and they have an art gallery in there too

Illustration by Jenni Sparks (UK)

“To me, music and art go hand in hand and I can’t do anything without it. I’ve been obsessed with music from a very young age and I love the aesthetics, logos and symbols of the industry. There are too many artists that I’d like to dedicate this piece to, so I decided instead to illustrate the sounds that have made me who I am. The result is a chaotic mish-mash of record labels, song lyrics, portraits and anything else I could think of.”

A Roman cavalry parade helmet, early 3rd century AD and probably made in the Danube valley.

This elaborately decorated helmet was made from a single sheet of metal. It has an eagle’s head on the crest, winged sea-dragons, and a feathered border that ends in a bird’s head.

It is too fragile to ever have been worn into battle. It would have been used as part of a ceremony or parade.

It is in the Norwich Castle Museum and Art Gallery

Image from the Leeds Museum and Galleries flickr: Helmet

Summer and Sleeping Beauty

Jason Todd X Reader

Word Count: 1438

Notes: Soul Mark Universe, where the first words spoken to you by your soul-mate appear in a random spot on your body, on your sixteenth birthday.

Part 1

You have to leave everything behind when you move into Wayne manor. Literally, the only thing you have is the dress on your back. To be honest you’re a bit stunned by the manor, it’s almost enough to make you forget about the awkward car ride with the rest of his family.

You’re given a room separate from Jason’s for the night, and several shirts that are far too big for you and pants with drawstrings are brought to you. It will have to do for now. You’ll order new clothes tomorrow; after all, you have a job. You work for one of Gotham’s upscale art galleries, and people had called you foolish for getting a degree in art.

You call out for the rest of the week the next day, explaining the circumstances to your boss, this little old man who just smiles all the time. His own soul-mate had passed away a few months ago, and he tells you to enjoy your week. Jason too takes off of work, and together you drive into the city. You spend the day shopping, and Jason not so patiently waits as you try on piece after piece.

You do your best to distract him with questions about himself. He’s a little cagey at first, but pretty soon he opens up. He talks about living on the streets, and how Bruce had found him and took him in. He talks about his brothers; well, he talks about Damian and Dick, and complains a bit about Tim.

The final store you lead him into is a lingerie store. You tease him a bit as you ask him his opinion on every piece. About half way through, you can tell he’s trying to hide something. He carries some of your bags, as you finally leave. Then he declares that it’s his turn. He leads you into a motorcycle store. He takes one look at you before shoving something leather in your arms and telling you to try it on.

It’s riding gear, and though not your usual style, it looks good on you. You’ve never been on a motorcycle before, but something tells you that that’s going to change.

The next several weeks pass quickly, and after a month you move into his room You get to know everyone, and end up spending a lot of time with Bruce’s wife. She’s nice, and the two of you will sit and talk about the boys over coffee in the morning.

Both you and Jason tend to work a lot of late nights. There’s usually some sort of show going on at the gallery, and he’s usually testing the security, or playing with some new toy the company has developed.

Either way, you always wake up as he slips into bed. His arm wraps around your waist and pulls you in close, and he’ll kiss your hair. You immediately fall back asleep. In the morning you wake up to him kissing you and playing with your hair, and all he says is, “Good Morning Sleeping Beauty.”

It’s on a night that you get home really late, and Jason’s already in bed and asleep that you find him having a nightmare.

You gently shake him awake, and he pins you to the bed. You’re not afraid, you know that he’d never hurt you. Wriggling one wrist free, you stroke his hair and tell him, “It’s okay Jason, it’s just me. It’s Y/N.” His breathing calms down and he kind of just collapses next to you. He tries to put some distance between you but you don’t allow that. You snuggle right up to him and tell him you love him.

The next day is Saturday and he takes you out on the motorcycle for the first time. He stops at a stand on the side of the road, and the two of you just eat and talk. It’s one of the best days of your life. He gives you a silver locket with a picture of you and him. It’s one of those cheesy ones taken in a photo booth at the mall, the first day you spent together. You kiss him like there’s no tomorrow as a thank you.

