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

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Interrupting your daily N egan broadcast with some of my shitty abstract paintings. Fucking joy!

I named them: Shells, Jackpot, Alien Seed II, Alien Seed III, Geode,Ocean Bubbles, the Melting Sea. Some of them are close to how they are in reality, others are really digitally edited.

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
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.

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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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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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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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COLOR ME BLUE [FRED WEASLEY]

request: “Hello could you maybe do 5 with Fred weasley please and thank you” — by anon

a/n: the more i’m making imagines about fred, the more i find myself falling harder for him oh my god (but tbh, i like george more hehe)

5. “Why the hell are you blue?”

Masterlist + Request here!

    As you watched Fred use the rolling brush to paint on the white wall, you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing because of his obvious annoyance about the way the two of you weren’t allowed to use magic in summer — since it was stated in the law that wizards below seventeen weren’t allowed to use magic outside of school.

    “Bloody hell, Y/N, if I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t be tolerating this.” said Fred upon hearing your laughter inside the big room.

    You got up from your current position, which was just below the ladder he was on, where you were doing your own painting.

    “I know, Freddie.” you grinned. “Thank you again. You didn’t have to do this but you did.”

    He looked at you, “It’s the least I could do for your parents who welcomed me so warmly. Also, I may or may not be doing this to get on their good side.” he winked before working on his part of the wall again.

     You snorted and continued to paint.

     It was the summer before your seventh year with Fred and he gladly volunteered to help when you wrote to him saying that you were about to paint a whole room by yourself as part of your household chores. Of course, your muggle family was delighted to have him over as well, the ginger haired Weasley honestly already on their good side because of his kind and funny nature.

    Just as you were about to glide the brush on the clean wall, multiple of blue paint suddenly dropped on your hair, and in the next second, it seemed like half of the can of paint fell down on you.

    “Fred …” you spoke in between deep breaths.

    “Oh, crap, Y/N, I swear that was an accident.” he rushed down, holding the can and placing it on the ground.

    When you looked at him, you could see that he was trying hard to suppress a laugh.

     You slowly chuckle, “Oh, you think this is funny, huh?” you exclaimed, stepping closer only for him to step back when you did so.

     Fred raised his eyebrows. “Love, don’t do it.”

    “Don’t do what?” you asked innocently, a hand now on your hair as you attempt to get some paint on your fingertips.

    With a playful smirk, you practically tackled him unguarded which resulted into the two of you landing on the floor. Fred groaned as he was the one under and therefore was the one who felt the impact, his hands secured on your waist while you took the chance to get some paint on his face.

     Fred laughed, “Y/N, stop!” he shouted quite loudly, his grip now on your wrists to stop you from making more damage. “Damn, woman. When the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor, it didn’t say to live up to its symbol and pounce like a lion.” he chuckled.

     You sat up, still strangling his hips. “It’s your fault. You’re the one who poured this filthy paint on me.” you sighed, thankful that the paint used could be removed by water.

      “I told you, I didn’t mean it.” he sent you a goofy smile. “Though, I’m glad it happened. I mean, look at out position right now.” Fred wiggled his eyebrows.

     "Very cheeky, Weasley.“ you moved away from your position to instead sit beside him where he was still laying down with his face covered in paint.

    You reached out to him again and drew a mustache above his lip, laughing.

    Fred rolled his eyes, sitting up as well. "Enjoying yourself, are you?”

    “I always enjoy myself when I’m with you.” you said, winking at him.

    He snorted before leaning down to kiss your lips sweetly. “Can’t deny I feel the same way. You know how much I love you, right?”

    “No, not really.”

    Fred quirked an eyebrow, “Is that an excuse to make me kiss you again?” but he was already starting to lean in like seconds ago.

     You shrugged. “Maybe.”

     "Hmm,“ he was staring at your mouth,"it’s kinda working.”

     You pressed your lips onto his and he hastily kissed back, a hand automatically making its way to your waist to pull you closer. You chuckled at his sudden eagerness, now running your fingers through his red hair which was now tinted with blue.

      Kissing Fred always seemed to put you into another world. At that moment, everything around you was slowly fading away and the only thing that you were concentrating on was his lips and his hands. He practically drove you crazy, and he knew that he did.

      He smirked, pulling away. “Someone’s coming.”

     Indeed there was, and when you looked behind, your mom suddenly entered the room, her eyes widening at the sight of the two of you.

     "Why the hell are you blue?“ she demanded.

     Sharing a knowing glance with Fred, the both of you burst out laughing, unaware of your mom’s expression that had confusion written all over it; but it wasn’t long before she too smiled, realizing that what you had with Fred wasn’t just some fling — it was for a lifetime.