By Brooks Shane Salzwedel, carefully layered mixed media and drawing to make these really unique landscapes. It adds so much depth to each piece just by having several layers of images built up on one another.
I remember doing this at my nans when I was watching Art Attack, I found it the other day haha.
hello guys!
i’m thinking of making some high quality inkjet prints on archival printmaking paper of some of my work. i’ve attached images of the works i am thinking of printing. the gifs won’t be animated though.
also the two sizes i am considering are 13”x19” or 17”x22”!
please let me know which images and which size you’d be most interested in purchasing! you can reply to this post, message me on tumblr, or send me an email at omocat@ymail.com.
reblogs are appreciated as usual!
thank you everyone!!
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
This is a song about a whale. NO. This is a song about being Eridan.An Eridan Ampora fansong. I recorded this with a sore throat so maybe i’m nuts for posting it, but I sorta liked the outcome even if it isn’t perfect. :)
Download at SoundCloud source.
~
I am a prince and I live in a ship and I aim my rifle and I shoot from the hip
and I have a friend I pity quite a bit
she said “grab your gun let’s have some fun, share with me your perigees
I have responsibilities, I cannot run!”“I do not wish the death of any living thing, I might be a killer but one day I shall be queen and put an end to slaughter, but until then I’m keen on staking claim to land and sea and everyfin between.”
I played a game with eleven fools who told me not to break the rules
but when have angels ever helped me yet?
and magic isn’t real and anyway it doesn’t matter
cause no matter what I conjure it could not help be me deflectthe angry death of every hopeful thought
that I might be a lover or a fighter that I’m not
in someones spider web or net I could be caught
but I’m too bitter, better off alone, guess I forgotSo what? Do you want me to say sorry?
should I apologize, when you ignore me?
I didn’t ask to be right or to be lonely
or to be hatched into an ugly storyI am a prince and I had a pair of princesses in two sharp squares
but then I guess I bored them both to death
And now I think my calling is to break apart and fall to pieces
better yet invent a brand new method of ascensionI’m impressed, you’ve managed to survive
but rest assured we’d all be better off dead than alive
cause when they get a-hold of us we’ll all be batter fried
and I’m surprised that nobody’s considered switching sidesSo here I am, respectfully and royally destroying
any chance of getting back on your good gills
And I don’t want to be hurtful but if yellows the new purple
well then bleeding’s the new breathing, don’t you think I will!I used to wish the death of every living thing
I might be your killer but you’d never be my queen
so put away your laughter, pack up your hopes and dreams
I’m done with black back-handing and red pandering, it seemsThat I am just pathetic, I won’t be overlooked
I’m past the point of fishing to get back upon your hook
I’ve made a manifesto, I’ve been bested by a crook, but never more!
I’m planning on reclaiming what he took…So what? do you want me to say sorry?
should I apologize, when you ignore me?
I didn’t ask to be right or to be lonely
or to be hatched into an ugly story
to be hatched into an ugly storyOh my, this pantomime is getting gory
I am a prince and I live in a ship
I am a prince and I live in a ship~
When I came upon these two, Dad had just finished shooting and was sitting down for a rest. The boy was kneeling down, trying to get his small hands around the ball that Dad had left behind. I asked for a portrait, and suggested that Dad lift the boy up— just like the portrait shows.
When I walked away, I glanced back over my shoulder. Instead of returning to the bench where I’d found him, Dad was now down on his knees— trying to teach the boy to dribble.
I found it poetic how the perception created by the portrait led to an actual change in behavior. The man wanted to be the Dad in the portrait— teaching the boy to play. Even though I’m sure he’s already a wonderful father, the portrait reminded him to keep being so.
There’s a healthy pressure to live up to others’ perceptions of us. It’s a pressure created by healthy communities. It’s the pressure that turns children into good adults. And adults into good parents.
