The Shadows and Light Series

New York based Japanese artist Kumi Yamashita, featured here, creates unique pieces of art using everyday objects and materials like paper and plastic. Among her most notable and surprising works are her Light-shadow series, where materials are arranged in relation to a single light source to reveal the true subject in the shadows. Opening on September 11th, Yamashita will exhibit a variety of new works in a solo exhibition at Art Front Gallery in Tokyo. In addition to her popular shadow art, she will present a series inspired by origami, the art of folding.

See more on Hi-Fructose.


Surprising New Origami and Shadow Art by  Kumi Yamashita

New York based Japanese artist Kumi Yamashita, featured here, creates unique pieces of art using everyday objects and materials like paper and plastic. Among her most notable and surprising works are her Light-shadow series, where materials are arranged in relation to a single light source to reveal the true subject in the shadows. Opening on September 11th, Yamashita will exhibit a variety of new works in a solo exhibition at Art Front Gallery in Tokyo. In addition to her popular shadow art, she will present a series inspired by origami, the art of folding. Made of cups and plastic-like polycarbonate sheets, Yamashita’s works combine the craft she learned as a child with modern design. Unlike in traditional Japanese origami, which focuses on the folded form, it is the patterns revealed during unfolding that most inspires her. We can see the influence of these patterns in other works, like her portraits made entirely of a single, unbroken sewing thread. There is a celestial quality to them, as if Yamashita designed her subjects after the constellations of stars. They are like an allegory to the artist herself, who relies on elements of the universe like light to bring her art to life.




Alternative Titles for the Shadows and Light Series:

‘Go Away, Feels King, the Nightmare King is Easier To Deal With.’

'The Feels Series.’

'No, REALLY, Seraphina / Mother Nature Are Deaaaaaad.’

'How Augus Made A Personal Feels Issue Into A Huge War and Everyone Was Slow on the Uptake. Well Done Everyone.’

'Not Poignant Thought That Chapter Wasn’t That Bad, SHIT’

'In Which North is Awesome and Cinnamon Cookies Fix Everything.’

'How The Two Loneliest People on The Planet Got Their Porn On And Jack Became an Insta-Sub.’

'In Which Gwyn is Awkward But Looks Really GOOD Doing It.’

'The Adventures of a Perplexed Nightmare Trying to Deal With Her Mid-Life Crisis and What the Fuck is that Yellow SANNNND-OH NO WHYYYY Oh I’m Back Now.’

'Bunnymund Became A Douche Whoops.’

'From the Feels We Feels’ and 'Into Feels We Feels.’

'Is Toothiana Even In This?!?!?!?!?!!?????’


okay, time to get back to writing.

End of the day practice. Was playing with perspective (urgh actually reading books to learn that proper instead of eyeballing it) and felt like drawing some animals/not really human? stuff. Finding the right balance for the character was a pain but I think it worked out okay? Meh, sleep time. Work’s been a bitch. 

(I think I may be spamming the Shadows and Light fanart thing, but there are some really interesting original characters I haven’t seen much ie the creatures and stuff. So here have a Gulvi.)

The light and shadow series

Hi everybody,

In these last days of August, we want to welcome September with a new ISU series. Our theme is “light and shadow”. 

We all know that light and shadows together can create great images, as we see the stunning examples on Tumblr everyday. And we want you to show us how you play with them!

We will be very happy to receive blog suggestions and/or submissions from you for our new series. Please don’t hesitate to contact us or submit your work until Monday (31st of August) and don’t forget to add “light and shadow series” on your submission.

Have a great weekend everybody!

Alexis & Nur

Chapter 4 of Into Shadows We Fall is now up. :)

Please pay attention to the content warning at the beginning of the chapter. Aaaaand here’s where you can find it: 

Chapter 4 @ AO3

Chapter 4 @


Welp, I guess it’s time to duck and cover. Or whatever it is that fanfic authors do when they post chapters like this.


