The violet-backed starling (Cinnyricinclus leucogaster), also known as the plum-coloured starling or amethyst starling, is a relatively small species of starling. One of the most striking of the world’s 114 starling species, male amethysts are clad in a deep violet set off by a brilliant white breast. In the sunlight, they are, like most starlings, as iridescent as any hummingbird. This strongly sexually dimorphic species is found widely in the woodlands and savannah forest edges of mainland sub-Saharan Africa. It is rarely seen on the ground, but instead commonly found in trees and other sources away from the ground.
Custom Aequis design (tropical and temperate arboreal hybrid) for @arrowhoodcobra! She’s based on a violet backed starling.
I know I say this about all of the Aequis designs I do for people, but I loved working on her. Never thought I’d say that about the color purple, but I think I’ve got a much healthier relationship with that color now. :)
Caran d’Ache Supracolor watercolor pencils and Winsor and Newton watercolors and gouaches on Arches hot press 140 lb watercolor paper. Approx 14 x 11 inches, 28 x 35.5 cm.
Why do I like the birb au so much?? Like, Imagine Miles (who is a white peacock) just presenting his feathers whenever Phoenix is around “Say Wright, do you notice anything different?” “Wow Edgeworth you look….extravagant. ” and purple starling Maya trying to tell him that Edgeworth is FLIRTING WITH HIM. Like “Nick Omg, you know peacocks do that to impress/flirt with another!” “Wait what.” And Nick eventually realized that Edgey was hitting on him and bursts into flames bc ‘omg my crush hit on me’. (Don’t worry he came back.)
Color study for a custom Aequis belonging to @arrowhoodcobra! She’s based on a violet backed starling, I added some white wing patches to add some “Aequis flavor” to the design. (But I can leave them out!)
Also! Resolved the weird issue with female tropical Aequis extended tail coverts, I made the feather shafts stiffer so the plumes always stick out behind while retaining some degree of flexibility. Wouldn’t want to step on them!
As you can see, color doesn’t differentiate sexes: the only example of sexual dimorphism are plumage differences that currently only occur in tropical types, otherwise sexes are similar. (Male tropicals have the long extended tail covert feathers, but without the “flag” tipped wires.)
(No really, this is how bright these pencils are. Caran d’Ache have some of the most beautiful purples, violets, and magentas I have EVER SEEN.)
Do you know the warm progress under the stars? Do you know we exist? Have you forgotten the keys to the Kingdom? Have you been borne yet & are you alive? Let’s reinvent the gods, all the myths of the ages Celebrate symbols from deep elder forests [Have you forgotten the lessons of the ancient war] We need great golden copulations The fathers are cackling in trees of the forest Our mother is dead in the sea Do you know we are being led to slaughters by placid admirals & that fat slow generals are getting obscene on young blood Do you know we are ruled by T.V. The moon is a dry blood beast Guerilla bands are rolling numbers in the next block of green vine Amassing for warfare on innocent herdsmen who are just dying O great creator of being grant us one more hour to perform our art & perfect our lives The moths & atheists are doubly divine & dying We live, we die & death not ends it Journey we more into the Nightmare Cling to life our passion’d flower Cling to cunts & cocks of despair We got our final vision by clap Columbus’ groin got filled w/ green death (I touched her thigh & death smiled) We have assembled inside this ancient & insane theatre To propagate our lust for life & flee the swarming wisdom of the streets The barns are stormed The windows kept & only one of all the rest To dance & save us W/ the divine mockery of words Music inflames temperament (When the true King’s murderers are allowed to roam free a 1000 magicians arise in the land) Where are the feasts We were promised Where is the wine The New Wine (dying on the vine) Resident mockery give us an hour for magic We of the purple glove We of the starling flight & velvet hour We of arabic pleasure’s breed We of sundome & the night Give us a creed To believe A night of Lust Give us trust in The Night Give of color Hundred hues A rich Mandala For me & you & for your silky pillowed house A head, wisdom & a bed Troubled decree Resident mockery Has claimed thee We used to believe in the good old days We still receive In little ways The Things of Kindness & unsporting brow Forget & allow Did you know freedom exists in a school book Did you know madmen are running our prison W/in a jail, w/in a gaol, w/in a white free protestant Maelstrom We’re perched headlong On the edge of boredom We’re reaching for death On the end of a candle We’re trying for something That’s already found us We can invent Kingdoms of our own Grand purple thrones, those chairs of lust & love we must, in beds of rust Steel doors lock in prisoner’s screams & muzak, AM, rocks their dreams No black men’s pride to hoist the beams While mocking angels sift what seems To be a collage of magazine dust Scratched on foreheads of walls of trust This is just jail for those who must Get up in the morning & fight for such unusable standards While weeping maidens show-off penury & pout ravings for a mad staff Wow, I’m sick of doubt Live in the light of certain South Cruel bindings The servants have the power dog-men & their