Dive Deep into Creativity: Discover, Share, Inspire
I want to tell a story to the artists and would-be artists out there.
When I was 19, I made a large oil painting of the nerd I would eventually marry. I poured all my attention and care into this painting. It's the only art I have from back then that still holds up as a work I'm proud of today.
I entered it into a judged show at the local art center. It got an honorable mention. I went to see the show with my beloved model. One of the judges came up to talk to me, and highlighted that all the judges really liked the painting. It would have placed, except, you see, the feet were incorrect. They were too wide and short, and if I just studied a bit more anatomy-
I called over my future wife, and asked her to take off her shoe. Being already very used to humoring me, she did. The judge looked at her very short, very wide little foot. Exactly as I'd lovingly rendered it. I would never edit her appearance in any way.
The judge looked me in the eye, and to his credit, he really looked like he meant it when he said "Oh I'm so sorry."
Anyways the moral of the story is that all of those anatomy books that teach you proportions are either showing you averages, or a very specific idea of an idealized body. Actual bodies are much more varied than that.
So don't forget to draw from observation, and remember that humans aren't mass produced mannequins. Delight in our variation. Because it's supposed to be there.
Th blnc ws dstrd lng g. Thr r n vwls nmr. Nw trnslt ths
"Miluji tě<3"
@dr-houses-left-buttcheek
Subject: Regarding Your Translation Requests 🦑📜
Dear Nico,
I regret to inform you that I can no longer serve as your translator, interpreter, or spiritual linguist.
You see, last Tuesday at precisely 3:47 AM, I was visited in a dream by a sentient dictionary named Merriam-Webscream. She informed me, in fluent Morse code and interpretive dance, that continuing to translate for you would disrupt the ancient balance between vowels and consonants. Apparently, the fate of the English language now rests on me speaking only in riddles and sound effects until the next lunar eclipse.
Additionally, my pet iguana (who is actually a licensed psychic) foresaw that if I translated one more sentence for you, the moon would fall out of orbit, and all toast would be permanently burned on one side. I can't let that happen. I love toast. The crust symmetry must be preserved.
So, effective immediately, I shall be communicating only through interpretive eyebrow raises and the occasional honk. 🫨🔊
Please respect my journey.
In confused commitment to nonsense, Ash Licensed Professional in Absolutely Nothing Founder of the “No Translate, Only Chaos” movement™