(Source: monsieurvalentin, via earthmusic)
Schoolgirl in Tokyo / National Geographic
(Source: ricktimus, via airinn)
shentanaka in 30days coordinate
Joschi Herczeg and Daniele Kaehr - Explosions, 2010 - custom-built detonator connected to cameras and synchronized to photograph at the moment of explosion
I don’t know if the 100% meme is still going around, but I got a question about what resolution I usually work at/how big my files are for digital illustration, and the answer is, fucking ridiculous resolutions. These are some 800x500 px, 100% resolution crops of recent work that is either digital or has enough digital finishing done that I can’t call it traditional. I also captioned each image with the pixel dimensions of the images the crops are from, but let it be known that the smallest image was originally 2000x2000 px.
Of the work that started in traditional media, the largest piece was roughly 6x8”. I scan everything in at 600 dpi (which turns into a 3600x4800 canvas, if you’re too lazy to work it out, except for the deer - for stuff with gold ink, I take photos, but it works out about the same) so that I have some paper texture to work with. They are so huge that you can see little blooms along the edges of lines where the ink bled into the paper.
Barry, can you but in a floating burger with eyes, smiling, gently floating right to left across the screen.
Thank you Barry
I saw her one day, a small figure standing at the edge of a cliff facing a wide, boundless ocean. I felt the familiar pang of deep sadness welling up inside me.
I was adamant to approach her for I’d knew that if I was in her place, I’d prefer to be alone.
"Hello 19 year old me", she said, "you still not know how to chase your own happiness yet?"
I was standing beside her, the sea shining brilliantly blue under my feet. It was beautiful, dangerous and I felt so small compared to the wide waves of sadness under my feet. I tried to look at 29 year old me, she was tall and beautiful, but also nothing but a white space that looked vaguely human.
My heart felt wretched and hollow, I looked down and there is nothing but a hole that grows bigger and bigger with each tear I shed.
"No," I told her, "I can’t chase my happiness when I have nothing to begin with.
I have parents that I disappoint endlessly, I have friendships that my own jealousy eats apart, I know nothing of love nor is brave enough to love. Anger claws at every slight betrayal, Pride tears me from my repentance and forgiveness. The only thing I was good at never gave me any appraisal. I now believe nothing of a god who betrays me and took so much away from me.
How to create happiness when I have so little to work with?’
The hole in my chest was now as wide as my torso, I felt heavy with emptiness.
"And most of all, I am afraid that this sadness will consume me. That one day I’d become nothing at all but a monster that just tears apart whatever little that is left"
I now saw that 29 year old me was no taller nor beautiful than I am. 29 year old me said nothing back.
29 year old me was in a foreign land with a wide blue ocean with a cat the colour of charcoal and a big dog the shade of sunflowers.
Everything around her was just blue and yellow, black and white.
(Source: thunderlunch, via mlysza)
Jonathan Safran Foer once said that he’d thought himself out of happiness a million times, but never once into it. But maybe that’s the very thing that we’re all doing wrong: we keep trying to think ourselves into happiness without ever accepting that loneliness and self-loathing and the feeling…