People who don’t draw or paint will never understand how much you pour yourself into each piece you do and how they all contain little pieces of you… how you were feeling, who you loved, what inspired you, what you wanted most in the world… they’ll never understand what’s in your piece except for the basic aesthetic value.
Sun: tend to buy expensive things or, at least, things that makes them look like they were better than you. Their identity is reflected on what they posses. They feel whorty through this house, so it’s normal that these people tend to accumulate things. Value their wealth as their life.
Moon: tend to buy things and then feel guilty. Their financial stability is like the phases of the moon: constant change and, at the same time, follows a cycle. The NEED financial security. If a material good (of any sort) is missing, it’ll affect directly to their feelings. They tend to buy confort items.
Mercury: tend to buy things related to knowledge, technology and basically trends. They tend to be flighty and in constant change so what’s today may not be tomorrow. However, they’re very clever about the financial world and earning money.
Venus: CLOTHES AND MAKEUP and everything that makes them look better (this is very subjective, you may don’t consider makeup as a need in order to feel beautiful so you skip that part. Think about what you buy and makes you feel flawless). They may a bit too shallow and being a compulsive buyer. They value beautiful things and show them off all the fucking day. Also they love to buy gifts for their friends and lovers!!
Mars: tend to buy things impulsively, often driven by a whim or sort of “competition”. They tend to risk their financial security in if they think the invertion will work (and they have high self-steem so they think it’ll always work out for them). Their possesions are linked to their anger, so don’t!take!their!things!away!
Jupiter: tend to buy A LOT. Useless shit, exotic things, extravagant gifts, whatever, they buy it. They have this unconscious idea that everything will be okay tomorrow, so they try to help meanwhile: giving loans to everyone, spending in gifts for their friends, giving fancy parties, etc. They just don’t care, because they bank accounts are constantly full, for some reason.
Saturn: do they buy something actually? They work hard in order to have financial security but when the moment comes, they feel constricted and only buy the basic things. They just don’t want fancy parties or expensive gifts, they only want their bank accounts full and their family happy.
Uranus: your local snob. Tend to buy things that make them feel cultivated~ Value “culture” and weird art. That, or maybe they may be your local commie who feels “trapped” in Capitalism and its material world. Whatever the kind of Uranus, they’re still in constant change, like their bank accounts.
Neptune:tend to buy too many things or nothing at all. May buy things in order to fill their “emptiness”. Buy useless shit or pieces of art. At the end of the day, they value intangible things more than their material goods.
Pluto: buy what they need to live. They’re overprotective over their material goods and tend to go through moments of poverty and then financial stability. Basically their bank accounts are a rollercoaster. Don’t try to make them risk their wealth, you already know the answer.
When I think of art, I think of beauty. Beauty is the mystery of
life. It is not in the eye, it is in my mind. In our minds there
is awareness of perfection.
We respond to beauty with emotion. Beauty speaks a message to
us. We are confused about this message because of distractions.
Sometimes we even think that it is in the mail. The message is
about different kinds of happiness and joy. Joy is most
successfully represented in Beethoven's Ninth Symphony and by
All artwork is about beauty; all positive work represents it and
celebrates it. All negative art protests the lack of beauty in
our lives. When a beautiful rose dies, beauty does not die
because it is not really in the rose. Beauty is an awareness in
the mind. It is a mental and emotional response that we make. We
respond to life as though it were perfect. When we go into a
forest we do not see the fallen rotting trees. We are inspired
by a multitude of uprising trees. We even hear a silence when it
is not really silent. When we see a newborn baby we say it is
beautiful – perfect.
The goal of life is happiness and to respond to life as though
it were perfect is the way to happiness. It is also the way to
It is not in the role of an artist to worry about life – to feel
responsible for creating a better world. This is a very serious
distraction. All your conditioning has been directed toward
intellectual living. This is useless in artwork. All human
knowledge is useless in artwork. Concepts, relationships,
categories, classifications, deductions are distractions of mind
that we wish to hold free for inspiration.
There are two parts of the mind. The outer mind that records
facts and the inner mind that says "yes" and "no." When you
think of something that you should do, the inner mind says "yes"
and you feel elated. We call this inspiration.
For an artist this is the only way. There is no help anywhere.
He must listen to his own mind.
The way of the artist is an entirely different way. It is a way
of surrender. He must surrender to his own mind.
When you look in your mind you find it covered with a lot of
rubbishy thoughts. You have to penetrate these and hear what
your mind is telling you to do. Such work is original work. All
other work made from ideas is not inspired and is not artwork.
