Fire Art

OHGODOHGOD PRIDE MONTH'S ALMOST OVER OH GOD - my procrastinating ass

Yeah I'm sorry, June was bit of a difficult month for me and my art. But hey, look what I brought!

GUYS IT'S CHONNY JASH!!!1!!

Bonus under the cut

Bonus:

Bonus 2 (a doodle of me & my friend I made in the very beginning of June)

This is a fucking nightmare

They're right there

wow more writing practice this time about my dislike for AI

One thing I’ve had to grapple with during this surgence of AI is that not everyone wants to be an artist or creative. I’ve always just assumed people take other jobs to sustain themselves, but truly many if not most people don’t want to do something creative with their life or leave any sort of lasting impact. Most people just want to enjoy life to the fullest or at the very least just survive. My understanding as art being the ultimate dream is my own experiences clouding my judgment. Despite this art still defines our culture an insane amount along with being a representation of the times. As silly as it is to say stuff like “Seinfeld” reveals us a look into 90s culture just as a more seriously taken art piece like the “Merchant of Venice” can give us a look into the late 1500’s/early 1600’s. Most importantly to me it’s an expression and a look into a part of the human experience. AI is more or less a pattern machine. It takes what it's been fed and finds patterns to make something ““new””. There is no motivation behind what it’s doing. No need to scratch a creative itch or want to share and express one's life. It does what it does because it was told to. With this realization it not only delegitimizes the point of art but also shows that in the end these soul crushing recent events comes not from the AI but still the greed of the richest amongst us (I swear to god if I get one comment about that stupid game)  and the misunderstanding of art by business people. Even if AI art was just as good as a lot of human art, it is not, it still betrays the very core of what art is. Despite what the CEOs of the biggest media companies may think, art is not just entertainment but an important part of the human condition. Of course for the many creatives in every corner of the world but also for everyone in between. More than likely you’ve seen a piece of art that's connected with you. It’s shown a part of you or your experiences that you may have not been able to explain or maybe it’s made you feel for someone in the story evil or good, personal or universal. Isn't that kind of amazing. That us humans’ empathy sense is so strong that even to a character we know isn’t real we can still have an emotional reaction as big as crying or laughing or tensing up or whatever. AI has none of this. It is not a being capable of emotion, free will, or expression. We can not allow these old greed bags to take more from us than they already have. We can not have tech bros decide our culture. We can not have the representation of our culture be made by an emotionless, moralless, and uncreative being incapable of moving things forward. Only by taking the old and rehashing just enough to seem distinct enough. Some may say that humans themselves have no originality but I disagree with our distinct ways of taking old formats and archetypes, then mixing, adapting, and changing the very foundation of the original work. We are not a pattern machine but a remixing artists that take many different ideas and motifs, add a bit of our own likes and experiences and make something wholly distinct from its inspirations. Don't let any billionaire tech bro tell you differently.

Jashtober day 5: Angel

What have I done? I shot at him. I had to. His assessments. His methods. The vile trite he spews, then turns around and acts like it’s wisdom. He claims he will pull us into the light ,yet I see where this path leads in the end. Either the body dies from the soul’s exhaustion or the soul dies in order to keep the body going. Leaving an empty cadaver with only computer parts left inside to keep its joints from rusting and its eyes still blinking. I’d been practicing for weeks. First I attempted echolocation (I got surprisingly good, but not shooting a gun accurately, good). Then I tried shooting a dummy point blank (I realized after a few days of testing that method, mind would totally just smack it out of my hand). So I finally decided on just shooting it in the general direction of his voice. It did not work. So I’m stuck in this hole. Mind despises me more than ever and I’ve lost soul’s trust. What have I done? 

Heart, mind, and soul au, but their just the 3 stooges.

@darrelsnumber1fanboy credit or whatever

What do you mean I was wrong

Ok, so we can all agree this is the finally ship of theseus, right?

The song actually ended in a way a song would end, the description thanks all the artists, and of course the ship has been completely replaced. From the sails, to the face decoration in the front, and even the sky and ocean aren't the ones from the first artwork.

My guess will be he'll combine them into one very long song tomorrow. Maybe not, but that's what I think.

Good god theyre multiplying

Are you ever at a restaurant and accidentally make reference (it was not an accident)

so we can all agree Mind would fall for crypto scams, right?

more writing of this guy because I really like him. :P

“FAUST, bring me my cologne” Faust was sick and tired of working all day but obliged nonetheless. Johann G. Faust was used to being a servant for Lucifer, but today was extra demanding. The fallen angel apparently had a date tonight and was taking it very seriously. “OH MY, UNDER MY CHIN HOW DID I FORGET TO SHAVE UNDER MY CHIN. FAUST, BRING ME MY RAZOR!” Many found his gravely New Yorkin accent charming, but to Faust, it had become extraordinarily grading on his ears. Like a ringing chirp of broken alarm clock that formed a polycule with nails and a chalkboard. “FAUST!! Oh, there you are.” He took the cologne and razor from Faust with not as much as a look or nod of gratitude. His usual Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts were replaced with an abyssal black suit jacket and dress pants that made his usual blazing red skin pop. He had a glowing white button up, that was borrowed from Michael, under his jacket topped with a black tie that itself was decorated with a blue flame pattern at the bottom. “Faust go get some horn cream from the hallways closet… please.” Faust thought that if he put this much effort into the monthly meeting, God might respect him more, but he kept that thought to himself. As Lucifer was applying the cream to his tiny coned horns, Faust noticed that his hair didn’t seem to be as thin as it usually was; he must have used some sort of magic instead of his usual comb over technique. Lucifer started to use an eyebrow pencil to fill in his pencil ‘stache before looking at Faust halfway through. He chuckled awkwardly at his soul-bound companion “Too much?” “You'll look good either way, sir. It’s up to your personal taste.” Faust talked in his usual quiet reserved manner; the only remnants of his once German accent was the fact he still pronounced his w’s as v’s. Lucifer finished his mustache filling and for the finishing touch put on some mascara and eye-shadow. As Faust waited at the door watching his master leave, he couldn’t help but notice how the king of hell and punisher of the damned had his spaded tail wagging in excitement.