this is Elias (orbsteeb/traversefamilypicnic/thedevouringseason) and I would like to write YOU a poem. fresh from the oven, written to order, just like mama used to make. 

my situation is this: having just switched coasts, i am currently vaguely homeless, unemployed, and nearly broke. i am in no immediate danger but my financial situation is getting dire.

as a result, i will write things! for you! whatever you want, more or less, although i reserve the right to turn down commissions that i find morally repugnant. i don’t foresee that being a problem. just throwing it out there. sexual content/erotica is fine as long as it’s, you know, consensual.

here are some things i have written to give you a sense of what you’re getting for your money:

i am charging $2 for a haiku/quatrain/anything similarly short, 5$ for a half-page (12-18 lines), and $10 for a full page. anything longer than that is negotiable. if you’d really like a rhyme scheme or something i may charge you a few dollars more simply because that will take me more time if i’m going to do it properly. 

additionally, i am a published journalist, experienced editor and degree-having English Guy and would be delighted to help you edit or research your academic papers/short stories/what have you. my price for this will depend on the length of the piece in question and what you’re prepared to offer. i’m not here to rip off any students or struggling writers, since i’ve sure as hell been there. get in touch and we’ll work something out!

even if somehow, impossibly, you aren’t interested, i would very much appreciate a signal boost. tell your friends! tell your mom! that’s the second time i’ve mentioned your mother, and i’m sorry. 

if you are interested please contact me at elias(dot)isaac(dot)b(at)gmail(dot)com with your chosen topic or topics and desired length. you may also say “hi” but NOT “hello” as i will construe this as a grave insult. 

thank you for reading this! i love you all


still working on this feather/wing tattoo idea. obviously even with my big talk about getting a tattoo machine, i wouldn’t be attempting anything this complex without tattooing a few smiley faces on AT LEAST two, maybe three grapefruits first.

this round i used the underlying musculature of steeb’s arm to guide placement of the covert, primary and secondary feathers.  i think this is what is really going to make the design work, that and using the direction of the arm hair growth to complement the feather’s barbs.

i didn’t “finish” this sketch and nor did i take much time on it, so there are a lot of fucked up lines and blank patches because i was working quickly just to get the basic idea down.

here’s a halfway pic to show just the sketches of the coverts without the primaries, which i think shows the use of the muscular geography for the design

the way i see it, there are three options for placement: wrist to fingers, elbow to fingers, or all the way up to the shoulder.  i really like the feathered finger from the last sketch but tried something else this time. ultimately i think the feathered fingers look best, and i think probably on the pinky and ring fingers only.

here’s the earlier sketch:

these are just ballpoint pen sketches obviously and actually tattooing it is another thing entirely.  i doubt i would trust myself with a design this detailed anytime remotely soon, but it gives us a long time to figure out the details and placement.

of course the benefit to planning to do this myself is that in the speculative tattooing itself, i could take as long as it needed in order to be perfect, as many individual sessions, etc, without worrying about the cost per hour or fatigue.

what if all of us, and *indicates all of us by way of expansive, sweeping arm gestures* i do mean all of us, were dead, and didn’t have to fucking deal with tthis. what if we were fucking terrible shit ghosts peering up out of tartarus. at least we would have a different set of problems to cavil our ways around. not this
electrum'll nab you about $700 an ounce. i would give you a dime for steeb's tongue, and let's face facts, that would be charity on account of i have a lot of compassion for people who have been near his tongue (part of why i'm such a good kisser)

so i don’t design tattoos for people much.  

there has to be a pretty rare intersection of friendship and shared interests and the subject matter of the tattoo has to be something i’m willing to drill into someone else’s flesh.  in my experience, designing tattoos on a commission basis is sort of an exercise in frustration caused by the distance that money puts between the intent of a design and its meaning.  i have a lot of people ask me for tattoo designs and usually just turn them down flat, for all the reasons above.  there are a couple other friends waiting for designs at this point and they are all people who i feel comfortable enough about to contribute to the mortification of their eternal flesh.  steeb and i have a mutual obsession with greek myth and particularly the goddess Athena, so the opportunity to participate in a sort of flesh sacrifice to a war goddess was much too good to pass up.