Monday is another late night. It’s a high profile show, and you’re playing hostess. Everything is going fine until the party is crashed. It’s Bane. He has the paintings off the wall, and his goons are trying to shake people down for their cash and jewelry. They want your locket.

Your hands shake as you clasp the pendant. You don’t want to give it up. Jason went to a lot of trouble to get it for you, but it’s not worth your life either. You’re just about to give in, when the windows cave in, and in come Gotham’s heroes.

The goon who had been trying to get your necklace is down a second later, and the one in the red metal hood is picking you up and carrying you out of the room. His scent tickles your nose, his aftershave identifying your savior, after all, you bought it for him. The helmet disguises his voice as he tells you to stay there.

Just as he’s about to leave you call his name; your voice is soft barely above a whisper, after all no else can know, but you say it anyways, “Jason, please don’t leave me.” He doesn’t.

New art I can finally post! This is an illustration for Fantasy Flight Games’ Arkham Horror LCG.
I managed to sneak in one last illustration art directed by the fantastic Zoë Robinson too, and I’m so grateful for it! I always have a blast doing anything she assigns to me.

And on march 5th I’m having a gallery show at Sehiii gallery. so you will be able to see more work like this on display and for sale!

Hogwarts House aesthetics


Running until you are out of breath, bonfires, spontaneous tattoos, singing at the top of your lungs, sugar highs, tree-climbing, city lights at night, performing in front of hundreds of people, walking barefoot in mud, popsicles, music with a bass so loud you can feel it in your bones, skinned knees, getting up the courage to talk to someone first, red lipstick, rollercoasters


Hour long phone calls, vintage clothing, freckles, flowers in hanging baskets, humming a tune, laughing until you can’t breathe, being a shoulder to cry on, too-large sweaters, linking arms, feel-good movies and popcorn, lazy afternoons, cupping a warm mug in both hands, sunflowers, having lots of pets, hugs, mis-matched socks, smiling for no reason


The sound of pouring rain, chewing on the ends of pencils, echoing footsteps in an art gallery, staying up too late, ice coffee, the smell of books, fear of being average, ink-stained fingers, late-night conversations about the universe, doodles in notebook margins, not being able to write fast enough to get your ideas down, smudged glasses that you don’t bother to clean


In-jokes between close friends, black and white photography, the satisfaction of succeeding, gothic architecture, sharply winged eyeliner, neatly arranged stationary supplies, expensive wine, ballroom dancing, standing on the roof of a high building, black coffee, catching snow on your tongue, going to the ballet, the taste of peppermint

No More Secrets

Anonymous: Could you maybe write one where the reader helps Vanessa at the gallery and is the one to greet Matt when he goes to collect info and he he starts to “date” you to gain more Intel but he actually falls in love with you? Is that too specific? I’m sorry if it is, but I LOVE your writing! Thanks and I hope you’re having a nice day!

Oooh, sneaky Matt.  :)

Matt Murdock x Reader


It wasn’t supposed to get this far, they were supposed to go on a few dates so he could get some info on Fisk.  That was all. Matt sure as hell didn’t expect to fall head over heels in love with the girl he met in the art gallery a few months ago when he ran into the Kingpin himself.  He thought he was being slick, although guilt would occasionally wriggle its way into the pit of his stomach and he’d contemplate telling her it was all a ruse.  At first. Matt and Y/N went on a few dates as planned and he got some valuable information on Fisk, but as time went on, he’d find himself forgetting to mention the man during their outings. Matt would use this as an excuse to ask her out on just one more date and before he knew it, seven months had flown by.  He was blown away by how content he felt around Y/N, how calm and warm and happy he was during their dates.  

Then one day, it came to an explosive end. 

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anonymous asked:

I'm trying exposure therapy for my social anxiety as per my therapist suggestion. I don't have money though or when I do it's barley any since I am not currently working due to this anxiety. Any ideas of places I can go that are free or cheap? Today I sat at panera bread with a tea reading and writing for an hour and browsed a used book store.

