NationStates Jolt Archive

There are some pretty talented people here, whether it be in photography, painting, singing, or forming life-sized replicas of William Shatner out of mashed potatos (I'm looking at you, LG).

I want you to show us what you've got! Spill it out over the page so we can comment, critique, enjoy.

And because I spent hours upon hours rerecording some songs, I am going to bloody post them as my first contribution. They are all in Cree.

Kisâkîtin (I love you) (http://media.putfile.com/Kisakitin-42)
Wiminihkweskiw (She'll end up a drinker) (http://media.putfile.com/Wiminihkweskiw-85)
Niteh (my heart) (http://media.putfile.com/Niteh-95)
Sakihtowin (http://media.putfile.com/Sakihtowin) (nevermind, it's getting cheesy, just listen to it).

Well... Uh... I can create text adventure games, read quicker then most people, and make awesome Warcraft three maps. *Feels inferior to Neeska's singing ability*

I want Ruffy to post some new fucking pictures. He's been neglecting us since he ran off to college.

a couple non-crowd shots from the obama victory rally last week - pretty much in raw format, no photoshoppery or anything

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3010/3011349944_29a98194d8.jpg http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3247/3024144824_641f6734e2.jpg

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3167/3024134410_e6e5f06eb9.jpg

a couple non-crowd shots from the obama victory rally last week - pretty much in raw format, no photoshoppery or anything

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3010/3011349944_29a98194d8.jpg http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3247/3024144824_641f6734e2.jpg

http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3167/3024134410_e6e5f06eb9.jpg

Ooooh...I really like the second and third one...love the movement in the third, love the crispness of the second. Nice composition in the first! I love good photographs...perhaps even more so because I couldn't take a decent shot to save my life.

I painted part of a picnic table this summer, based on Richard Scary's "I am a Bunny". Not sure I posted all the pics before so whatever, here they are anew perhaps.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1152.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1151.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1238.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1237.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1126.jpg

And here are two of my favs for painting faces:
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1196.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1194.jpg

Holy crap, you're like, completely talented! :eek2: :D

Seriously, you have an amazing voice and the songs are lovely.

For my own bragging -- all of you, get your lazy asses over to the beautiful and scenic industrial wasteland of East Somerville, Massachusetts, for the 20-some-odd annual Brickbottom Artists Association Open Studios event.

http://brickbottomartists.com/open_studios_info
http://www.brickbottomartists.com/

On account of I'm in it.

This is some of what I do:

Collage:
http://jenfries.com/pages/collages_books/page_01/swap_05.jpg

Collage, illustration from one of my artist books:
http://jenfries.com/pages/collages_books/page_03/swap_02.jpg

Object, obviously; constructed from other objects:
http://jenfries.com/pages/figures_objects/figures_objects_01/swap_05.jpg

And another; built out of toys:
http://jenfries.com/pages/figures_objects/figures_objects_02/swap_02.jpg

Oh, also a comic, for people who have to put up with lawyers, or law students.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN0751.jpg

a couple non-crowd shots from the obama victory rally last week - pretty much in raw format, no photoshoppery or anything

Great work, FS.

On account of I'm in it.

This is some of what I do:

http://jenfries.com/pages/collages_books/page_01/swap_05.jpg

http://jenfries.com/pages/collages_books/page_03/swap_02.jpg

http://jenfries.com/pages/figures_objects/figures_objects_01/swap_05.jpg

http://jenfries.com/pages/figures_objects/figures_objects_02/swap_02.jpg
ooooooooooohhhhhhh....I like!

There's this crazy girl here who sort of reminds me of you, who does these wonderful collages and then pics one to dress up as for Halloween. This year she was Broccoli Obama. It shouldn't have worked, but it did.

I really, really like the last two a lot...the first two are great as well, but I have a soft spot for three dimensional work.

Actually, that first one is tripping me out quite a bit. So is the second. I take back my preference, I like them all.

ooooooooooohhhhhhh....I like!

There's this crazy girl here who sort of reminds me of you, who does these wonderful collages and then pics one to dress up as for Halloween. This year she was Broccoli Obama. It shouldn't have worked, but it did.

I really, really like the last two a lot...the first two are great as well, but I have a soft spot for three dimensional work.

Actually, that first one is tripping me out quite a bit. So is the second. I take back my preference, I like them all.
Thanks. Tripping people out is what they're supposed to do. :D

This is something I set up randomly in my Faculty, just to see how people would react. It's not a really great picture of it, but I like doing guerilla weirdness.

It says "We'll do ANYTHING to bring you lower prices" and the skeletons say "Union" and "Environment".

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1729.jpg

Some paintings:
Existential Cumshot:
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1506.jpg
This one was for my kids (Antediluvian Glee):
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1625.jpg
Medicine wheel, beaded:
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1053.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1118.jpg

Thanks. Tripping people out is what they're supposed to do. :D

http://i255.photobucket.com/albums/hh124/cozmo_g/The-Simpsons---Mr-Burns-Excellent--.jpg

This is something I set up randomly in my Faculty, just to see how people would react. It's not a really great picture of it, but I like doing guerilla weirdness.

It says "We'll do ANYTHING to bring you lower prices" and the skeletons say "Union" and "Environment".

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1729.jpg



Heh, now I know, if you and I ever become co-workers, how to tell if you're in the office. :tongue:

Heh, now I know, if you and I ever become co-workers, how to tell if you're in the office. :tongue:

I found a set of plastic cowboys and indians...the possibilities are endless....

