crepe paper

What’s Up for August 2017

The total solar eclipse on August 21 will trace a narrow path across the nation, although most of the U.S. will see a partial eclipse. Here’s what to do before, during and after the eclipse, plus how you can become a citizen scientist helping us with eclipse observations.

Not everyone can travel to the path of totality, so here are some things you can do whether you see totality or a partial eclipse. 

Collecting Citizen Science

Want to be a citizen scientist? 

Before the eclipse, make and pack your very own eclipse toolkit, containing a notebook, pen, a clock, a stopwatch, the front page of a newspaper, a thermometer, and a stick with a piece of crepe paper tied to it. Don’t forget your assistant, who will help conduct science observations. 

Practice using a citizen scientist phone app, like our GLOBE app to study clouds, air and surface temperatures and other observations. Go to the location where you plan to observe the eclipse and check for any obstructions. You may want to focus on only one activity as the eclipse will last less than 3 minutes … or just really experience the eclipse. 

Cell phones don’t take eclipse video! And plan to have your safe eclipse-viewing glasses within reach for before and after totality. Just before totality, if you have a good view of the horizon, look west to see the approaching shadow. After totality, look east low on the horizon for the departing shadow.

During totality, look for stars. You should be able to see the star Regulus in the solar corona or the stars of Orion.

During totality, we may see moving bands of shadows, like on the bottom of a swimming pool.

How dark does it get at totality? Look at the newspaper you brought with you. What is the smallest print you can read?

How much does the temperature drop? Does the wind stop or change direction?

Use your hands, a sheet of paper with a hole in it, a kitchen colander or any other object with one or more holes to use as a pinhole projector. You’ll be able to see the crescent shape of the sun projected through the holes.

Find out more about the eclipse, including eclipse safety, at https://eclipse2017.nasa.gov

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com

shakespeare aesthetics

romeo and juliet: suburban july. scraped knees, bruised knuckles, blood in your teeth. bare feet on hot concrete. restlessness. your high school’s empty parking lot. love poems in your diary. a window open to coax in a breeze. burning inside. an ill-fitting party dress, a t-shirt you cut up yourself, the time you tried to give yourself bangs. biking to your friend’s house. bubble gum. gas station ice. the feeling that you’ve met before. rebellion. a car radio playing down the street. cheap fireworks. a heart drawn on the inside of your wrist with sharpie. switchblades. red solo cups. dancing in your bedroom. screaming yourself hoarse. running out of options. the forlorn-looking basketball hoop at the end of the cul-de-sac. climbing onto your roof at night while your parents are asleep. flip-flops. a eulogy written on looseleaf. the merciless noontime sun.

hamlet: speaking in a whisper. holding your breath. a browning garden. a half-remembered story. furniture covered with sheets. fog at dawn, mist at twilight. losing touch. the ethereal space between winter and spring. the soft skin at your temple. the crack in the hallway mirror. things you’d say if you knew the words. uncombed hair. books with writing in the margins, books with cracked spines, books with lines scratched out. prayers on all souls’ day. a chipped ceramic bathtub. a cold stone floor. uncomfortable awareness of your own heartbeat. the sparrow that got in your house. shadows. the creek you played in as a child. a dirty night gown. a big black t-shirt. a collection of your favorite words. soil under your nails. ghost stories. the strangeness of your own name in your mouth. deep silence. exhaustion. a cliff with a long, long drop down.

twelfth night: wicker deck furniture. new england summer. big dark sunglasses and a blonde bob. a storm over the ocean, patio umbrellas flapping in the wind. chlorine smell. muffled laughter. sarcasm. starched cuffs. day drinking. bay windows. the idea of love, love for the idea of love, love for love’s sake. hangovers. wandering over the sand dunes. a vagabond with a guitar, a crab fisherman with tattoos, a pretty boy with a slackened tie. a light house. growing too close. boat shoes. feeling yourself change. finger guns. big floppy sun hats. double-speak. a song you keep listening to. turning red under their gaze. margaritas drunk on an inflatable pool lounger. string lights on a balmy night. sleepy june days. fights you’re unprepared for, hope you weren’t expecting, pranks that go too far. bad poetry. pining. pool noodles. becoming less of a stranger.