Libraries are quiet places you can interact with people in a safe and controlled environment with lots of free resources as an added bonus. Books! Movies! Music!

I also love to people watch in places like malls, parks, public transit, and art galleries. It helps my anxiety to watch how others interact with people. All free or at least cheap and require minimal interaction unless you decide otherwise.

Taking a class in something you enjoy might also be another idea. Exercise or art classes often have deals on first classes to get new members so you could probably find one in your area for not too much! It pushes you outside of your comfort zone a little but gives you something to focus on (the instructions) so the focus really isn’t on socialization. 

I hope that helps and I wish you the best of luck 💕


Boyfriend Jongin moodboard 2/??

  • Takes you to art galleries/the zoo
  • Walking your dogs together super early or late at night 
  • loves to be the little spoon
  • grabs your ass a lot at home 
  • calls you “babe” or “baby girl”
  • Calls you while he’s on tour late at night cus he misses your voice
  • “Tell our dogs I love them too”
  • says “babe lets have another baby” but you both know he’s talking about a dog 
  • Secretly puts his hand on your thigh in public
  • Lets you “borrow” his sweaters even tho he knows he’ll never see it in his closet again
  • Loves it when you play with his hair
  • Loves to play with your curls even tho you tell ‘em to stop cus it’ll get frizzy 
  • “Why are you sleeping on my butt??” “Because it’s so soft and big~”
  • simple matching outfits
  • sleepy deep conversations late at night
  • waffles w/fried chicken
  • lets you & his niece give him “makeovers”
  • likes how flustered & embarrassed you get when he compliments you (and vice versa)
  • likes to have his back rubbed and scratched
  • loves it when you kiss on his jaw and nape
  • you two used to go to pet shops “just to look at the dogs” but suho banned you two from going cus you kept adopting them
  • we both know you suck at dancing but i’m still going to teach you
  • bubble baths together
  • singing your hearts out to r&b jams alone together
  • his cold ass feet keep touching you when you’re trying to sleep and you nag him to put socks on every night
  • peaceful late night drives
  • extreme competitiveness while playing mario kart or mario party
  • nose & forehead kisses
  • he loves it when you give him back hugs
mino; the art of falling

Originally posted by bwipsul

Based on this summary: You regularly visit an art museum, and you come to admire pieces of art work by Minho. Though you didn’t know this as he’d been using a pen name. You find out late one night where he happens to be there too.

Sidenote: This was the end of a series called The Art of Falling, and one of my favourite parts to write out of sixteen chapters. I hope you enjoy :’) 

It was only supposed to be a normal visit to the gallery, just like countless times before. It wasn’t because he lacked interest, but time was just never on his side to actually attend weekend tutorials. From life painting to sculpting classes, there were many that he would have loved to experience, but just like always, Minho had other commitments.  

This week’s class was titled “Open Life” and by the looks of it, students were given the freedom to choose whatever media they wanted. He had the time to spare, so why the hell not? It had been a while since he’d set anything on canvas, and Minho missed painting, drawing, anything. The smell of oils and paint thinners sparked something dormant in him, which was funny how he can easily find the same scent in his studio. Perhaps it was how it reminded him so much of the past, memories brushed vividly across the walls and the image of you still present in every corner.

This place was different, no one seemed to take interest in him –a new atmosphere that he must admit was somewhat refreshing. Minho trailed into the studio, quick eyes settling on a partly hidden stool by the far right. The remaining seats were occupied not long after and he was too immersed in the sets of charcoal, inks and acrylics that were set underneath each easel to notice that the tutor had walked in.

It was five years since he last heard your voice. Remnants of it through old videos of you saved in his phone didn’t count but even if he was sure he’d forgotten it he’d pick the sound in a split second even in a crowd.

Just like he did right at that moment.

“It seems like I’ll be your model today, folks.”

Minho snapped to the side, peering over his easel to get a better look of today’s tutor. And when it was you his gaze landed on, it was like a bolt from out of the blue. He didn’t need to do a double take, shock stunned his senses and Minho was left powerless. The tight stir in his chest reminded him to catch a breath, leaning back to face the empty canvas before getting caught staring like a complete idiot.

