pour-painting

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Hypnotic Poured Paint Landscapes, Kate Shaw

The techniques Australian artist Kate Shaw is using to create her wonderful works are pretty unique: first, she pours skins of acrylic paint and lets them form naturally; then she looks for landscapes within these abstract forms to cut and reassemble.

The outcome are collages that remind you of natural landscapes, showing trees, mountains and lakes, but still giving you a surreal sensation. Each piece exudes the undeniable and powerful force that the rolling hills and mountains hold.

Instagram.com/wetheurban

5

I finally edited some more of my acrylic ‘pour paintings’. Well, only the top one is a pour. The others are what I’ve been calling ‘presses’. Which is simply trying to reuse the excess paint by smushing a piece of cardstock into it, which sometimes results in really messy and cool stuff.

I’m planning to try to record some paintings :) I love watching others on youtube so I figured I could record my own too. And I saw a few new techniques and tricks I want to try. :D

Anyhoo from left to right, top to bottom I named ‘em: Cobalt Pour, Scorch Press X3, Rainbow Press, Scorch Press, Rainbow Press X3.

I hate it. I hate all of it. All of the stupid yoga classes, and plants on windowsills, and days spent at the gym. The cookie cutter couple, the polished looks, the fucking painting classes after brunch. It’s all bullshit. This idea of a perfect life, the ideal life, the life where you have your shit together. The life where your shit is so together that you have time to drink wine and go to soul cycle every weekend. Screw that. You can’t take a pile of trash, pour paint on it, and say it’s art. You can’t cover up the fact that you are human. You are so human. I think that everyone is just as fucked up as the next person and we’d all be better off if we stopped pretending to be okay and we admit how screwed up we really are. Maybe then we’d all really have a way to know each other. You’re scared the ‘love of your life’ might not really be the one? Let’s talk about that. You think you’re family is falling apart? Tell me all about it. I don’t want to talk about the weather over coffee and pastries. I want to talk about pain and life and love over tears and laughs. I want to be real, don’t you?
—  late night thoughts // An Excerpt From A Book I’ll Never Write #18
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Muse

Summary: In which you realize that perhaps all you needed to break your artistic block was the shy boy in the bomber jacket, who sought calm in the adventure and city lights.
Pairing: Taehyung | Reader
Genre: Fluff with a touch of angst; Artist AU 
Word Count: 8,269

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Seven days before.

This is supposed to be your work of art, your masterpiece, your piece for the showcase; something you have worked tirelessly on for minutes, hours, days on end. It’s bright and colorful, glowing exactly where it needs to be, yet it’s—!

“Not right,” You say, dropping your arm uselessly to your side, paintbrush dangling from in between your fingertips. Your teeth come out to gently nip at your lower lip; the anger, the frustration not building up like you expected it to. Instead, you feel rather numb, because the showcase is in less than a week and you still have absolutely nothing of satisfaction to display proudly to classmates, professors, or wanderers.

Besides you, your roommate lets out a gentle sigh of sympathy. “Maybe you’re just tired,” He says quietly. “You’ve been working on this nonstop for two weeks, I think you just have to step away from it for a day. You’ll have a new perspective of it tomorrow, and I’m sure you’ll love it then.”

You whirl around to face him, wearing a rather disgruntled look. “I don’t have time to step away from this, Jimin, the showcase is in a week and I hate this painting.” You want to slash black paint across the canvas to prove a point, but the look Jimin is wearing stops you from doing such a thing. You’ve always been slightly too reckless for your own good, anyways.

Jimin shrugs a little. “I think it looks fantastic, Y/N, you push yourself too hard.”

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William Nylander - Show and Tell

Originally posted by mapleleafstrash

I have to be honest here, this is one of my favorite ones I’ve done so far!

Request from @leafstrashtm :  Do you think you can do a William Nylander one where you are a kindergarten teacher and he comes to the classroom and is all cute with the kids

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Call You Mine || Min Yoongi

Originally posted by queen-of-suburbiaa

Word Count: 1.5k

Genre: Fluff


There was a glimpse of light from behind the curtains as the morning light fluttered in through the open window. Cold autumn air swept in, stirring the sheets around you, rousing you from the comfortable sleep you had found yourself in.

Bright sunlight flittered across the room, bringing your attention to the body next to yours. He was stretched out, his body shifting slightly as he tried to find the missing warmth from when you had moved.

The light seemed to glow, highlighting the expanse of pale skin that laid next to you. Yoongi’s back was exposed to you, reminding you of what you were now able to call yours.

It was nice to finally be able to see Yoongi like this. For him to finally have a day off to be with you.

He usually spent most of his days at the studio, forgetting to come home and do things with you, but he had booked off this specific day to help you out.

The two of you had just recently moved in together and you were supposed to spend the day putting away boxes and setting things up. The living room still needed to be painted and you thought about conquering that.

He stirred softly beside you and you held your breath as he let out a little huff of breath. One eye seemed to peel itself open and he looked at you, just staring down at him.

The gummy smile you had found yourself becoming more and more familiar with came across his face and the both of you just stared at each other.

“Good morning sleepy head.” You whispered quietly. Yoongi’s arm came up, without saying another word, and he pulled you close just hugging your bottom half. You didn’t say a word as your hand found it’s way into his mop of grey hair.

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Malec Headcanon

-Magnus is fast asleep. It’s morning and everyone knows that Alec wakes up first because of his Shadowhunter training.

-Alec can’t seem to fall asleep again because he still has nightmares from Edom and he doesn’t wanna worry Magnus. Magnus, on the other hand, is a very heavy sleeper. Alec looks over at him and thinks about how the sunlight catches him. He looks at peace and the sun makes his skin glow, and casts a halo around his head, a piece of art.

-Not many people know this, but Alec can draw. Not like stick figures and that nonsense, but good, meaningful drawings. He knows that he keeps an easel, paint and brushes hidden in his room, so he goes to get the paint.

-He then pulls the covers off Magnus, who is shirtless, closes his eyes, and begins to paint. He pours his heart and soul out into the painting. He remembers Edom, and he allows himself to accept all the pain he’s been holding in. Soon enough, Magnus is covered in loopy calligraphy. A swirl of deep, dark lines cover his chest forming patterns. Alec even paints on a few protection runes on him, even though he knows they won’t work. He’s just so scared of loosing Magnus again.

-Magnus wakes up. He thinks that rain is falling and the roof sprung a leak. However, he manages a glance at his chest and is awestruck by the black ink on his chest. He’s mesmerized by the tortured, haunted but achingly beautiful swirls and patterns of art on his chest. It reminds him of Indian henna. He sees the expression on Alec’s face and his heart shatters for Alec, and the pain Alec’s been bearing.

-Magnus says oh, Alec so gently and Alec completely looses it. Magnus lifts himself off the bed and brings himself to look Alec in the eye. He snaps his fingers and the paint dries because he doesn’t wanna waste Alec’s effort. Magnus brings Alec into his arms. Alec buries himself in his boyfriend’s shoulder and cries, the heart-wrenching cries of a broken teenage boy. Magnus says nothing, stroking his hands through his Alec’s hair, his deep breaths reminding Alec that he’s not going anywhere.