mean women Pulling poor blankets over our sailors (& where were you in our lean hour) Milking your moustache? Or grinding a flower? I’m sick of dour faces Staring at me from the T.V. Tower. I want roses in my garden bower; dig? Royal babies, rubies must now replace aborted Strangers in the mud These mutants, blood-meal For the plant that’s plowed They are waiting to take us into the severed garden Do you know how pale & wanton thrillful Comes death on strange hour Unannounced, unplanned for like a scaring over-friendly guest you’ve brought to bed Death makes angels of us all & gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as raven’s claws No more money, no more fancy dress This other Kingdom seems by far the best until its other jaw reveals incest & loose obedience to a vegetable law I will not go Prefer a Feast of Friends To the Giant family
Great screaming Christ Upsy-daisy Lazy Mary will get you up upon a Sunday morning “The movie will begin in 5 moments” The mindless Voice announced “All those unseated, will await The next show” We filed slowly, languidly into the hall. The auditorium was vast, & silent. As we seated & were darkened The Voice continued: “The program for this evening is not new. You have seen This entertainment thru & thru. You’ve seen your birth, your life & death; you might recall all of the rest - (did you have a good world when you died?) - enough to base a movie on?” An iron chuckle rapped our minds like a fist. I’m getting out of here Where’re you going? To the other side of the morning Please don’t chase the clouds Pagodas, temples Her cunt gripped him Like a warm friendly hand. “It’s all right. All your friends are here.” When can I meet them? “After you’ve eaten” I’m not hungry “O, we meant beaten” Silver stream, silvery scream, Impossible concentration Here come the comedians Look at them smile Watch them dance An indian mile Look at them gesture How aplomb So to gesture everyone Words dissemble Words be quick Words resemble walking sticks Plant them They will grow Watch them waver so I’ll always be A word-man Better than a birdman But I’ll charge Won’t get away W/out lodging a dollar Shall I say it again Aloud, you get the point No food w/out fuel’s gain I’ll be, the irish loud Unleashed my beak At peak of powers O girl, unleash Your worried comb O worried mind Sin in the fallen Backwoods by the blind She smells debt On my new collar Arrogant prose Tied in a network of fast quest Hence the obsession Its quick to admit Fats borrowed rhythm Woman came between them Women of the world unite Make the world safe For a scandalous life Hee Heee Cut your throat Life is a joke Your wife’s in a moat The same boat Here comes the goat Blood Blood Blood Blood They’re making a joke Of our universe
Matchbox Are you more real than me I’ll burn you, & set you free Wept bitter tears Excessive courtesy I won’t forget
A hot sick lava flowed up, Rustling & bubbling. The paper-face. Mirror-mask, I love you mirror. He had been brainwashed for 4 hrs. The LT. puzzled in again “ready to talk” “No sir” - was all he’d say. Go back to the gym. Very peaceful Meditation Air base in the desert Looking out venetian blinds A plane A desert flower Cool cartoon The rest of the World Is reckless & dangerous Look at the Brothels Stag films Exploration
A ship leaves port Mean horse of another thicket Wishbone of desire Decry the metal fox
The Purple Martin (Progne subis) is an enormous North American swallow, long beloved for its beautiful, swooping flight patterns. People have loved these birds for hundreds of years; in fact, there is a well-accepted rumor that eastern Native American tribes used to hollow out gourds for the martins to use as nesting cavities! The practice has continue until today, and the eastern subspecies of Purple Martin now relies heavily on the use of human-made nesting cavities. Some people still use natural gourds, but you can also purchase artificial ones from gardening stores.
It’s a good thing that people love the Purple Martin enough to house it, as this species suffered a pretty severe setback through the 1900s, and the lack of martins has been incredibly noticeable in the last 30 years. The culprit behind the low population? European Starlings (Sturnus vulgaris), the invasive bird species behind so many other declining populations. Starlings also nest in cavities, and they can be very aggressive. They took over many of the natural spaces where martins would normally nest. However, many concerned bird-lovers have tried to remedy the situation by monitoring which bird species are using their nesting gourds. If a starling moves in, these dedicated humans kick them out to make room for martins. There are still other issues facing these birds, but at least now they can find somewhere to raise their young.
They were small. Small enough for me to hold them in my small hands. For some weird reason I just knew I had to carry them. They seemed like they needed help.
So I held them. I held them with care, but my hands got sweaty and their feathers started to thin out because of the moisture. I was worried.
When I looked down, I noticed that they weren’t moving. Their eyes were closed. They had fallen to their sides.
Oh how I wept. I cried for I had thought I had helped these beautiful creatures in some way.
As I sat there, with my palms open, head down in may arms, I felt tiny feet spring into motion. A hop to the left, a few other hops to the right, and as i lift my head up a dash of purple and pink fly upward.