digital recorders

7

A little break from fanart and boards for some hand studies. This originally started as me trying to differentiate hand shapes between my characters, but I was drawing these around the time season 5 of Samurai Jack premiered, and all the close-up shots of Jack’s hands really made me want to do more angular shapes, so I tacked on a couple more drawings. I threw in a paw for good measure.

This was also the first set of drawings where I tried recording myself back when I made that a goal of mine. I was testing out programs to use and my original plan was to use gifs instead of videos, but it didn’t work out for the majority of recordings. The screen capture program I was trying out also lagged my computer heavily and you can see it start to skip around in the gif.

rollingstone.com
Harry Styles: Singer Opens Up About Famous Flings, Honest New LP
One Direction's Harry Styles goes deep on love, family and his heartfelt new solo debut in our revealing feature.

January 2016. There’s a bench at the top of Primrose Hill, in London, that looks out over the skyline of the city. If you’d passed by it one winter night, you might have seen him sitting there. A lanky guy in a wool hat, overcoat and jogging pants, hands thrust deep into his pockets. Harry Styles had a lot on his mind. He had spent five years as the buoyant fan favorite in One Direction; now, an uncertain future stretched out in front of him. The band had announced an indefinite hiatus. The white noise of adulation was gone, replaced by the hushed sound of the city below.

The fame visited upon Harry Styles in his years with One D was a special kind of mania. With a self-effacing smile, a hint of darkness and the hair invariably described as “tousled,” he became a canvas onto which millions of fans pitched their hopes and dreams. Hell, when he pulled over to the side of the 101 freeway in L.A. and discreetly threw up, the spot became a fan shrine. It’s said the puke was even sold on eBay like pieces of the Berlin Wall. Paul McCartney has interviewed him. Then there was the unauthorized fan-fiction series featuring a punky, sexed-up version of “Harry Styles.” A billion readers followed his virtual exploits. (“Didn’t read it,” comments the nonfiction Styles, “but I hope he gets more than me.”)

But at the height of One D–mania, Styles took a step back. For many, 2016 was a year of lost musical heroes and a toxic new world order. For Styles, it was a search for a new identity that began on that bench overlooking London. What would a solo Harry Styles sound like? A plan came into focus. A song cycle about women and relationships. Ten songs. More of a rock sound. A bold single-color cover to match the working title: Pink. (He quotes the Clash’s Paul Simonon: “Pink is the only true rock & roll colour.”) Many of the details would change over the coming year – including the title, which would end up as Harry Styles – but one word stuck in his head.

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Witch Tip

When writing a spell, I like to go through the who, what when, where, why, and how of the spell. 

  • “Who” is the target/recipient of the spell. In my case it is usually myself.
  • “What” is the objective/s of the spell.
  • “When” is the time frame of the spell. I include starts, ends, and any times it is to recur. These can be “when requirements x, y, z are met”.
  • “Where” is simply enough the location/s. May be tied to an individual.
  • “Why” gives you a nice reminder of the spell’s purpose, and can avoid spells backfiring ironically by “working” but against their ultimate purpose. This may be a good time to reflect on your rede or other moral code, and add a “clause” to keep your spell working within it.
  • “How” refers to the “route” which you want your spell to take, but also what energy will be used to power the spell.

This format lends itself well to written or digital records of your spell, and clearly defines all aspects of it.

V3 spoiler art

i’m too lazy put a read more so just press J to skip if you’re on pc (or just close your eyes and scroll if you’re on mobile lmao)




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Those who tried to stop the killing game

“With an artist like Prince,” he says, “all you wanted to do was know more. And that mystery – it’s why those people are so magical! Like, fuck, I don’t know what Prince eats for breakfast. That mystery  …  it’s just what I like.”

Styles pauses, savoring the idea of the unknown. He looks at my digital recorder like a barely invited guest. “More than ‘do you keep a mystery alive?’ – it’s not that. I like to separate my personal life and work. It helps, I think, for me to compartmentalize. It’s not about trying to make my career longer, like I’m trying to be this ‘mysterious character,’ because I’m not. When I go home, I feel like the same person I was at school. You can’t expect to keep that if you show everything. There’s the work and the personal stuff, and going between the two is my favorite shit. It’s amazing to me.”