Artwork is responded to with happy emotions. Work about ideas is
responded to with other ideas. There is so much written about
art that it is mistaken for an intellectual pursuit.
It is quite commonly thought that the intellect is responsible
for everything that is made and done. It is commonly thought
that everything that is can be put into words. But there is a
wide range of emotional response that we make that cannot be put
into words. We are so used to making these emotional responses
that we are not consciously aware of them until they are
represented in artwork.
Out emotional life is really dominant over our intellectual
life, but we do not realize it.
You must discover the artwork that you like, and realize the
response that you make to it. You must especially know the
response that you make to your own work. It is in this way that
you discover your direction and the truth about yourself. If you
do not discover your response to your own work, you miss the
reward. You must look at the work and know how it makes you
If you are not an artist, you can make discoveries about
yourself by knowing your response to work that you like.
Ask yourself, What kind of happiness do I feel with this music
or this picture?
There is happiness that we feel without any material
stimulation. We may wake up in the morning feeling happy for no
reason. Abstract or nonobjective feelings are a very important
part of our lives. Personal emotions and sentimentality are
We make artwork as something that we have to do, not knowing how
it will work out. When it is finished we have to see if it is
effective. Even if we obey inspiration we cannot expect all the
work to be successful. An artist is a person who can recognize
If you were a composer you would not expect everything you
played to be a composition. It iss the same in the graphic arts.
There are many failures.
Artwork is the only work in the world that is unmaterialistic.
All other work contributes to human welfare and comfort. You can
see from this that human welfare and comfort are not the
interests of the artist. He is irresponsible because his life
goes in a different direction. His mind will be involved with
beauty and happiness. It is possible to work at something other
than art and maintain this state of mind and be moving ahead as
an artist. The unmaterial interest is essential.
The newest trend and the art scene are unnecessary distractions
for a serious artist. He will much more rewarded responding to
art of all times and places – not as art history but considering
each piece and its value to him.
You can't think, My life is more important than the work, and
get the work. You have to think the work is paramount in your
life. An artist's life is adventurous: one new thing after
I have been talking directly to artists, but it applies to all.
Take advantage of the awareness of perfection in your mind. See
perfection in everything around you. See if you can discover
your true feelings when listening to music. Make happiness your
goal. The way to discover the truth about this life is to
discover yourself. Say to yourself, What do I like and what do I
want? Find out exactly what you want in life. Ask your mind for
inspiration about everything.
Beauty illustrates happiness: the wind in the grass, the
glistening waves following each other, the flight of birds – all
speak of happiness.
The clear blue sky illustrates a different kind of happiness,
and the soft dark night a different kind. There are an infinite
number of different kinds of happiness.
The response is the same for the observer as it is for the
artist. The response to art is the real art field.
Composition is an absolute mystery. It is dictated by the mind.
The artist searchers for certain sounds or lines that are
acceptable to the mind and finally an arrangement of them that
is acceptable. The acceptable compositions arouse certain
feelings of appreciation in the observer. Some compositions
appeal to some, and some to others.
But if they are not accepted by the artist's mind, they will not
appeal to anyone. Composition and acceptance by mind are
essential to artwork. Commercial art is consciously made to
appeal to the senses, which is different. Artwork is very
valuable and it is also very scarce. It takes a great deal of
application to make a composition that is totally acceptable.
Beethoven's symphonies, with every note composed, represent a
titanic human effort.
To progress in life you must give up the things that you do not
like. Give up doing the things that you do not like to do. You
must find the things that you do like – the things that are
acceptable to your mind.
You can see that you will have to have time to yourself to find
out what appeals to your mind. While you go along with others,
you are not really living your life.
To rebel against others is just as futile. You must find your
Happiness is being on the beam with life – to feel the pull of
You were pretty sure you were on your way to an ice-skating rink despite how many times Chris assured you you weren’t. You knew your boyfriend, so even after he blinded folded you, you knew he was taking you ice-skating. It wouldn’t have been as obvious if he didn’t react the way he did when you told him you didn’t know how to ice-skate; the gleam in his eye did not go unnoticed. So of course you knew what he was up to when he told you he was taking you out for a secret adventure the next morning.
“Just a little further, babe.” Chris told you as he carefully led you across the parking lot, stopping now and then for the cars. “I’m actually quite enjoying this,” he chuckled softly then explained before you could ask what he was talking about. “Having you be completely dependent on me, it’s kind of cute.” You chuckled. “I mean- I could definitely do this for the rest of my life.”
