I'm an "Artist" (I'm real young and bad, hence the quotes) and I kinda want to start an art blog but I'm not 100% sure about how to go about it :/
Well one thing is making the blog. Mine here is a mix of personal and art, but others make side blogs dedicated specifically to their art. Which is really just clicking the New+ just above your blog’s name and setting everything up(just be aware the notes aren’t gonna show up on your main dash). Make your art blog something you’re comfortable with, check out theme codes made by people here, fiddle around and get to know your blog. But if you wanna stick with your main blog being your art blog as well that’s great too.
Another thing I recommend is making a special tag for yourself that you put on all of your work. It can be as simple as ‘#my art’ as long as it’s yours, but for the love of all things beautiful use it. If you get in the habit you’ll start building up an archive people can go through and see what you’ve made. Add it as a go to thing on your blog (like the ask, submit etc.) so people that get curious can easily go through your older works and maybe find something else they like!
Lastly, be patient, don’t give up, and don’t be afraid to reach out to other artists. You’re going to change as you get older, and depending where you go you’ll meet some really amazing people that you may even get to call your friends. You’ll find tutorials on things you had no idea you could do with the art programs you have or maybe even find new ones you like more than the one you use now.
You’re also gonna run by people who are going to discourage you, tell you that your art is bad, maybe worse. Just keep drawing, get better and prove those people wrong. They aren’t worth throwing away something you love. Keep going and keep drawing.
Be the best artist you can be! And good luck to you anon!
Edit: FORGOT TO ADD, ONLY THE FIRST FIVE TAGS COUNT TOWARD PUBLIC POSTS ON TUMBLR. SO IF YOU’RE MAKING FAN ART MAKE SURE THE CHARACTER’S NAME/SERIES IS IN THE FIRST FIVE TAGS. You have no idea how many times I made this mistake and got confused in my early days.
Today’s very excellent fannibal purchase. There’s an entire chapter on cannibalistic snail sex.
Fun fact: Cupid’s origins may lie in said cannibalistic snails. When ready to mate one snail will shoot a literal love dart at the other snail. If said object of desire reciprocates it will shoot a dart in response, and some snail loving (complete with the possibility of biting chunks out of one another in the process!) will occur. How hannigram-tastic is that?
This is my dog. She usually sits behind me all day as I doodle, curled around my bum, occasionally putting her long chin on the arm rest or wedging her snout between my thigh and the chair. She is an old pup, so she snores heavily, sighs a lot, and sometimes hiccups. I love her a lot and she makes me happy, so here is my sharing happy thing of the day.
Dear goood, look at this beautiful piece of art by the talented @mushroomtale-fanart. When I first saw it, I knew I wanted it EVERYWHERE! On my cup, on my pillow, on my wall, on my face… Okay, I ended up with the wall-option xD Now it’s in my living room :D Haven’t read the Merthur fanfiction to this art? How dare you! Let everything you’re doing drop and go read it: Something Unpredictable on ao3»
write something about when ben met martin for their first read thru uwu
Now, long after the fact, the accounts of their first meeting differ. Martin says they met for the first time during his second audition. They’d been allowed to speak privately for a few minutes just before they ran their lines. Benedict says it happened earlier, while Martin and his peers were still congregated in the waiting room just before those auditions. Everyone else was hunched over a script, but Benedict remembers Martin sitting there as if he hadn’t a care in the world, as though he knew he could get by on his height (or lack thereof), charm, and talent alone. He looked deceptively unassuming, and he wore a ridiculous hat, and Benedict says he knew right away. Eye contact, a smile, and, boom, he knew. He says he had that White Stripes song running through his head. I can tell that we are gonna be friends.
Either way, they both agree that it was one of those terrible things that happened instantly, which might’ve been romantic if it hadn’t been so inconvenient. Benedict didn’t even wait until the rest of the hypothetical John Watsons had had their chance to audition for the producers to shuffle through the head-shots and pick Martin’s photo out of the pile.
He’d turned to Mark and said, “I want him,“ and Mark, with his bendy, pointed face and his quick wit, replied with nothing but a leering grin.
Benedict jumped to clarify. “I just mean, you know, if you want my input. He’s our man. He’s our Watson. I want to play opposite him.” He was rambling and flustered and probably blushing. There was something self-serving in the statement, and not just for the fact that Martin challenged him as an actor and made him a better Sherlock. He feared he’d been caught in his selfishness for a moment, but Mark just nodded.
“I like him, too,” he said.
Martin was so high up on cloud nine that he didn’t remember much about how he got home, but, once he got there, Amanda tried to pry any information out of him that she could. How many other people had auditioned? How did it go? Did he think he got it? How long before he knew for sure? Did he meet Benedict? And? What was that like? Was he friendly? Was he dreamy? Martin answered dutifully. About a dozen. It went really well. He sure hoped so. No idea. Yes, he did meet Benedict. He was nice. Very friendly. Oh my god, so dreamy.
He almost wanted to tell her that Benedict Cumberbatch was a gorgeous paradox, a walking contradiction, a teacup full of conflicting dualities. He seemed to be both austere intellectual and giddy five year old. He was pretentious and humble. He wanted to tell her that he was both genuine human being and chameleon, able to be fully himself one moment and his own antithesis the next, if that’s what his script asked him to be. He wanted to say that Benedict managed to be both yin and yang. Benedict made him poetic like that almost instantly.
And, sure, Martin had been skeptical of Dr. Watson and the premise of the show in general. “Sherlock Holmes with an IPhone,” he’d scoffed. But, since meeting Benedict, he’d been certain of it all. Of the project. Of the character. Of their potential as a pair. He was lost in his own mind for a full week, replaying the way Benedict had smiled at him as he faded out of Sherlock. He analyzed every moment of his audition, the inflection in Mark’s voice, the way Steven had frowned and written on his copy of the script, until, finally, Sue called his manager Rachel, and Rachel called Martin. He had another audition.