I found a set of plastic cowboys and indians...the possibilities are endless....
Random Office Wonk: The hell?! Why is there a miniature massacre spread out all around the lunchroom microwave? How am I supposed to heat my ramen?

Muravyets: AHA!! Neesika is here. She's had her out-of-office message on her voicemail all day, but this proves she's on the premises. SEAL THE EXITS! I need her to sign these forms and, by hell, she'll do it this time!!!

Random Office Wonk: The hell?! Why is there a miniature massacre spread out all around the lunchroom microwave? How am I supposed to heat my ramen?

Muravyets: AHA!! Neesika is here. She's had her out-of-office message on her voicemail all day, but this proves she's on the premises. SEAL THE EXITS! I need her to sign these forms and, by hell, she'll do it this time!!!

Oooooh, microwave....I like it....

Oooooh, microwave....I like it....
Take pictures. :D

Take pictures. :D

Indeed...even better if someone doesn't notice right away.

"I'm melting, I'm melt....."

As far as I know, I am the first person to organize and mastermind the successful ducttaping of a person to a ceiling. *nod*

as far as i know, i am the first person to organize and mastermind the successful ducttaping of a person to a ceiling. *nod*

pictures!

I have absolutely zero talent in anything unless you count procrastination.

Bretonnian Knights I've painted

http://www.ldsknights.org/images/IMG_1671s.JPG

and a work in progress (This is the mount of the Red Duke, a Bretonnian Lord gone vampire):

http://www.ldsknights.org/images/pegpainted1.jpg

Bretonnian Knights I've painted

http://www.ldsknights.org/images/IMG_1671s.JPG

Aaaaaawsome.

I'm too lazy to record and upload myself singing (especially tonight when my allergies are kicking my ass), and I have no photographic stuff on the internet that most of the artsy people around here haven't already seen.

That said, I love Mur's 3D work (and how it's photographed - really nice), FS's photos are shiny, and I have no doubt Neesika would sound lovely if my computer would freaking open those files. :tongue:

Aaaaaawsome.

Thank you sir

I'm not artistic, at all.
I can't even draw a straight line with a ruler. :tongue:

Cerean;14200885']I have absolutely zero talent in anything unless you count procrastination.

This.

Your (collective) stuff is nice, though.

Cerean;14200885']I have absolutely zero talent in anything unless you count procrastination.This.

you guys suck at procrastination. we aren't even on the third page yet here.

Just listening to the first one, and your voice is gorgeous, Sin. Really amazing. You should come sing lullaby's to me.

60717

Here's an arrangement of Silent Night for vocal jazz ensemble I did last year. The ability to read music will help you understand it, but isn't fully necessary.

I fear I have no real artistic talent, some writing, but these days my writing tends to be far more academic than anything else.

I'm too lazy to record and upload myself singing (especially tonight when my allergies are kicking my ass), and I have no photographic stuff on the internet that most of the artsy people around here haven't already seen.

That said, I love Mur's 3D work (and how it's photographed - really nice), FS's photos are shiny, and I have no doubt Neesika would sound lovely if my computer would freaking open those files. :tongue:
Credit where it's due -- the coolest photos are by a good friend of mine who, inexplicably, thinks she's not a photographer. She's got something like talent dysmorphia.

Mur, I shall make a definite effort to make the show Sunday.

Mur, I shall make a definite effort to make the show Sunday.
Yay! :D

There will be snacks and booze.

note I didn't say "I'm going to come", I fear "I definitely promise to try!" is about as good as I'm worth these days.

note I didn't say "I'm going to come", I fear "I definitely promise to try!" is about as good as I'm worth these days.
Good enough. :)

Did I mention the snacks and booze are free? ;)

Good enough. :)

Did I mention the snacks and booze are free? ;)

oh that definitely upps the odds.

Not that your company isn't a big plus, but, hey, free booze. And hey, if we catch lunch, maybe they'll get my order right this time.

oh that definitely upps the odds.

Not that your company isn't a big plus, but, hey, free booze. And hey, if we catch lunch, maybe they'll get my order right this time.
Spirit of hope and adventure, that's what I like to see! :D

for months afterward i waited for him to leave--
to "cast me free", though i'd consented to be caught,
stepped willingly into the steel-sprung trap.
when he didn't, i stopped waiting for freedom
and just waited, quietly, all on its own.
for what? for nothing. for a cosmic explosion.
for divine intervention. for a critical malfunction
to hit this weak hungry heart and finish it off.
to be in love is too few words for that
complicated kind of process, the disengagement of
locks, the peeled back iron shell that covered such a
sick fluttering thing, my wounded-bird heart.
like a smoke detector that won't stop shrieking
i'd tried first to pry out its batteries; then
failing that, i wrapped it up in an old towel
and buried it somewhere deep, and declared the thing
forgotten.



I haven't been able to write anything real in a very long time. I'm pretty sure it has to do with exhaustion and not having a heart anymore.

-snip-

Interesting. I tried poetry once long ago in my angsty college years. There's nothing more disenhearting to try something and to realize that you utterly, truly, horribly and irrevocably suck at it.

I like it, but what the fuck do I know. I'm in the "dogs playing poker" realm of artistic appreciation.

Interesting. I tried poetry once long ago in my angsty college years. There's nothing more disenhearting to try something and to realize that you utterly, truly, horribly and irrevocably suck at it.

Amen. Hence the choral arranging (see earlier post).

Interesting. I tried poetry once long ago in my angsty college years. There's nothing more disenhearting to try something and to realize that you utterly, truly, horribly and irrevocably suck at it.

I like it, but what the fuck do I know. I'm in the "dogs playing poker" realm of artistic appreciation.