“I can be dependent on you without the blindfold, Evans.” You quipped and he chuckled. “I really don’t like this, I feel like-” You stumbled because you’d tricked your mind into thinking there was a step when there wasn’t. “Like I’m going to trip on something. Can I please take this off now?”
“Maybe just trust me?” He chuckled. “You know I’d never let anything happen to you,” he told you and you smiled. “You’re like a piece of art, once damaged the value goes down.” He added in a teasing tone and you rolled your eyes. “Even blindfolded,” he laughed, “I can still see you rolling your eyes at me.”
“Just let me take it off, you dork.” You tried to slap his arm but got his chest instead. “It’s not like I don’t know where we’re going,” you told him with another roll of your eyes. “I’ve known where we were going even before you blindfolded me.”
“No you don’t, and no you didn’t.” He countered even though he knew you did; you’d been dating for over two years now, so the two of you were extremely astute when it came to the other. “Now stop whining and let me lead you, or I’m going to have to throw you over my shoulder.”
“You know I don’t think being carried is a punishment, right?”
“I know,” he chuckled, “but I also know you get embarrassed easily. This is a fairly crowded place so…” He trailed off, smirking when you scoffed. “I think I have the upper hand here, don’t you?” He teased as he continued to lead you, this time actually into the building. The blast of cold air and the chatter in the vicinity confirmed your theory, that you were in fact at an ice-skating rink.
“I think you’re insane if you think I’m going to do any ice-skating today.” You told him and he took off the blindfold, laughing loudly. “Chris,” you chuckled and playfully slapped his arm. “I didn’t tell you I didn’t know how to ice-skate so you could take me ice-skating, the point of the story was to not take me ice-skating.”
“Surely you knew that wasn’t going to happen,” he smiled and took your hand in his. “C'mon, it’ll be fun.” He pulled you with him to the counter so the two of you could get some skates; you sighed audibly. “Captain America is offering you an ice-skating lesson, the least you can do is smile.” He teased and you chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, I’m going to catch you if you fall.”
“You bet your ass you will,” you poked his side and he chuckled. “God help you if I fall and chip a tooth or something,” you quipped and his laughter grew louder. “I may not be in the acting business like you, but my physical appearance is still something I treasure greatly.”
“No wonder you look so pretty all the time,” he booped your nose and you chuckled. “Don’t you worry, bug, that’s not going to happen. Captain America’s got your back, there’s no way he’s letting anything bad happen to his girl.” You shot him a weary look and he laughed. “Alright, don’t shoot me.” You cracked a smile. “In all seriousness,” he wrapped an arm around you, “if anything did happen to your perfect teeth- Dad’s got your back so you have nothing to worry about.”
“How about we just make sure I don’t fall and knock all my teeth out?”
“Yeah, I guess that’ll work too,” he chuckled.
The two of you got some skates and proceeded towards the rink after strapping them on. It was thankfully not as crowded as Chris had said it was, so at least if you fell and made a fool of yourself- it was only going to be seen by a few. Chris got onto the ice first before holding out his hands for you to take, you watched them hesitantly and he chuckled.
“Don’t be such a baby, baby.” He wiggled his hands, beckoning for yours. “C'mon, I promise I won’t let you fall. Think back, have I ever let anything bad happen to you?” He quizzed then added, chuckling, before you could remind him, “that doesn’t count, and I fell too so-” You rolled your eyes. “Oh come on,” he laughed. “How was I meant to know you were so hopeless in nature?”
“Maybe when I told you I’m hopeless in nature?” You countered, chuckling. “And the fact that I told you I’m hopeless at ice-skating should tell you how this story is going to end. So can we just-” you started to walk backwards, “quit while we’re ahead and go do something else?”
“No,” he chuckled and came after you, grabbing your hands before you could make a run for it. “Give me half an hour, if you still want to go after that- we can go. We can grab some food and catch a movie, whatever you want. Have we got a deal?” He asked as you contemplated. “It’s only half an hour of your life, Y/N.” He reminded you.
“Fine,” you sighed and he smiled, leading you back towards the rink. “The things I do for you, Chris Evans.” He chuckled as he helped you onto the ice. “They say ‘never meet your heroes’, they should probably change that to ‘never date your celebrity crush’ 'cause the things they’re capable of making- Oh, fuck!” You cussed as your foot slipped.