macbeth: the space where your grief used to be. a bird that’s lost an eye. old blood stains. heavy blinds. the smell of sweat, the stillness after battle. a fake smile. a curse. the taste of metal at the back of your tongue. your house, unfamiliar in the dark. a dusty crib. a sulfur smell. an orange pill bottle. streaks in the sink. a black cocktail dress. your hand on the doorknob, shaking. chilly breeze. crunching from the gravel driveway on a moonless night. clenched hands. a rusty swing set. a flashing digital clock stuck on 12:00. a snake that crosses your path, an owl that watches you, a dog that runs when you approach. red smoke. dark clouds. cool steel. tile floors. footsteps in the hallway late at night. a baggy suit that used to fit before. visions. insomnia headaches. nursery rhymes. being too far in to go back now. 

much ado about nothing: the high drama of small towns. a pickup truck, military supply duffel bags in the hall, hugs all around. tulip bulbs. a wraparound porch, a pitcher of iced tea. barbecue. a rubber halloween mask. someone on your level. indian summer. ill-timed proclamations. stomach-clutching laughter. rushing in. not minding your business. crepe paper. white lies. secrets written down and thrown away. southern hospitality. homemade curtains in the kitchen, a sink full of roses. hiding in the bushes. old friends. the wedding dress your grandma wore, and her mama before her. a dog-eared rhyming dictionary. camomile with honey. the intimacy of big parties. lawn flamingos. gossip. a crowded church. friendly rivalries. unfriendly rivalries. shit getting real. love at five hundredth sight. not realizing you have a home until you’re there. 

king lear: cement block buildings. power lines that birds never perch on. the end of the world. useless words. rainless thunder, heat lightning, a too-big sky. arthritic knuckles. broken glass. chalk cliffs. the pulsing red-black behind closed eyes. something you learned too late. wet mud that sucks up your shoes while you walk. a cold stare. empty picture frames. empty prayers. the obscenity of seeing your parents cry. a treeless landscape. bloody rags. grappling in the dark with reaching hands. the sharpness at the tips of your teeth. the blown-out windows of skeletal houses. decay. jokes that aren’t jokes, shutting up, holding your tongue. prophecies. aching muscles, tired feet. stinging rain. invoking the gods, wondering if the gods are listening, wondering if the gods are dead. white noise. shivers. numbness. the unequivocal feeling of ending.

a midsummer night’s dream: wet soil/dead leaves smell. listening to music on headphones with your eyes closed. wildflowers. the distant sparkle of lightning bugs. a pill somebody slipped you. fear that turns to excitement, excitement that turns to frenzy. mossy tree trunks. a pair of yellow eyes in the darkness. night swimming. moonlight through the leaves. a bass beat in your chest. a butterfly landing on your nose. a kiss from a stranger. a dark hollow in an old tree. glow-in-the-dark paint. drinking on an empty stomach. a twig breaking behind you. spinning until you’re dizzy. finding glitter on your body and not remembering where it came from. an overgrown path through the woods. cool dew on your skin. a dream that fades with waking. moths drawn to the light. giving yourself over, completely. afterglow. the long, loving, velvety night.

‘Jelly Fish’ Stage 4
Acyrlic Collage and Sand on Canvas.
Underwater series


'Meduse’ étape 4
Acrylique, Collage avec du Papier de Soie, et Sable, sur Toile.
Série Sousmarine

Yvonne Rémond Murphy

I am spending more time than I expected on this painting. Acrylic, paper, acrylic, paper….
I may still need a last touch of acrylic tonight, to create more of a feeling of movement.
I already tore off some of the paper stripes, as the lines were too strong.
I am also rethinking the background. Usually I never use really dark colours, however it does offset the shimmery effects of the jellyfish.

🌞Happy spring equinox! 🌞

 Hello babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded. On the outside, babies, you’ve got a hundred years here. There’s only one rule that I know of, babies - God damn it, you’ve got to be kind

Marked One

HELLO! Just a quick thank you to everyone for the amazing response to my first ever reader insert imagine! I am glad you all enjoyed it and I am glad to have given back a little something to this amazing community. 

PROMPT - @spnstarships requested: “Reader gets really sick, does not tell anyone until Bones comes to check because he has not seen her, finds almost dead then saves her.” - Sorry for the delay in posting this, but it took a while to write and I really hope it was the kind of thing you were after :)

PAIRING - Reader X Bones

WARNINGS - Slight cursing, Angsty but also fluffy to in places!