I don't let my suckiness deter me at all. :p

Lets see... most of my 'work' has been for websites and stuff lately.. and will probably go without comment like usual.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/SaintB/Spinach.png
I know a man named Trystan Spinch, nickname: Spinach. I drew this for him for some custom decals to put on his show car.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/SaintB/AG.png
Charity work for a website dedicated to blindness awareness. They put up a sub section about online games that are blind accessible. I think NS was one of those...

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v628/SaintB/Irregulars.png
For a clan, or guild, or whatever that plays COD4's web forum. Eddie's Irregulars.

All I got thats new, I been working for S&G on a picture of Optimus Prime dressed like a cowboy.

I don't let my suckiness deter me at all. :p

the difference between the two of us dear, is that apparently you don't suck at it.

But in fairness, I've done some writing, mostly modern fiction short stories, doubt I'd ever show any of it here.

Poking through random stuff; this is a bit of flash-fiction written right after my aunt killed herself.




the open faces of my family are all around me. my norman rockwell uncle laughs and smokes a cigarette, an angel with a slingshot in his back pocket.

"if i could keep you all safe" my grandfather thinks but does not say, because he was raised on yellow fever and k-rations and gunfire that split the sky (and sometimes when lightning strikes he still closes his eyes and sees that other place)

"who would have thought this would bring us here" my aunt asks, with a laconic smile eased open by the mouth of a wine bottle. fever-bright and the sparks in her eyes, trying to make good from the bad, throwing salt over each shoulder. i too am made of these superstitions.

it is heavy august and there is no breeze in orange county; the smoke hangs itself on their lips.

wine pours itself, and unimportant confessions spill from drowsy mouths, and yes, their gazes wander, they cannot hide it. trying not to think the word upstairs, to pull a picture from the confused jumble of their horroroutragepity of what might still lie in wait up there. sleepless, deathless, slid between the cool weight of gucci suits and pooled in the toes of prada shoes. waiting takes no breath at all.

Poking through random stuff; this is a bit of flash-fiction written right after my aunt killed herself.




the open faces of my family are all around me. my norman rockwell uncle laughs and smokes a cigarette, an angel with a slingshot in his back pocket.

"if i could keep you all safe" my grandfather thinks but does not say, because he was raised on yellow fever and k-rations and gunfire that split the sky (and sometimes when lightning strikes he still closes his eyes and sees that other place)

"who would have thought this would bring us here" my aunt asks, with a laconic smile eased open by the mouth of a wine bottle. fever-bright and the sparks in her eyes, trying to make good from the bad, throwing salt over each shoulder. i too am made of these superstitions.

it is heavy august and there is no breeze in orange county; the smoke hangs itself on their lips.

wine pours itself, and unimportant confessions spill from drowsy mouths, and yes, their gazes wander, they cannot hide it. trying not to think the word upstairs, to pull a picture from the confused jumble of their horroroutragepity of what might still lie in wait up there. sleepless, deathless, slid between the cool weight of gucci suits and pooled in the toes of prada shoes. waiting takes no breath at all.

I like it. Though I'm in a rather morose mood this evening as it is

"and He was always in tune."

I would have you...

remember that you heard God
sing in the hollows of my cheeks

when nothing else made noise.

---

"sea salt and your skin."

Back when we were courting love like
wild horses, when we were drops of Tuesday
mornings in the cold and Sunday afternoons
on a bed of grass, we loved
like rockets through the trees and sang

our own songs. Tell me

how I set sail with no paddles to spare and no
sense of direction, and how I
found you anyway. It's the waves, you say,

the waves carried you to me. I didn't see you coming
but I knew you when you landed, knew you
by the stories in your eyes. I've been places
you will never go, they said, and I knew they were right -
but you weren't one of them.

And you say,
You, with all your ocean stories, will understand:

if I am a boat, you are the only shore,
and I am shipwrecked willingly.

---

"and we might drift away from this, but we might drift closer, too."

Lover, I want to melt snow with our body heat. Talk to me about
warm places and pockets where our fingers tangle around
loose coins and threads; tell me
about watching meteor showers in the fields and how
the grass was still warm from the day.

Lover, there are icebergs in our ocean, and I
don't know if our love's big enough for them. Tell me about
paddling to a different shore and skipping rocks there, and how
they travelled farther than you've ever seen and you
took one stone away with you as proof. Tell me
about lessons learnt and how
we're better people now, our little raft bound together
and still floating.

And how the world's
getting warmer and then there's us on the edge,
throwing pebbles like cupid's arrows and hoping
this time our aim is better.

---


*shrugs*

I haven't written in awhile, but I like a few of the things I've written in the past.

I love this poem I wrote and post it every time I can:

She wears my heart on a silver chain and plays me like an instrument.
She plays a song both soft and hard, a melody both divine and horrible at once.
A song of love and loss and lies and of things untold, of the innocence of lovers lost and the burning pain of regret.
She tells me so many wonderful things as she plays, wonderful things I believe and revel in the thought of.
But there is another with a darker heart than my own, a heart more similar to her own darkness.
I deny it, I deny the things before me and claim them to be not true; nurturing the agony that is my love of her.
I sat alone by myself waiting to bask in the light of her once more for though she is dark she shines radiantly for all, especially me.
But now I find myself lost, unknowing of the truth.
Is she mine forever or am I only her instrument to make her music with until she is no longer pleased with it?

I haven't been able to write anything real in a very long time. I'm pretty sure it has to do with exhaustion and not having a heart anymore.

<3
Me, too. On both counts.