I keep thinking about Zuko’s first appearance in LOK, and I swear there’s something very Book 1 Zuko about the lighting used in his first LOK appearance–especially in that very first shot. I know there are plenty of shots in Books 2 and 3 of the first series where they play with the shadows and lighting when focused on Zuko’s face, but Book 1 was where the lighting was used to emphasize his scar more all the while making him look more villainous, and the first shot of him in LOK keeps reminding of those shadowy shots in Book 1…I can’t explain it. Am I even making sense or do I sound crazy? 

I mean, it could also be because of the framing since we don’t see Zuko’s hairline, but still…the lighting. If you didn’t know that Zuko turned good or if you didn’t know about the show, I think you’d assume Zuko was the villain based on that first image because of the lighting.


A Light In The Shadow

(A series for Varric/Cassandra taking place throughout major events of the game)

Chapter 1| The Wrath of Heaven

Varric sat idly in a make-shift camp, eye fixed on the waning flame barley warming him in the chill of Havens mountain winds. Of all the fantastical things he had written about in his novels, of all the misadventures he had shared with Hawke and the crew back in Kirkwall, this day’s events may have earned the top ranking on his “Andrastes-Tits-What-Kind-Of-Nug-Shit-Is-This” list.

A sacred temple left in nothing but ash and scorched ruin, a tear in the sky so wide someone could mistake it for the Makers arse hole – if not for the hordes of demons that had come tumbling out of it. And now a young noblewoman from the Marches, their apparent only hope for…well, anything – lay unconscious in a house just outside camp. Where she had been since they returned a over day ago.

Maker, what piece of the Void had he fallen into?

A particularly frigid gust of wind picked up, blowing up the hair on the back of his neck and pulling him briefly from thought – Makers balls, how had he come to be here in this blighted mess? Among the hundred other questions he had, this one had only one true and distinct answer. He felt his brows furrow, thinking of its face.

Her face.

The Seeker, she who had interrogated him about Hawke, who had dragged him from the comfort of the Hanged Man with a cloth over his face, manhandled by guards and threatened with an assortment of violent outcomes if he didn’t comply with her demands.

It was nothing the Merchants Guild hadn’t put him through before – but she had stabbed one of his books. Stabbed it! Talk about insult to injury.

Then she had hauled him toward the Conclave with the argument of ‘You must tell the Most Holy your tale for yourself’ - and would here no more of it. Every time he protested, her dark eyes boar into his own, jaw set in with that perpetual scowl seemingly reserved only for him.

Well a great lot of good it was for them now. The Divine was dead – shit practically EVERYONE who attended was dead. Now she and the other higher-ups plotted in the town’s ancient Chantry. Whatever they were concocting - he hoped to play no part in it at all, if possible.

Surely the Seeker would be tired of his quips, his sarcasm, his face – just as he thought he should have grown tired of hers. The lack of disdain he felt must have been because of the throbbing headache that rang in its place. Rubbing his temples, Varric closed his eyes in an attempt to relax, and to think of anything else but the Seekers grimace.

It was going to be a long night.


Cassandra felt her fingers clench into fists, and she released them gently – only to have them clench again. The cycle repeated as she watched the small…what? Council? Team? What were they to call themselves? A make-shift group formed in sheer desperation if they were being truthful.

Besides herself in the small Chantry room stood Leliana, left hand of the Divine, the spymaster - or as she had heard her called in lesser company, the shadow behind the Sunburst Throne. Cullen Ruthorford – former Knight Captain of Kirkwall, ex-templar and from the looks of it now, frustrated man on the edge of his temper as he argued with Josephine – the Antivan noble working with the local Marquis of Haven. Her face was just as tight as Cassandras felt, though her tone was much more level than Cullens.

“That is what he said, Commander.” Her voice was even, but held a note of tension “He will be here within the week to speak with us.”

“Well he cannot just kick us out!” Cullen threw his hands into the air and turned from her in a huff, choosing instead to place them on his hips and casting his eyes to the floor. After a moment, he spoke in barely more than a mutter “Andraste preserve me, where are we to go if not here?” it sounded more like a plea than a question and Cassandra felt a twinge of empathy for him. They were all tired from the journey, confused and scared after the disaster of the Conclave. It was a recipe for destruction at the best of times – and now they all faced the worst.

