angle rambles


idk why i’m posting this here but,,,,,,,my choir went on a little tour a couple of months back and i just got a hold of one the videos my roommate took when she came to see..(catch a solo from ya girl at :48) anyway it’s a really pretty song and i just…yea lmAo ok i’m just gonna post this and stop rambling.

Shawn Jackson and Hasse Bernfield, better known as Whit and Slug.  These two are Nana’s adopted grandsons, and certified little shits– ESPECIALLY Whit.  Both of them have spent most of their lives on the planet too.

Whit came to the planet with their (rich) family to live in one of the colony.  They got their nickname because of the old Whitworth rifle they carried around: it’s a family heirloom and they would always brag that they would inherit it and use it one day.  They’re kind of annoying, 110% sass, and a joker.  It was them who told Nana all that dumb shit that she totally believes.

Slug’s parents died in a mining accident and he became a bit of an outcast in the community.  He wouldn’t let anyone near him and ended up bullying kids out of food and money.  When he tried to steal from Whit, an outcast in their own right, they became fast friends.  He got his name from his weapon of choice: the shotgun.

Also Whit is totally pining for Slug.

A favorite memory of a figure drawing class I had was when an artist friend of my professor came by for a visit.

My professor asked if he could advise us on some art tips and he straight up told us to look up porn and proceeded to show us pictures on the projector (not porn but just women in raunchy poses), because they had complex foreshortening and contortions. He had the biggest grin on his face.

Meanwhile my professor became flustered and she shouted at him, “don’t tell my students to look up porn!”. Haha.

I mean…he’s right. They do provide some… Interesting perspectives one won’t find a regular model posing.

Aw man, I had a great fic idea last night when I was falling asleep and I was like “ooh yeah I’m totally going to write that” but I cannot remember at all what it was.


I found, while making my Alive 2007 masterpost a few weeks ago, that I had been missing a lot of the images on the pyramid during the Alive shows, as in most videos the camera doesn’t have the dynamic range to cover both the stage and the pyramid LEDs!

Anyway, what was most exciting to discover was what was projected on the pyramid screens during the encore! The show has taken on new meaning for me after seeing this up close. First they cycle through several images of people, smiling. Then comes colorful renderings of human anatomy– skeletons, the circulatory system, organs, etc. Then, as the lights from “Together” shift from purple to red, the pyramid screens move through red-tinged CT or MRI scans, shifting through the cross-sections, which finally merge into a single beam of light that travels through the Versa tube array, up the pyramid, and presumably into the robots themselves.

I think Daft Punk really likes the idea of humanity versus technology, and especially what it means to be human. This concept is just incredibly well-executed and ugh I am so blown away by all of it.

Day 21 of InkTober is N’Doul

i couldnt hold it in anymore i had to draw him i dunno why i like this guy as much as i do


I was supposed to share my Shell Eco-Marathon teams promo video before we went to London, but I forgot. Anyway if you ever wondered how I look without makeup, with the worst angle imaginable and rambling here is your chance I guess… 

anonymous asked:

I was leafing through your blog (not stalking, not at all) when I had to ask: are you still fond of the Kili/Tauriel ship?

I am, immensely.

I think alot about that scene at the lakeside, when kili says you make me feel alive and amralime, and tauriel gasps, tauriel scrabbles for space, for distance, for some semblance of objectivity, because—someone must, someone must be sensible, she must be sensible—love does not warp the world around it it is an accident of the heart in a world of knives, and she would not see him bloodied to ribbons in her name; she is water, she shapes herself to the stones she flows around, elven-kings and woodland princes and her own exile, only—

only he gives her shape, a promise-stone meant for his mother, he sees her, as she is, calm and clear-eyed and true, and teases her irreverently despite her seriousness, he pins her down, makes her stay, makes her real, and when he says I am not afraid it is because he is not, because she does not give an inch and so he will not either, will not apologize.

(he is so young, and he does not truly see any of the obstacles in their path, does not even really know how to see them but he looks up at her with starlight reflected in his eyes and sincerity enough to shatter a heart when he smiles, says come with me, Tauriel gives it weight, thinks about kissing him, about lowering her mouth to his and—

she does not kiss him until he is cold on a mountainside, until he cannot kiss her back and she cries unlovely, wracking tears because nothing has hurt as this does—they have known one another less than a week and still she was real to him, she was something true and piercing and he loved her, and she might have loved him, they might have built a home halfway between starlight and the earth, they might have been something, but he is cold in the snow, beyond her reaching, and not even legolas will comfort her)

(kili dies with her name on his lips, this elf-maiden he had not meant to love except her hair shone like carnelian and there was starlight in her eyes and she had stayed, she had made him alive again, she had—she had made him feel as no dwarf maid ever had, as thought there was a purpose to reclaiming erebor, more than the dream of his uncle and his mother, more than stories and songs and starlight, but—the thought of having a place near her, a home

she is cold as stone but she warms at his hand like stone too, and he refuses to see the obstacles in his way, cannot hear what his kinsmen would say if any of the line of durin dared to cross the boundaries of race and bring an elf-woman into their line. She has hair like carnelian and is water, is a weapon, she is all kili has ever wanted.

he dies for her, in the end, and goes before mahal without shame, certain of his choice, without fear. She is his people too, he claims her, in the sight of any—let others worry over law, and custom, he knows his own heart, and what it wants.)

he falls, unflinching, and she hopes, unstinting, and I will never not love the accident of them, their collision course with each other. It is not necessarily true love, but it is sincere wanting and desire, and that is enough

it is enough



“This node is caught in a loop trying to access something it’s calling ‘the Domain’, an offworld data repository of some kind, though I’m only able to extract bits and pieces of the complete exchange…”

look at this crappy photo of photo I took on the floor because I’m too lazy to take a real one or scan it. ignore how ugly I look, pay attention to their faces not mine also dylan signed it on the wrong side but whatever he said sorry so it’s all good.