ART: Art drawn and created by the ever talented and amazing @athenarosehunter. You are super talented and this was such a lovely surprise- thank you so much! Keep up your amazing work <3

Marked One

White lights streaked in a steady rhythm above your head, as your body laid parallel on a medical stretcher. Your eyes were heavy as the cold white light reflected off falling dust particles creating an angelic halo around you. The moment would have been so utterly perfect if one figure above you, hadn’t had to consistently slap the side of your face whenever your eyes threatened to give in to the darkness.

“Don’t fall asleep.”

The order had been spoken with a commanding tone, however the subtle worried edge which laced it did not go unnoticed. Frowning towards the shadowy figure, you reached your arm up high; clinging to the blue cloth which surrounded them.

“I don’t know if you’ve had to do this before- but it’s hard.”

The figure blew an amused raspberry, their face turning away as they begun to murmur to the other unfamiliar shadows which lurked around you. Once finished, the silhouette leaned closer; their features forming clearer as you recognised the face before you with relief.

“I take it that the anti hallucinogenic hypo helped then.”

“Leonard?” You interrupted, your hand falling from his shirt and back to your aching chest.

“Good. You recognise me, thats-” Leonard paused as he nodded to himself in determination, a sense of relief seemingly washing over him. “It’s a good sign. Better than earlier.”

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Crepe Paper Peonies

supply overview for single peony:

  • scissors 
  • glue (quick dry glue recommend, but not required) 
  • (2) 9” floral wire (16 - 18 gauge for flower stem and 20 - 22 for stem of leaves are recommend) 
  • 2” strip of lokta paper (8” minimum length) 
  • 5” minimum wide high quality single ply (180 gram) crepe paper for petals (18” minimum length) 
  • 2” minimum wide high quality single ply (180 gram) crepe paper for leaves and stem (18” minimum length)

step 1 - fringe center:

  1. take a 2” strip of lokta paper (minimum 8” length) 
  2. fringe cut ¾ way down the entire strip 
  3. dab glue on the uncut edge of the paper & wrap around floral wire 
  4. move slightly up as you wrap so that the stacking of paper is tiered 
  5. tightly scrunch the fringed center

step 2 - petal sculpting

  1. cut (10) 1” x 3 to 3-1/2” inner layer petals (grain runs with height) 
  2. sculpt the inner layer petals just using cupping technique 
  3. cut (10) 1-1/2” x 3-1/2” outer layer petals (grain runs with height) 
  4. sculpt the outer layer petals using both cupping & fluting technique

step 3 - leaves and stem 

floral tape:

  1. take a 4” wide strip of crepe paper (height may vary & grain runs with height) 
  2. cut several 1/4” strips against the grain

leaves:

  1. approximately 1” x 3” 
  2. sculpt using cupping technique

stem of leaves:

  1. dab glue on the neck of a leaf and securely wrap the leaf around the tip of a new floral wire (20 to 22 gauge) using a strip of floral tape 
  2. continue adding leaves as desired

step 4 - peony building

peony building:
1. inner petal layers:
• take (5) inner layer petals, dab glue on the neck of the petal and
stretch wrap around fringed center (make sure each petal overlaps the
adjacent petal)
• repeat with second set of (5) inner layer petals
outer petal layers:
• take (5) outer layer petals, dab glue on the neck of the petal and pinch
2. wrap around inner layer petals (make sure each petal overlaps the
adjacent petal)
• repeat with second set of (5) inner layer petal
once all (20) petals are securely built around the center, dab glue on one
strip of floral tape & stretch wrap around the neck of the petals
3. dab glue and wrap floral tape (firmly while gently stretching)
4. once the neck of petals are firmly wrapped, add a leaf or two using floral
tape to secure the leaves
5. continue to add leaves down the stem as desired (up to half way down
the stem)

Speak Now, Part 2 (Jughead x Reader)

Part 1

Imagine: You return to Riverdale to confess your feelings for your high school best friend, Jughead Jones, only to find out that he’s engaged.


“You’re… you’re what?” You asked, your face twisting in hurt and confusion.

“Engaged,” Jughead repeated. “I’m going to be married.”

In that moment, you swear you could hear your heart shatter.

“To who?” You said, so soft it could have been a whisper.

“Betty Cooper,” Jughead said with a fond smile. “Remember her? We went to high school together.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “I remember her.”

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