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❅ ✿ Lil Jackunzel sketch, around 40min

Anonymous, u were lucky cuz today I’ve finished soon work and it happens that i’m so-in-love with Jack Frost this last month, so i dont really care drawing him a lot, he’s just too handsome i dont ever have enough

“I don’t enjoy observing people as much as I used to. Everyone acts like they’re on stage. People used to come to The Village sheepishly. Nobody was sure if they belonged. We didn’t know if we were artists. These days everyone walks around like they’re contributing something. There’s no angst anymore. There’s too much certainty. And that’s a shame. Because all the best art comes from people who feel like they don’t belong. Art is a way of proving your existence. When I was a young man, a person that I respected told me that I was an artist. It was one of the worst things that could have happened to me. I stopped walking into museums or galleries with a sense of awe. I walked in feeling like an ‘artist.’ My arms would be crossed. If I liked a piece, it was ‘good.’ If I didn’t like a piece, it was ‘bad.’ I didn’t feel vulnerable anymore. I lost my humility. And that’s when growth stops.”

anonymous asked:

alyssa!! i was visiting the art gallery near my university today, and they have a lot of 18th century nautical paintings, ya know? so i end up talking with a security guard, this like 60 year old man, about how much i like a certain painting. and he starts telling me how he likes it a lot too because it reminds him of his favorite show...... Black Sails. like bich.... me too.... the fuck

stop………this is so cute i love this….


I got the word that this amazing woman was putting on a show the next week, something about people in bags, in black bags, and it was going to be a bit of a happening and all that. So I went to a preview the night before it opened. I went in — she didn’t know who I was or anything — and I was wandering around. There were a couple of artsy-type students who had been helping, lying around there in the gallery, and I was looking at it and was astounded. There was an apple on sale there for two hundred quid; I thought it was fantastic. I didn’t have too have much knowledge about avant-garde or underground art, the humor got me straightaway. There was a fresh apple on a stand — this was before Apple — and it was two hundred quid to watch the apple decompose. But there was another piece that really decided me for-or-against the artist: a ladder which led to a painting which was hung on the ceiling. It looked like a black canvas with a chain with a spyglass hanging on the end of it. This was near the door when you went in. I climbed the ladder, you look through the spyglass and in tiny little letters it says ‘yes’. So it was positive. I felt relieved. It’s a great relief when you get up the ladder and you look through the spyglass and it doesn’t say 'no’ or 'fuck you’ or something, it said 'yes’.
… And she came up and handed me a card which said 'breathe’ on it, one of her instructions, so I just went [pant]. This was our meeting. — John Lennon

Happy birthday, Yoko Ono.

frostysky  asked:

i dont exactly remember if i had say this before but i really really love your art!! your style is so unique and your drawings have something that inspires a lot, how you use lights and environments i can tell they have feelings and i can feel them too! i can go out your gallery for hours and watch every details, so keep your hard work!! youre awesome!

aaaaAAAA thank you so muchh ;v;


Rating: T

Summary: It should have just been an interesting trip to an art gallery. But with the mystery of the long missing artist and artwork that almost seems to move, they might have found more than they ever bargained for. (Ib crossover)

A/N: Ib crossover! Highly recommend the game, it is amazing but hopefully you don’t have to play to read this ♥ Joint project with @garrulousgibberish​ (Look at that amazing art homg I have been staring at it so much)

Chapter 1: Lost and Found

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anonymous asked:

Hey-o, 17 male, native. I've been told I have K Pop hair? Big dorky glasses. I'm awkward but I will try to fill up the quiet spaces with puns and doodles. I like all sorts of music and down to do anything really. My ideal date would be like the movies or to go to a art gallery, maybe coffee? I'm a easily pleased person honestly, and I'm broke so I would be okay with just eating ramen and watching YouTube videos. I'm just curious to see if you would date me or not.

Ramen and youtube sounds absolutely perfect tbh but art galleries and movies are fun too! you and your big dorky glasses sound lovely anon~

describe yourself to me on anon and I’ll say if I’d date you!

