utilise Photoshop mais c'est payant (et assez cher)
Pour commencer, je te recommande d'autres applications bien moins chères comme Krita (gratuite) ou, si tu as un iPad, Procreate. C'est environ 8€ (ça a peut-être augmenté depuis le temps où je l'ai acheté) mais pour tout ce que cette appli peut faire, c'est donné. Moins connue mais également gratuite, Fire Alpaca, très honorable aussi!
Clip Studio Paint est également très bien. Tu peux l'avoir soit avec un système d'achat unique, soit un system de souscription comme tu peux le voir ici.
Voilà ! Bref, il faut s’y mettre, se lancer, dessiner n’importe quoi pour se faire la main, suivre des tutos, parce que la technique c’est important, utiliser des références et ne pas se décourager.
J’espère avoir répondu à ta question et comme disait Marie-Pierre Casey :
"Je ne ferai pas ça tous les jours!" (même si personne ne m’a demandé de faire aussi long).
Si vous n’avez pas la réf, demandez à vos parents.
Passe un bon dimanche et courage ! On reste motivé !! 💗
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très haut amour - qui passez la mémoire - je reste tant affamée de vous ! - je reste agenouillée, entre vos bras courbée - fleurs impromptues - éclosions de paresse - et vos désirs ignés ! pour moi, tout offrande - de vos dents à ma bouche, de vos mains à mes seins, de l'aurore au grand jour... je suis ! je suis voulue - tordue - émancipée, visée - vos rêves sont plus forts, vos rêves sont plus fous... et j'ai le corps solide pour accueillir vos fièvres et encenser ma peau de toutes vos effluves de toutes vos zébrures - au ciel élancés ! tant d'éclairs entre nous que je reste incomprise... de nos écarts - de tant vouloir vos pensées mûres qui ont passé mon âge - pourtant ! vous êtes l'accord - de mes désirs et mes rivages - intelligible amour que vos bras dans mes bras - et que font donc les fleuves jetés dans les mers oublieuses - sinon se plaire d'être l'un avec l'autre - comme vous avec moi - de n'être point perdus entre deux solitudes - que vos regards ! ont flatté mes bordures et déjeté la nue - toutes mes prédictions ont perdu leurs ramures et vous êtes l'Indicible - entre tout homme, c'est vous ! à l'étoile courroucée j'ai rendu mes faiblesses et décliné mon sort car vous avez tout lu dans les veines sur mon corps - et mon destin, c'est vous ! et ma nuit qui s'achève n'est qu'un don répété à votre adoration - imprimée sur mes doigts à l'aide de vos lèvres - et vous m'avez marquée - libérée, révélée...
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Le Petit écho de la mode, no. 29, vol. 17, 21 juillet 1895, Paris. 3. Coiffure de jeune femme brune. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney
Coiffure de jeune femme brune. — Bandeaux ondulés au flou-flou à larges vagues. Racines des tempes simplement relevées et bouffantes ondulées de meme au flou-flou. Un simple chignon tordu derrière formant une sorte de nœud allongé. Voilà la coiffure dénotant bien le goût d’élégance artistique qui caractérise tout ce qui sort de la maison Lenthéric. Le flou-flou est un délicieux petit système extraordinairement remarquable comme trouvaille, avec lequel toute personne peut faire son ondulation, pour n’importe quel genre de coiffure. Sans bandeaux, avec bandeaux pour fillettes, jeunés filles, etc. Ce charmant appareil ne laisse apparaître dans les cheveux que de petits noeuds de rubans. Du reste, dans une prochaine chronique, Mme de Clessy vous parlera en détail de tous les avantages que les coquettes trouveront en se servant de ce petit système qui est breveté dans tous les pays du monde.
Hairstyle of a young brunette woman. — Wavy headbands with a blur and large waves. Roots of the temples simply raised and bouffant wavy even with a flou-flou. A simple bun twisted behind forming a sort of elongated knot. This is the hairstyle clearly denoting the taste for artistic elegance which characterizes everything that comes out of the Lenthéric house. The flou-flou is a delicious little system, extraordinarily remarkable as a find, with which anyone can make their own waves, for any type of hairstyle. Without headbands, with headbands for girls, young girls, etc. This charming device only leaves small ribbon knots appearing in the hair. Moreover, in a future column, Ms. de Clessy will talk to you in detail about all the advantages that coquettes will find by using this little system which is patented in all countries of the world.
#Le Petit écho de la mode#19th century#1890s#1895#on this day#July 21#periodical#fashion#fashion plate#hair#description#Forney#dress#Modèles de chez#Maison Lenthéric#Maison de Clessy
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