transparent brain

curlzformetal  asked:

how does one draw beards, besides selling their soul to Satan?

no soul-selling! it’s pretty simple

well, what i’m gonna show you is pretty simple

so let’s take these baby-faces:

having the jawline/chin/etc down pretty accurate is important! because the beard grows from there!

dudes all have a specific growth pattern on their face. when doing a 5 o’clock shadow, you can pretty much just follow that and fill it in with a gray/their hair color at a low opacity

with the growth pattern and jawlines and mind, it’s pretty easy to make a readable beard by doing little lines that follow those patterns! i never do a straight line to draw beards. it’s an option, but it’s tough to make look natural lol–i don’t even do that for comics! but once the hairs are curved along the jawline, i think getting rid of the visible jawline helps show thickness/structure to the beard itself

as beards get longer, you can lengthen the lines and make them have more minds of their own, as they begin to stop conforming with the face!

so that’s about it. if you want beards with a little more texture, remember that beards grow in layers. they grow just like hair! but…on..on the face.

as a beard might.

Don't get angry

Don’t get angry
if people don’t love you
or understand you.
They’ve limits
established by personal knowledge
and personal experience.
No one can really see
through you transparent 100%.
Human brain and soul
are inundated
with mysteries and sometimes
only a hand of people
will try to empathize with you
depending on how much
their childhood wounds are healed and sealed.
It’s important only if afterwords
they feel the need to call you
and tell you how you managed to change
a miserable mood in a cathartic eureka moment.
You managed to make them happy
even just for a short period of time.
And that should be enough to sleep like a rose in a river bed
for an entire magic week.

I had a dream where the sky fell down.
The bloodstains won’t come out, no matter how many times I pour warm water on them, they won’t come out.
Only words begin to dissolve everything, and get stuck in the drain.
And you become unable to forgive yourself, unforgiving.
I had a dream.
A failure of a God
She laughed and squeezed my throat.
It’s always like this.
Only people dull to pain hurt me.
She truly loved me,
Only she didn’t know how to love.
What a stupid God.
My nerves grow strangely and pierce through my skin.
All at once they sing out.
Far away, someone laughs. Soon, it’s not even my voice any more.
My brain becomes transparent, and there’s nothing I can’t see.
On knowing the things you didn’t know, you die.
I had a dream where the sky fell.
A checkerboard sky.
Squashed by it, I died.
Yes, I wished for that.

i just saw the headline that trump is releasing classified documents about jfk’s assassination and my history loving ass was excited for all of two seconds about new research studies until my own damn historical analysis brain kicked in and went “this is trump he sucks so what is his motive for releasing them????”

i miss the forms
of my old friends,
outlines in gold,
curves and edges
context not quite there yet,
nevertheless familiar–
and that which is known
is navigable

my old body,
my old brain,
a transparent duplicate
of self,
a bittersweet memoir
of naivete,
a stillborn offspring
of evolution

who i could be,
who i want to be,
(who i wish i was)
making homes in my head,
sneering scornfully:
“you will never amount
to anything other than

but ice is hard to draw! my left brain insists

but a rational prism-headed dude would totally dig living in a place made of fractal transparent material! my right brain counters, swiftly ejecting the competitor safely out of the nearest window available to be dashed mercilessly on the concrete below