Some Ideas

Mabel knows her brain is messed up and is super proactive about doing stuff about it. At first, it’s really scary, but she’s the first one to ask their parents if she can start counseling because certain shades of pink make her space out and she may have had a panic attack because a really cute girl asked her out to homecoming and the words too good to be true wouldn’t stop buzzing around in her head. 

Mabel’s a lucid dreamer. She knows when she’s dreaming and she can control it. It’s a very familiar feeling. She tries to make her dreams into places she knows aren’t real, weird art galleries with twisting blown-glass slides and gold toilets and weird hamster tubing all around. She tries not to imagine people there so she won’t forget and think its real. 

Lucid dreamers are super susceptible to sleep paralysis so she finds out that sucks pretty fast. Sometimes she sleeps in the bathtub with a comforter because it’s something cool and weird and really real. 

Mabel tries to deal with all of this brain and dream stuff and mostly manages to function. It makes her sad that her parents admit they hadn’t noticed anything off at all when she tells them she needs therapy. They ask if they shouldn’t let the two of them go away for the summer again and Mabel tells them she can’t not go. That would make it worse for her. 

Mabel grows up in waiting rooms with outdated carpeting, bad magazines, and those cool slider toys that she refuses to grow out of. She’s very open with her therapist, who takes all the weird stories in her stride, mostly believing that they are parts of dreams that Mabel’s anxiety manifests through. Mabel makes calming jars and blanket forts and all the cutesy stuff, because it’s fun and it makes her feel safe. 

She looks for imperfections when she’s disassociating. Ugly colors, a crooked line of stitching on her clothes, the fraying curtains in the waiting room. She collects the cast off sculptures from her school’s art class and has a weird corner dedicated to them in her room. Uncute things make her feel comfortable. 

When she feels really bad and Dipper’s around, they plan a big dang road trip for when they graduate high school. They’ve been talking about how they’re not going to be together forever, but they’ll work to not lose each other. 

They talk about ugly vans and inviting Pacifica, Candy, and Grenda. They talk about going to the worst tourist traps in the country and all the tacky bumper stickers they’re going to get. They’re scared of a lot of things that are different and they try to talk about that. 

Dipper doesn’t want to go to therapy and that makes Mabel sad. She has him write stuff down and she has mock sessions with him so that she can “learn the art of healing word things” for herself. 

Mabel never has dreams about the road trip. Or about therapy or earnestly ugly things or her family. She dreams colors and ugly-cute and being alone. 

She likes to try to make miniatures of the places in her dreams. Her fear of stop motions long cast aside, she thinks about making stories for those places she builds in mindscape and styrofoam. 

The stories are sad and ugly and alone. And they make her feel a little less of each of those things. 

GREEK MYTHOLOGY DREAMCAST → Kat Graham as Modern Day Ariadne, Wife of Dionysus, Goddess of Passion, Labyrinths, & Paths

She has the entirety of New York City’s labyrinthine streets and alleys memorized by heart, There’s not a single crack, crevice, hotdog stand, essentric art gallery, or boutique that she isn’t aware of. On weekends, she gathers all the misfits, the outcasts, the women who were abandoned by the men they so loyally dote on, the women who spent the week working hard only to have men take credit for their successes; the women who have been told their whole lives where their rightful place in the world lies, knowing exactly where to find them because she once dwelt there too, and she leads them all out of their private traps with the same path she took to find her own freedom: the path of self love and self celebration. 

Who is this woman, you might ask? She used to be a woeful princess, left to die on an island by a man who couldn’t handle the brightness of her fires, but just like the hyrdra, in death she came back biting twice as hard as before. She is no longer a princess– not even a queen. She is a maenad, a loving companion to The Liberator, Dionysus, and anyone who believes she is simply the mortal wife of a god quickly realizes that she, with her leadership, her smarts, her charm, and her killer pumps, makes a name for herself. She is not Mrs. Dionysus. She is Ariadne, a goddess forged by her own hand, and she will teach you how to do the same.