“I am working on it, I promise.” Josephine’s voice was soft now as she scribbled on the parchment board she carried like a newborn, always clutched to her breast. “I’m sure we can make him see reason. See our cause is just to the Chantry he serves.”

“I should hope so.” Leliana finally chimed in “If we are to reconstruct the Inquistion of old, we will need all the support we can muster.”

“Indeed.” Cassandra paused for a deep sigh before continuing “Perhaps…it is best for us to continue this conversation after Trevelyan has the strength to join us. She may hold the answers we all need.”

A mummer of agreement went around the circle and Cassandra was the first to the door “I have instructed her watcher to send her here once she awakes, until then we must keep our wits, and tempers, in check. As difficult as it may be for all of us.” And with that she made her way out into the fresh air.

What she needed now more than anything was to hit something, and hit it hard. The disappearance of the Most Holy, the mess of the camp, the suspect turned unlikely saviour – how had it brought any of them here? What had the Maker led her into? Her questions left her doubtful, her hurt left her angry, and her heart hammered for justice.But now, she would need to settle for practice instead.

Recalling a group of training dummies the remaining soldiers had set up for themselves, she started across the grounds towards them. The townsfolk and ex-Chantry forces alike seemed to steer clear of her path - perhaps the aura she gave off was not as subtle as she would have thought. If they were to lead anyone, they must appear both calm and united, and as of now she was neither.

Just as she turned towards the main gate, her attention snapped to the familiar sound of irritation.

“Seeker! Glad to see you’ve immerged – and without a single hostage? Progress!”

The dwarf, Varric Tethras – had she thought she reached the point of total exasperation before now, he had proven her wrong.

Ignoring the comment entirely Cassandra continued on her war path, if she did not have the strength or patience to continue with her new colleagues she certainly did not have any left for him.

“Oh why Seeker, here I thought you only reserved the sour face for me – do you not have a moment for your favorite author?”

For a moment, Cassandra felt herself fluster – could he know she had read more than Tale of the Champion? No, no he could not. It was only his arrogance seeping out, one of his many tasteless qualities.

She proceeded over to him then, noting the mix of amusement and caution in his expression - watching her with those thoughtful blue eyes and searching her face for… something. Whatever it was, she silently urged Andraste to keep it from him.

“Varric, as if you mean so much to me that I would reserve an expression for you alone.” The tone was harsher than she anticipated it to be, but her voice was tired – showing her mental strain plainly. She crossed her arms and glared down at him “What is it you want now?”

His half-cocked smirk never wavered, save for his over-exaggerated expression of shock “Seeker!” he held a hand to his chest, pouting up at her “How could a lowly commoner such as myself ever seek anything of a Champion such as you? Save but to ask if she is through having her way with me.”

With a grunt of disgust Cassandra turned on her heel, at least now she had a face to imagine as she swung her cleaver at the practice target. Before her other foot hit the ground he continued “That is, you are done with me now, aren’t you? Now that the Divine is…gone. My job here is over, right?”

She froze. The Divine was gone, perhaps lost, perhaps dead – though for all her prayer it was not so, for all her pain and outrage – it was still true. And she had brought him to this place specifically to speak with her. But now…She turned again to face him “No.” the word sounded more like an order than answer. She watched his amusement wash away now, replaced with something she could not describe. Not disappointment, not rage but…what? Perhaps it was surprise.

“The Divine may still reappear. We do not know the events of the Conclave – and besides that…” With a hard look, Cassandra took him in now and saw the goose-pimples on his neck, the way he kept his hands in his pockets for warmth, his proximity to the fire. If he was so cold, why not cover up that blasted chest?

“…besides that, Leliana, Josephine, Cullen and myself agree we will need all the strength that can be mustered right now. You proved yourself useful in the valley with Trevelyan, we will likely require your skills in the coming days.

”His smugness returned as quickly as it had faded “You know Seeker, if you’re going to miss me – you could really just say so. Who would blame you?”

“Ugh.” Was all she managed before pounding off towards the training ground – her target not only had a face now; it had a death wish too.

By sacraloon

from the new serie No:3 Journey in the shadows of light.
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