“Relax,” Chris chuckled, stabilizing you before you fell. “I’ve got you,” he squeezed your hands tightly. “Now skate, left right left right.” You did as he instructed. “See, it’s not that- Oops,” he caught you in his arms as you fell forward. “Told you I’d catch you,” he chuckled.
“Can we skate closer to the wall?” You asked and he nodded, leading the two of you over to the wall. “How do you make it look so easy?” You chuckled softly when he shrugged. “Is there anything you’re bad at, Evans?” You teased him and he smiled. “You’re just perfect, aren’t you?”
“You know, they warned me about dating you.” He joked and you chuckled. “You’re a fan, a writer, and a hopeless romantic. Your standards are-” he chuckled, “ridiculously hard to live up to. I mean- come on, even I’m jealous of your version of Chris Evans.”
“You are my version of Chris Evans,” you pulled yourself closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. He smiled and kissed you, smiling wider when you kissed him back. “Though…” You began as you broke the kiss. “My Chris Evans wouldn’t force me to ice-skate.” He laughed louder at that. “But minor detail,” you giggled.
“You know what,” he pulled your arms off his neck and skated away from you, leaving you to grab hold of the side. “Why don’t you call your Chris Evans to come rescue you?” He teased and you scoffed, smiling. “If he’s so great, I’m sure he’ll come as soon as you call.”
“I’m going to kill you,” you threatened playfully.
“Come get me then,” he stopped at a distance, near enough to rush over if you fell but far enough for you to have to skate over to him. “C'mon, Black Widow. I’m right here, come kill me.” He teased, beckoning you over with his hands. “Unless…” he smirked, “you can’t 'cause you’re scared.” He pouted mockingly then laughed when you flipped him off.
“I hate you so much,” you told him and he nodded in acknowledgment, smiling. You took a deep breath then slowly loosened your grip on the wall, balancing yourself before you clumsily half-shuffled-half-skated across the ice towards him. He watched you with a huge grin, happy you were giving it a try despite how scared you obviously were of falling. “Chris!” You called as you started to lose your balance.
“Gotcha,” he caught you and pulled you into his arms before you hit the ground.
“Guess my Chris Evans didn’t need a call after all,” you teased and he laughed.
She’d been staring at that painting for forty minutes. At least thats how long he assumed she had been; he’d been staring at her staring for around the same time. It’s what got his attention. He wondered how long did it take for impressionism to go from dots to a bigger picture to dots again, and settled onto the low, padded bench to ask her.
As an art critic, he often felt like he was making it up as he went along.
“Committing it to memory before someone punches it?”
She glanced at him over the rim of her glasses. “What?”
“The Monet. Another 8 Million Dollar painting with the canvas caved in. Are you appreciating this one before it’s gone?”
She adjusted her glasses and turned back towards the peaceful daytime scene. “I actually think the one in the Irish National Gallery looked better punched. The seams of the canvas are so straight, where the fabric was thin, you remember it’s just a thing in a frame that can be broken, that human hands made it and not some divine talent; because it’s just a thing and things can be destroyed.”
He tried not to roll his eyes. She drew her jacket primly around herself. It was warm in this room, but her gloves remained on. He scooted closer on the bench, hoping she wouldn’t notice. She did, but said nothing.
“Surely you have to have an opinion about the violent destruction of art?”
The brunette beside him, as much as he wanted to pretend this was a casual, slightly glamorous hook-up between strangers at The Tate, snorted to herself, revealing to be very much the partner he’d had for years. She put on her best gallery owner voice; “I just think it prompts an interesting contradiction. We can’t violate art because it is sacred, but when it is violated, an exact price tag is attached, so it is worth a specific amount and not “priceless”, therefore, if it can be bought and valued, is it still sacred?”
They’d had arguments like this before, side by side on a bench in a famous art museum, any in the world, looking straight at the painting and not each other. It was like foreplay.
While he was sometimes making up his art theory as he went along, she definitely was. He’d seen her insist a mustard stain on a stolen Vermeer was part of the painting, and nearly chipped the paint taking it off, prompting Bodhi to almost have a heart before he even got his tool kit open to restore it.
“You’re on an anti-capitalist stint,” he observed, staring at the calm blue waters ahead.