Poking through random stuff; this is a bit of flash-fiction written right after my aunt killed herself.




the open faces of my family are all around me. my norman rockwell uncle laughs and smokes a cigarette, an angel with a slingshot in his back pocket.

"if i could keep you all safe" my grandfather thinks but does not say, because he was raised on yellow fever and k-rations and gunfire that split the sky (and sometimes when lightning strikes he still closes his eyes and sees that other place)

"who would have thought this would bring us here" my aunt asks, with a laconic smile eased open by the mouth of a wine bottle. fever-bright and the sparks in her eyes, trying to make good from the bad, throwing salt over each shoulder. i too am made of these superstitions.

it is heavy august and there is no breeze in orange county; the smoke hangs itself on their lips.

wine pours itself, and unimportant confessions spill from drowsy mouths, and yes, their gazes wander, they cannot hide it. trying not to think the word upstairs, to pull a picture from the confused jumble of their horroroutragepity of what might still lie in wait up there. sleepless, deathless, slid between the cool weight of gucci suits and pooled in the toes of prada shoes. waiting takes no breath at all.


Bah, why dont you go sit in a dark room and listen to emo music.


No, kidding. Its good. I likes it.

I haven't been able to write anything real in a very long time. I'm pretty sure it has to do with exhaustion and not having a heart anymore.

I havn't been inspired in about 3 years...

<3
Me, too. On both counts.

And angst used to be so good for inspiration. But real loss just leaves me--out of breath.

And angst used to be so good for inspiration. But real loss just leaves me--out of breath.

ah that's the problem isn't it? Just enough leaves you finding an outlet, but the real deep down loss of it all leaves you struggling just to move.

In time though perspective comes to all things.

A friend of mine ODed yesterday. Still waiting on that perspective.

A friend of mine ODed yesterday. Still waiting on that perspective.

Wow. That blows (understatement, Im aware). My condolences.

Wow. That blows (understatement, Im aware). My condolences.

hm. A tragedy that shocked none, yet shocking all the same. The most staggering and terrifying intellect I had every seen. She did not belong in this world, and should not have been contained by it. Thus, as it does, the universe corrects itself.

The beast slouches towards Bethlehem at its own pace, and does not heed our cries for haste or delay.

A friend of mine ODed yesterday. Still waiting on that perspective.

Sorry to read that.

hm. A tragedy that shocked none, yet shocking all the same. The most staggering and terrifying intellect I had every seen. She did not belong in this world, and should not have been contained by it. Thus, as it does, the universe corrects itself.

The beast slouches towards Bethlehem at its own pace, and does not heed our cries for haste or delay.

That was much, much more poetic than I would have expected from you. Not meaning that as an insult, but youve never revealed your flair for the dramatic here before. I approve.

As an aside, I know what its like when you have something like this happen. Something that, because of the person shouldnt have been suprising, but it doesnt take the edge of.

ah that's the problem isn't it? Just enough leaves you finding an outlet, but the real deep down loss of it all leaves you struggling just to move.

In time though perspective comes to all things.

A friend of mine ODed yesterday. Still waiting on that perspective.
Neo, I'm so sorry.

Neo, I'm so sorry.

aww Mur, you of all people here should know to spare the sentimentality for my sake. This, too, shall pass.

Besides, I can be drunk, depressed and exhausted and STILL manage to pull a Yeats reference out of my ass. That's gotta count for something huh?

aww Mur, you of all people here should know to spare the sentimentality for my sake. This, too, shall pass.

Besides, I can be drunk, depressed and exhausted and STILL manage to pull a Yeats reference out of my ass. That's gotta count for something huh?

Being drunk counts for more.

aww Mur, you of all people here should know to spare the sentimentality for my sake. This, too, shall pass.

Besides, I can be drunk, depressed and exhausted and STILL manage to pull a Yeats reference out of my ass. That's gotta count for something huh?
It does actually. Your ability to maintain your pretentions even in a time of grief speaks...something... of you. ;)

(Better?)

It does actually. Your ability to maintain your pretentions even in a time of grief speaks...something... of you. ;)

(Better?)

quite. One of my favorite poems that I recently got reacquainted with. I'd like to pretend I found it going through some text of leather bound forgotten lore by candlelight.

Truth is I was watching a rerun of Heroes.

Anyway, temporary crack in the facade is all, all better now, shan't happen again.

Truth is I was watching a rerun of Heroes

Fantasising about Hayden Panettiere does make for good distractions.

Some random character paragraphs I wrote.

Lou
My name? Just call me Lou, that's what all the boys in the organization call me. What do I do? I'm a parking attendant; yeah that's right, I'm a parking attendant! I park cars! In the bay... you know? Guys gotta live. I don't feel bad about it, I mean some higher up stooge has got to get rid of a stiff or two and the shoe mason is busy elsewhere he calls me. I know I'm not doing anything wrong.
You see, I work for the Luccianno family, and they work for the Petrucios. The Petrucios work for the Scannelli's; and the Scannellis? They work for the Pope of all people; the fucking Pope! We all know who the Pope works for, he works for God. So I am safe in the knowledge that no matter how many jaggofs I have to dispose of I'm doing it all in the name of God. I'm practically a saint!