but it’s just insanely stressful to imagine the permanence of my art applied in this way, slowly rotting away in someone else’s dermis, guaranteed to disappoint me every time i see it aging badly against my (hopefully) developing skills and tastes.  which is why, despite being asked to do this months and months ago, i completed it in a few snatched hours over the last few days and gave my consent to have it used before i was rested enough to recover my senses and change my mind.

and it’s not that i don’t think the art is good–i do.  i wouldn’t let anyone wear anything of mine i didn’t believe in.  but i won’t believe in it, in a month or a year.  in a sense, giving it to someone else, as a sort of ward (in every meaning of the term), making them custodian of a concept that i will forget and muddle and outgrow, does whatever goodness i may have snatched from the jaws of blunder more honor than I would have, stuffing the sheet of paper in a drawer and eventually losing the file.  

it’s the same sense of relief as when someone buys a painting and i can get it out of my sight and into caring hands; as if i am too conscious of a sort of post-partum depression to ever really enjoy having a painting around.  someone should care for these things, and i will never be able to.

the tattooist here is Eric Eye, who works out of Lucky Devil in Seattle.  i was immensely flattered when he complimented the design and when he expressed relief at the failure of his fears to materialize, about steeb’s informing him that steeb had “gotten an artist to design it”, since that usually means terrible art (eric said).  

confused sentences aside it was much cooler watching this go in than back in high school when my friend Amanda asked me to make her a version of The Crow 2: City of Angels-inspired blackwork “wings”.  they held up alright, considering, but the simplicity of the design was a great help in that case.

god help the poor bastard who, when i was 16, hired me to design a full backpiece of Anubis holding a giant ankh-shaped sword. it was a terrible tattoo but he loved it and he’s still walking around with it, my awful teen deviantart garbage, lathed into his back in full color high res.  shudder

in conclusion, designing tattoos for friends is a world of contrasts.  thank you

vvfille  asked:

Does the Bog Princess have a royal steed she favors for her hunting excursions? Perhaps an each-uisge, or a bäckahäst?

In its human form it is said to appear as a handsome man, and can be recognised as a mythological creature only by the water weeds in its hair; because of this, people in the Highlands were often wary of lone animals and strangers by the waters edge, near where the each-uisge was reputed to live.

Along with its human victims, cattle and sheep were also often prey to the each-uisge, and it could be lured out of the water by the smell of roasted meat.

"the thing about [the james joyce letters] is that taken on their literary merit alone, rather than for the subject matter,"

see this quote i’m going to attribute.  steeb said it.  he said it out loud into this very room.

then i said “yeah that’s the only way i can stand to be around you, either.”


this is steeb’s dog Quixote, whom i take for walks a lot.  he is a good boy but he has strange cares and often needs to be reassured that lightning, unfamiliar bicycles, and undeserved kindnesses arent going to kill him.

eudaemaniacal  asked:

tell me about traditional literature in bog kgingdom. kigdmom. kindgom. fuck

guest answer by notable bog kingdom totem bruiser, orbsteeb:

“traditional bog lit consists mainly of unearthing moldering peat men and composing impromptu and insulting dirges in their honor. contemporary bog theory holds that the “dirge” and the “dunk” represent opposing memetic poles that can only be reconciled in a truly perfect bog chant. a yearly poetry competition is held in the bog kingdom, the winner of which is held gently underwater until the struggling stops”

  • steeb:however, apollo has nothing in his portfolio that isn't covered by another god or demiurge
  • steeb:and within the "canon" it's difficult to sort out what his duties actually are
  • Eliza:hehe
  • Eliza:doodies
  • steeb:oh my god shut up

car is shuddering which I’m going to assume is the result of misalignment caused either by the earlier catastrophic blowout or by my replacing the tire myself without aligning it. so I guess I will pray we don’t fall off the axels while I look for a tire service in fuck-ever Nebraska on the I-80 West corridor.

pretty sure this is steeb’s fault.