🎶🎶When You Collect Records🎶🎶
  • Hipster: *moves dusty old boxes out of the way* Whoa, an old record player. It looks like it's in working order too! *runs outside*
  • Hipster: Yo, dad!
  • Dad: What?
  • Hipster: We're getting rid of all of poppop's stuff, right?
  • Dad: There's something you want, isn't there?
  • Hipster: There's this old stereo record player in the attic.
  • Dad: What do you need a record player for?
  • Hipster: My record collection.
  • Dad: I didn't even know they still made those things. Can't you just listen to music on your phone?
  • Hipster: Dad, there's a big difference between listening to music digitally and on record.
  • Dad: Fine, I don't wanna get into it with you right now. You can take the record player. You just have to get someone else to take it to your place for you. My truck's full.
  • Hipster: Thanks dad! *smooches dad on the cheek*
  • *later at hipster's apartment*
  • Friend: So, like Patch Adams ends with Patch Adams half-naked in front of a ton of people. I don't know if it was meant to be funny or like a weird sex thing, but like the movie was just a deeply disturbing character study. I can't stop thinking about it.
  • Hipster: That sounds boring. *unlocks door to apartment* Ta-da! Here it is! My new record player!
  • Friend: New? Looks fucking old to me, dude.
  • Hipster: Well, it is old. That's the appeal. And we're going to listen to the new Sufjan record on it.
  • Friend: Is that actually how you say Sufjan? Apparently, I've been pronouncing it wrong this whole time.
  • Hipster: Well, you won't after this record. There's an entire track where he just says his name for four minutes. It's amazing. *plays records*
  • Record Player: *coughs* Hello. Hello! Where am I? Doctor? Hello! Why is it so dark...............................Can I breathe? I can't breath. Oh god, I'm not breathing! Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god! I.....................................
  • Hipster: Uh, that's not Sufjan.
  • Friend: It totally isn't. Is it some guest vocalist? I like the new direction he's going in. No instruments or singing, and long stretches of silence. Very experimental.
  • Hipster: *stops record player* I think maybe we should do something else for now.
  • Friend: Fucking lame! I wanted to listen to more Sufjan.
  • *days later at the record store*
  • Hipster: Yo, I think the Sufjan Stevens record I bought from here might be some kind of mispress.
  • Store Clerk: Really? It's a pretty major album. I doubt there'd just be a mispress like that.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but listen to it. It's not Sufjan at all. It's some girl talking.
  • *hipster and clerk listen to a completely normal Sufjan Stevens album together*
  • Store Clerk: What are you talking about? This is definitely Sufjan Stevens.
  • Hipster: Okay, but it wasn't like that when I listened to it at home! I even listened to it with my friend and he heard the same thing!
  • Store Clerk: Maybe there's something wrong with your record player.
  • Hipster: Hmm, maybe there is.
  • *back at the apartment*
  • Hipster: *turns on record player and just listens*
  • Record Player: ...I'm awake again. Why did I black out? Did I even black out? God, I'm not breathing, but it doesn't matter. Why don't I need to breathe? Am I even alive?
  • Hipster: Can you hear me?
  • Record Player: Doctor. Doctor! DOCTOR! Why can't I move? Why can't I feel anything. Keep yourself together. It'll all make sense soon. Calm down. Just breathe deeply. Fuck, I can't breathe! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I CAN'T BREATHE! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE! I'M STUCK! I CAN'T MOVE! PLEASE HELP ME!
  • Hipster: *turns off record player* It's just a recording, I bet. I can't believe I talked to it like an idiot... *nervously turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: I blacked out again. I blacked out. For how long? Is there even time here? Hell. This is hell, right? Did I go to hell.........................................
  • Hipster: *listens to the record player for hours*
  • Record Player: Negative 6893 bottles of wine on the wall! Negative 6893 bottles of wine! Take one down, pass it around, Negative 6894 bottles of wine on the wall... fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
  • Hipster: *keeps listening*
  • Record Player: Soul of Christ, make me holy, Body of Christ, be my salvation. God, please forgive me. I'm sorry for all of my sins. Please free me. I'm so sorry. Please. Please. Please.
  • Hipster: *still listening*
  • Record Player: FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! SHITTY DOCTOR! FUCK YOU! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! *sobs intensely* FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK EVERYTHING! Please just let me go.
  • Hipster: *nervously walks up to record player and lightly taps on it*
  • Record Player: ...A knock. A KNOCK! PLEASE HELP ME! I'M STUCK! PLEASE! *record player begins shake violently*
  • Hipster: *backs away in fear*
  • Record Player: HELP! HELP! HELP ME! PLEASE, IF SOMEONE'S THERE, HELP ME! HELP ME! I'M STUCK! GET ME OUT OF HERE, PLEASE!
  • Hipster: *unplugs record player*
  • Hipster: *gets hammer from the closet and begins to break apart record player*
  • Record Player: *drips red*
  • Hipster: W-What? *cracks front of record player open*
  • *rotting viscera falls from the record player*
  • Hipster: O-Oh... *stuffs viscera back into the record player and duct tapes over it*
  • Hipster: *turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: ...I can feel. It hurts. Why does it hurt now? Why does it hurt? Why? Why? Why? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? *spurts blood through it speakers and begins to gurgle*
  • Record Player: *hops forward* Please just let me go. Please... please. I'll do anything. I just want to see you again. I'm so sorry. This isn't what I asked for. I'm so sorry. *hops forward again and comes unplugged*
  • Record Player: *tips over, bleeding heavily onto the carpet*
  • Hipster: *silently cleans up the mess*
  • *some time later*
  • Hipster: *calls dad* Hey, dad. Oh, nothing. Uh, I just need to borrow your truck, If not tonight sometime this week. I just need to get rid of something. No, no, that's fine, I can do it myself. Yeah, tomorrow morning is perfect. Thanks Love you too. Bye.
  • *the next afternoon*
  • Dad: So, what did you need to get rid of this morning?
  • Hipster: Nothing important. Just some old junk... Dad, what kind of person was poppop?
  • Dad: Well, he was only the greatest man I've known in my life. Really caring, dedicated to his family. When you were born he loved you so much. He was a bit of a loner, though. It took a lot to get him to open up. Even around me and your grandmother. He was a bit like you. Always a huge music lover.
  • Hipster: I see. Was he ever a doctor?
  • Dad: That's a weird thing to ask. Nope. He hated doctors. Didn't trust modern medicine one bit. It's ironic. His cancer probably wouldn't have gotten to him if he did. But, your poppop was always so stubborn.
  • Hipster: Oh, okay then.
  • *some days later*
  • Friend: New carpet?
  • Hipster: Yup, old one was ugly wasn't it. It was time for a change.
  • Friend: That's what I've been telling you! I'm glad you finally came to your senses. What happened to your record player, though?
  • Hipster: That thing? I threw it away. It was busted.
  • Friend: That sucks. Are you gonna buy a new one?
  • Hipster: No.
  • Friend: But you won't have anything to play your records on.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but I buy records because I want to support the artists. They're not really for listening. Besides, lossless is better. FLAC is the future.