Frank
This, is Frank. Wallowing in his own squallor, living off of the unemployment check he recieves without fail every other week. His hair, or what is left of it anyhow, is greasy. Three days of stubble cover all three of his chins and it's beggining to itch; perhaps he should shave it? No, not at all, that would take energy, Frank doesn't have energy. He drains the last of his warm and stale brewski and tosses the can off randomly. This is Frank's domain, and in his domain he isn't particular about where things land. He stares idly at his television set, that fat black hore Oprah Winfrey is taunting him there, to him, she was mocking him.. how could she be rich and not him... and where was that God damned remote? There it is, just out of arms reach, his fingers barely brush it for only an instant as if laughing at the rest of his body's feeble efforts to retrieve it. He tries again and gets even less results. As suddenly as he started, he gives up on his struggle, sinking back in his chair, he resorts to being there alone, in his own personal Hell.

Janet
Janet is that one woman whom you see riding the bus everyday, sitting in the center of the bus, hogging both seats and mumbling under her breath to herself. That woman you skirt passed, and nobody sits next to. If she has the only available seat its standing room only for you. Perhaps that is what she wants? This so called crazy woman muttering to herself on the bus, a place to sit in the public eye without being bothered by anyone. You may never know, you're to afraid to even say good morning to her, and someday you hope that she won't be there. Janet, the crazy bus lady.

ah that's the problem isn't it? Just enough leaves you finding an outlet, but the real deep down loss of it all leaves you struggling just to move.

In time though perspective comes to all things.

A friend of mine ODed yesterday. Still waiting on that perspective.

Someone ODed in front of me about a month ago. I watched someone die. I still don't think I've processed it. I doubt I will for a long, long time. I stopped functioning for a couple days, and then started functioning like it never even happened, and that's still pretty much how I'm running.

And angst used to be so good for inspiration. But real loss just leaves me--out of breath.

Yes. I was so good about writing out my feelings up until a certain point. And past that point, I just... don't have words, anymore. Don't have much of anything. I'm living in the after, so to speak, and god is it quiet here.

Someone ODed in front of me about a month ago. I watched someone die. I still don't think I've processed it. I doubt I will for a long, long time. I stopped functioning for a couple days, and then started functioning like it never even happened, and that's still pretty much how I'm running.


Never seen anything like that, probably because I avoid drugs like the plague... with my mental condition those are the last thing I need.


Yes. I was so good about writing out my feelings up until a certain point. And past that point, I just... don't have words, anymore. Don't have much of anything. I'm living in the after, so to speak, and god is it quiet here.


Been the same way, nothing inspires me anymore. Its sad to have that happen at 24...

My "talent" lies in contraptions like these:

---

Je t'aime comme un fou
And I want you to know too
Dat ik alles voor je doe
Mein ganze Leben, das bist du.

---

Sitting at the bar right here
Je crois qu'on peut vraiment dire
Dat ik na zo'n twintig bier
Völlig mein Verstand verlier'.

---

Cogito ergo sum
Maar in mijn hoofd is slechts gezoem
Und jetzt weiss ich auch warum
In an empty head, there's too much room.

---

But then, those are quite wasted on most of the world's population. :(:D

Anyway, some stuff I've been doing lately:

Panels from a Comic Jam that I'm rather pleased with:

http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a205/ulteriormotives/Single%20Panels/Panel1.png http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a205/ulteriormotives/Single%20Panels/Panel2.png http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a205/ulteriormotives/Single%20Panels/Panel3.png
(completely out of context)

A drawing for German Unity:

http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a205/ulteriormotives/TDE08.png

The map of Real and Fake America I'm working on as it stands right now:

http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a205/ulteriormotives/Map1.png

And penciled roughs of a character from an idea that's been bouncing around in my head:

http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a205/ulteriormotives/BansheePencil.png

Mein ganzes Leben, das bist du.
---
Völlig mein' Verstand verlier'.
I like it. (So please don't think I'm being condescending when pointing out those two errors D= )

Never seen anything like that, probably because I avoid drugs like the plague... with my mental condition those are the last thing I need.

I avoid them, too. This guy overdosed in front of where I work, and I had to call the ambulance. I work a coffee shop just outside of a mall. It's not even in a sketchy area. Honest to god, sometimes I am pissed as hell that I had to be the one there.

There are some pretty talented people here, whether it be in photography, painting, singing, or forming life-sized replicas of William Shatner out of mashed potatos (I'm looking at you, LG).

I want you to show us what you've got! Spill it out over the page so we can comment, critique, enjoy.

And because I spent hours upon hours rerecording some songs, I am going to bloody post them as my first contribution. They are all in Cree.

Kisâkîtin (I love you) (http://media.putfile.com/Kisakitin-42)
Wiminihkweskiw (She'll end up a drinker) (http://media.putfile.com/Wiminihkweskiw-85)
Niteh (my heart) (http://media.putfile.com/Niteh-95)
Sakihtowin (http://media.putfile.com/Sakihtowin) (nevermind, it's getting cheesy, just listen to it).

The only thing I've really created recently(because I keep expecting to ship out to boot camp and then get rolled back) is a map of the world of GM...

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v625/PIcaRDMPC/gmworldmaplegend3.png

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v625/PIcaRDMPC/gmworldmap3.png

But I would like to get back to actually creating something worthwhile. I'm not sure what yet.

Wow, I feel rather pathetic compared to our NSG artistes.

I shouldn't show my face in here again...

A bad experience recently taught me not to show my poems in a forum. Sorry guys.