She tilted her head, considering the piece from a slightly fresh angle. “Suffragettes would deface paintings. Women without male escorts were banned from the British museum because a woman attacked a painting with an axe. They smashed windows, disrupted operas, because they weren’t able to own any of these things, and they couldn’t be disillusioned by things, because they weren’t given the privilege to own them. What a statement. How do you appreciate the worth of things when their value is meaningless to you? An art piece making that exact statement could turn around and sell for millions of dollars, and then where are you? Violations of the terms of art are a deeply entrenched part of any rebellion.”
“Jyn,” he grumbled, barely moving his mouth so the words wouldn’t carry far. For her ears only. “We can’t steal it if it’s not worth anything.”
She sighed, agitated. “Yes, I know we’re stealing it, I’m just- let me appreciate the art first, okay?”
Hey everyone! I thought I would share my painting process with you all. I hope it is both simple, and informative! I cannot emphasize the importance of the value thumbnail stage enough–it really defines the mood of the whole piece, and is the foundation for all later stages. If you want to improve your ability to use value, contrast, and lighting to your advantage I suggest doing studies similar to my cinematography studies here.
Recently I had an incident where a notorious dragon art thief snatched some of my work and re-posted it without credit. Luckily I tend to paste a watermark over all my art and use the creative commons license on DA. So it was easy for people to track the art back to me and inform me it was stolen.
The irritating part was that I had to fill out take down requests on three different websites because this person was posting my work in several places. Tumblr ended up being one of the places.
So far the only website that has diligently processed the take-down request and honored it is Tumblr. They were on the ball, and got back to me the very next day. The art has been taken down, and I appreciate the quick action. Thank you so much Tumblr.
That aside, I urge my fellow artists to make use of watermarks. Big ones, ones that don’t just include names but urls back to where you originally posted the art. Watermarks should NOT be discouraged. If someone complains about a watermark on your art it is because they don’t see the value in the art piece. They want to view it, or use it, or what have you, and they don’t want the watermark there. If anyone respected You and Your art they would also respect your watermark. And if they want the art with out a big fat watermark then they should Pay for it. Because your art is worth something, no matter how crappy you might think it is.
Why do we sign artworks? Does signing prevent forgery? No. But it is an effective precaution and gives authentic and nostalgic value to the piece.
#artwork #signature #artist #art #studio #artisticprocesses #artistsstudio #contemporaryart #shippingtheart
Oftentimes painting in China will feature an assortment of bright stamps. This includes the stamp of the original artist, but there are also stamps from owners of the painting, people who have restored it, wealthy nobles who have viewed it, and even occasionally a stamp from an art critic that approves of the piece.
The idea of stamping art runs against Western values, and many Western art historians recoil at the idea of putting a mark on a precious painting. No one would stamp a Monet, for instance. However, in China, where history and the past is valued to a far deeper extent than in the West, these stamps add to the complex historical background of the piece. It adds to the richness of the piece to notice that a certain emperor once looked at the same image with his own eyes.
Autumn Colors on the Ch'iao and Hua Mountains, Zhao Mengfu
Wednesday, June 3, at 6:30 p.m., the National Archives at Kansas City
will host Dr. John Curatola for a talk on “Props and Pin-Ups: Nose Art
in World War II.”
The use of nose art was common on military aircraft
during the Second World War. Painted on the fuselages of many of the
belligerent air forces aircraft, these stand-alone pieces
of art reflected aircrews’ values and attitudes. Messages and pictures
painted on these aircraft are not only a rich military legacy, but
provide insight into the time, temperament, and men who flew and
Curatola will address the various influences, national
trends, and general themes of this unique element of military history.
The presentation will show nose art in its original form and in
historical context, which includes partial nudity.
To make a reservation for this free program, email email@example.com or call 816-268-8010.
“Please be careful with that,” the blonde woman yelled as the men in charge of the painting she had just bought were hauling it in their van.
It was going right to her expert, to make sure it was an authentic, not that she had any doubt. Giorgio always delivered what he promised and he was like a never ending gold mine. She stayed outside long enough to see them leave and she didn’t miss the half annoyed look on their face. Some people didn’t understand the value of such piece of art and it was rarely a value that came with a number.
Going on as if nothing happened, as if the last weeks were nothing, working like this was good for her mind. I provided some relief and quiet, it occupied it with things that were mundane. It was a good day, at least until her now too sensible nose picked up a scent that turned her stomach around. “What’s that horrible smell? Of course no one else seems bothered by it,” she mumbled to herself with a hand to her mouth, trying to suppress the wave of nausea. It was barely audible, one would need some special kind of hearing to hear her. Concerned looks were thrown at her, or so she thought.