Some of my pix online. I should really get around to updating with my latest work. But the picture of the doggie is nice.

http://www.gulfphotoplus.com/gppnew/Gallery.php?GalCat=0&PHID=6261&Submit=SHOW

This isn't meant to be much of anything, but I wrote it just now, so here it is:

tried looking into the light but i went blind
tried staring into the abyss but my eyes could not get used to the dark
tried looking in the mirror but didn't like what I saw
tried examining the world for an answer or at least a spark

tried cleaning out the corners of my mind
got halfway through then decided that it wasn't worth the strain
tried self-examination to address and perhaps fix my flaws
decided i'd rather not because it's so much fun to be insane

tried hoping against hope it would turn out all right
but it didn't so i guess that i must have not hoped enough
wondered what happens to those we love after they die
i hope they're not looking down on me when i'm...doing stuff

tried listening to the wavelength of sunlight
but i realized that i was unable to hear a sound
tried trying but that didn't work so I guess I
will ramble incoherently in the hopes of saying something profound.

Neesika, you have a gorgeous voice.

Here's an arrangement of Silent Night for vocal jazz ensemble I did last year. The ability to read music will help you understand it, but isn't fully necessary.

Harmony is lovely, much better than Grüber managed. :)

Here's a recording (with several mistakes) of a piece I wrote last year:

Octet (http://people.pwf.cam.ac.uk/dtr24/Octet.mp3)

Might upload some recent photos later.

-snip awesomeness-

Jesus fucking Christ, you can paint? This is so unfair. Why are some people so utterly talaneltess, and there come people like you who are beautiful, smart, and artsily talented in so many ways all at once?



Cogito ergo sum
Maar in mijn hoofd is slechts gezoem
Und jetzt weiss ich auch warum
In an empty head, there's too much room.


This one I like a lot :]

I suck at anything remotely artsy - my voice is shit and I cannot hold a tune to save my life; my drawings look like a retarded three-year-old had drawn them, and my acting has gone down shit creek too (or has it always been this bad and I've been thoroughly deluded before? Who knows).

I only do words, and even then half of what I write is either terribly labored or chronically unfunny, or both. Here's one piece that I wrote after having been loosely inspired by "Warning - When I'm An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple (http://lorry.org/Docs/Poems/Other/oldwoman.html)":

Warning


When I leave this flat for good, I shall not go quietly.
I will not smile.
I will not nod.
I will not carefully step over your things on the floor.
I will not do your dishes on top of mine.
I will not empty the trashcan when it's your turn; I will not wash your shirts no more, and I sure as hell will not iron them for you.


When I leave this flat for good, I shall make you pay.
I will scream.
I will yell.
I will empty the trashcan into your bed, and I'll use your shirts to wipe it clean.
I will smash your family china against the wall.
I will stomp on everything on the floor, and if your most valued possessions aren't there yet, I will fetch them and dance on their grave, too.
And it will feel good.
And then I'll nod, and then I'll smile.
And maybe I'll leave you a thank-you note : Thanks for the opportunity.



P.S. Yes, "angry writing" accounts for about four fifths of what I do. It just comes naturally, you know?

...my drawings look like a retarded three-year-old had drawn them,...That's how everyone starts off. The only way to get better is to avoid being discouraged and keep at it.

That's how everyone starts off. The only way to get better is to avoid being discouraged and keep at it.

Yes, that's how they start off - at three years old.

No, seriously, you underestimate the problem. I've received an "ungenügend" in Kunst for "Themaverfehlung" for some of my "art" - and I was NOT trying to be all rebel or whatever; I was in fact doing my darndest to do exactly what we were supposed ot do, but the above tells you just how much I sucked at it: so much that it was not even recognizable as the thing it was supposed to be.

As I said, like a three year old. You always have to ask them what the stuff they drew is too.

Yes, that's how they start off - at three years old.

No, seriously, you underestimate the problem. I've received an "ungenügend" in Kunst for "Themaverfehlung" for some of my "art" - and I was NOT trying to be all rebel or whatever; I was in fact doing my darndest to do exactly what we were supposed ot do, but the above tells you just how much I sucked at it: so much that it was not even recognizable as the thing it was supposed to be.

As I said, like a three year old. You always have to ask them what the stuff they drew is too.That happens to accomplished artists as well. Here's something from a comicking forum I frequent:
Renegade Hamster! D=
It was supposed to be a bear =(

Just listening to the first one, and your voice is gorgeous, Sin. Really amazing. You should come sing lullaby's to me.

Hmmm, let me think about it. Sitting beside Ryadn's bed, while she relaxes in whatever delicious amount of undressedness she prefers for sleep, crooning soft songs so she falls asleep...and then? Then do I let myself out, content that she has achieved such blissful unconsciousness?

Oh hell no, I do NOT.

Deal.

Mur, I shall make a definite effort to make the show Sunday.

I'm jealous that you can attend, whilst I, thousands of kilometers away, simply cannot.

Hmmm, let me think about it. Sitting beside Ryadn's bed, while she relaxes in whatever delicious amount of undressedness she prefers for sleep, crooning soft songs so she falls asleep...and then? Then do I let myself out, content that she has achieved such blissful unconsciousness?

Oh hell no, I do NOT.

Deal.So you write, er..., romance novels as well? =P

Hmmm, let me think about it. Sitting beside Ryadn's bed, while she relaxes in whatever delicious amount of undressedness she prefers for sleep, crooning soft songs so she falls asleep...and then? Then do I let myself out, content that she has achieved such blissful unconsciousness?

Oh hell no, I do NOT.

Deal.

Pics or it didn't happen.

I guess, since nobody can dig the choral arrangement, I'll post an example of my writing. I steal from Douglas Adams and Tom Robbins liberally. This is an introduction to the history of my personal line of mix CDs called "Mass Good Tunes", which began in 1979. Enjoy!

MASS GOOD TUNES – BEHIND THE MUSIC
(No names have been changed – nobody’s innocent.)
by Carmine Canestapler

Mass Good Tunes began, as so many things did, in the haze and heat of summer, 1979. Nathan’s brother, Paul, with his new boom-box complete with detachable cassette walkman, wanted to compile a cassette filled with all the highlights of his burgeoning collection of vinyl albums. With far too much instruction from our father, who rightly was very leery to have either Paul or Nathan use his audio equipment unsupervised, Paul went about the task of picking records, ordering them, timing the tracks (time listings were inconsistent or just not present on vinyl), and figuring out how to fit them on two forty-five minute sides of a standard ninety-minute cassette.

After some trial and error (the blood of Dad, the Polish Dubbing Disaster ran through our veins), he had crafted his perfect mélange of hits from all across the spectrum of his collection in 1979: The Cars, Boston, The Tubes, Olivia Newton-John (if you ever meet him and tell him I told you that one and I will deny even knowing who you are), Huey Lewis and the News, The Police, and more. The enjoyment of the fruits of his labor by himself and those he shared it with prompted him to dub another cassette, imaginatively titled “Mass Good Tunes, Vol. 2”.

Alas, Volume Two would be the last of Paul’s foray into musical anthology recordings. It’s not known exactly why, though speculation centers on three possibilities: his having far better things to do with his time, his discovery of willing members of the opposite sex, and his eventual enlistment into the armed forces. The Olio Muses would have to lie dormant until another, more dedicated and far nerdier vessel into which they might pour their inspiration, arrived.

Fortunately, the wait wasn’t long. Christmas of 1984 saw the introduction of Nathan’s own dub-capable mini-stereo. Nathan had inherited Paul’s two anthologies when Paul cleaned out his basement room of the family’s first (and only) house in Lake Stevens, WA. The novelty and convenience of having his favorite songs in one place without suffering through commercials or insipid DJs talking over opening or closing instrumental sections appealed greatly to Nathan’s creativity and love of good, static-free music.

Thus it was that Mass Good Tunes Volume Three was born, though it was by no means an easy delivery. Nathan had done a favor for his best friend Andy by ordering records from Columbia House for him. The fact that he was doing this for Andy because Andy’s own parents wouldn’t allow him to didn’t faze Nathan – well, it would have had Nathan actually took the time to think about that particular problem. Anyway, when Andy failed to get Nathan the money to pay for the dozen or so records that arrived by mail (much to the enraged surprise of his mother) Nathan knew he had to act quickly while Mom was at work.

He activated his dubbing setup and went about the task of choosing the best tunes from the illicit haul he’d received. This is no fast operation, because dubbing before the advent of even high-speed dual-deck cassette players, let alone CDs and later iTunes, meant each song had to play all the way through in real time. Two hours later, seminal cuts from albums like Michael Jackson’s Thriller, Men At Work’s Business As Usual, and The Police’s swan song Synchronicity were magnetically imprinted on a clear-blue-plastic-cased, ninety-minute, Scotch™-brand cassette. As Nathan’s ass was being welted in just punishment for ordering vinyl from the Recording Mafia behind his mother’s back, the intense pain of seemingly endless thwacks with The Wooden Spoon was ameliorated somewhat by the notion that he’d managed to make that tape before having to re-package the records and return them to those money-grubbing fuckwads at Columbia.

Volume Three was also the last anthology to use stylus-on-vinyl technology. As Nathan finally grew into being able to work and earn his own money, the frequency of Mass Good Tunes entries increased. It was at Volume VI that he realized that he might be able to impress a potential girlfriend into liking him, despite his gawkiness and social ineptitude, by supplying the damsel in question with a tape containing songs designed to get an already blindingly obvious point across: “I am hopelessly and irrationally in love with you despite your being superior to me by at least four castes.” Volume X saw the end of another era as the use of Roman numerals was discarded in favor of more efficient and less pretentious (though politically unstable) Arabic numerals.

Volume 11 also saw the first subtitled edition of MGT. Called “Merry Whatever”, it was presented to a painfully unrequited crush named Lisa for Christmas of 1986. Over the years between then and now, Volumes 12 through 39 have been given to a wide variety of women (and the occasional male friend) who, for one or another reason, made their way into and out of Nathan’s life. In 1988, Nathan worked at a franchise of the now-mostly-defunct mass-media store The Wherehouse. Although he worked in video rentals (back when renting meant you had to write the store a check for $75 to be kept on file as long as you were a customer just in case a video didn’t make it back), he spent a lot of his time (and most of his paychecks) in the music section buying cassettes and marveling at the long cardstock boxes that contained the precious “jewel cases” which themselves contained those new-fangled “CDs”. Nathan lost that job despite properly telling his supervisor (an irritable pixie named Tonya) that he had a performance to give on a weekend. How the penciled-in date on the boss’s calendar got erased is still a mystery.

In 1995, Volume 30 (“NOFM: No Fake Music”) was given to a soulless granola girl with numerous allergies named Linée, whose personal issues ran so deep, she refused to even believe in the word “love” – instead, settling for Nathan’s desperate eleventh-hour invention of the term “lomp” as a four-letter substitute for, well, whatever it was she was doing to him. With hindsight, Nathan now better defines what she was doing as “heartless manipulation” – and while he was indeed a willing participant, it didn’t change the fact that the 75-minute Everett-to-Sumner commute for personal abuse and very sparse nookie was a long way to go.

As Nathan began his teaching career, he found himself making MGT compilations for students looking to expand their musical horizons and repertoires. These recordings were primarily laden with classic jazz vocals and instrumentals with some jazz-influenced pop thrown in to keep their attention. However, on a couple of very rare occasions, he had the opportunity to once again use his now massive CD collection (by now he’d discovered used CD stores, hallelujah) to potentially positive (and age-appropriate, in case the Office of the Superintendent of Public Instruction is reading this) wooing effect.

Volume 34 (“Songs to Mend a Migraine”) was thoughtfully stocked with soothing instrumentals and dulcet voices to try and relax the migraine-plagued mind of Cassandra. She was a single mother for whom Nathan cared very much but for whom he was only remotely ready, given the instant responsibility that would have been inherited had he been mature enough to handle it. Thankfully, she had the good sense from experience to make him only a tangent in her son’s life until he’d proven himself worthy, which was not really a problem because Nathan already knew himself not to be. In keeping with the humorously insouciant nature of this narrative, however, it should be noted that Cassandra was, as a result of the aforementioned migraines and perhaps some other undiagnosed issue, completely unable to orgasm. I’m not making excuses; I’m just throwing that out there.

Two more recent volumes (#38: “Thomas Dolby Gothic” and #39: “Rare Cuts and Leftovers”) were dubbed for Kymberlee. She was a lovely, intelligent, musically inclined girl Nathan met on a plane from Osaka to San Francisco back in 1990. True to Nathan’s luck, Kym was from Flagstaff, Arizona (of course, ‘cause why would he ever meet someone nearby who was compatible?) and another very good match. So, like at least a dozen otherwise girlfriendable young women in Nathan’s experience (who were fortunately never around him long enough to experience what he’s like on a regular basis), they became pen pals over the course of several years (the spark was their mutual affinity for the music of Thomas Dolby, which in Nathan’s experience was as rare in a woman as praseodymium is in topsoil). Another similarity these dozen or so denizens of distance shared was that they eventually stopped writing as they discovered their own paths – and local men. The first (and longest-lived at eight years) of this breed of geographically unavailable matches was Cindy from Hermiston, Oregon (met in 1986 at Jazz Camp) for whom Volumes 13-15 (“The Fluffy Chronicles”), 18 (“So What’s a Few Hundred Miles?”), 20-22 (“The College Cycle”) and 25 (“We’re Still Not Married”) were composed. Kym was just another reinforcement of what Nathan now refers to as The 500-Mile Rule. As a teenager, it was the 50-Mile Rule, and its boundary seemed to grow as more and more modes of transportation became available to him. This rule was, and still is, hard and fast. In fact, the only time he defied it was in a grossly ill-fated and ill-conceived attempt to marry Heather – a certified catastrophe that has been detailed elsewhere (a telling detail is that she never received an MGT volume).

The first MGT to be recorded via digital means and media was #40, “Hook Tester”, so named because a) it was a test of the then-recently solved technology problem and, b) all the songs included had irresistible hook melodies in them. It was good walking, moving, cleaning, jaunting and/or cavorting music. Volumes with coherent threads of meaning and deep lyrical connotation running through them are followed: #41 “Themes and Variations” and #42 “Stories and Opinions”. Those last three were compiled for Miranda, who turned out to be unbelievably sensitive to even the smallest gaffe on Nathan’s part and dropped him like a hot rock on Valentine’s Day 2005 after he forgot he had a jazz ensemble rehearsal on the third day of a weekend together.
You hold in your hand the first MGT collection to have been assembled and burned completely from iTunes. This marks yet another technological advance in a long line stretching all the way back to the forbidden turntable Nathan’s dad purchased during the death of disco.

Mass Good Tunes has come a long way from the flooded basement of 19th Street in 1979 Lake Stevens. Twenty-nine years and even 1300 miles later, the motives may have changed…well, actually, they haven’t changed all that much, really. But the music sure has. We here at Three-Four Productions are proud to present this culmination of technology and musical experience and we hope you agree that these are (regardless of the evolution of slang since ’79) Mass Good Tunes.

– Carmine Canestapler, President & CEO, Three-Four Productions

60717

Here's an arrangement of Silent Night for vocal jazz ensemble I did last year. The ability to read music will help you understand it, but isn't fully necessary.

I can read music, but it's odd and artificial for me, because I do everything by ear. It's like reading how to build a bird house...I'm better off seeing someone do it. I'd love to hear this!

Also, you should come and make sheet, sheet music with me.











Yes. I went there.

for months afterward i waited for him to leave--
to "cast me free", though i'd consented to be caught,
stepped willingly into the steel-sprung trap.
when he didn't, i stopped waiting for freedom
and just waited, quietly, all on its own.
for what? for nothing. for a cosmic explosion.
for divine intervention. for a critical malfunction
to hit this weak hungry heart and finish it off.
to be in love is too few words for that
complicated kind of process, the disengagement of
locks, the peeled back iron shell that covered such a
sick fluttering thing, my wounded-bird heart.
like a smoke detector that won't stop shrieking
i'd tried first to pry out its batteries; then
failing that, i wrapped it up in an old towel
and buried it somewhere deep, and declared the thing
forgotten.



I haven't been able to write anything real in a very long time. I'm pretty sure it has to do with exhaustion and not having a heart anymore.

It'll come back, and it's lovely.

Interesting. I tried poetry once long ago in my angsty college years. There's nothing more disenhearting to try something and to realize that you utterly, truly, horribly and irrevocably suck at it.

I like it, but what the fuck do I know. I'm in the "dogs playing poker" realm of artistic appreciation.
Who cares what 'realm of artistic appreciation' you're in? It's like wine. Here are the wines you're supposed to like because people who know a lot about wine say so...but here is the cheap bottle you actually enjoy...what does that mean? You have bad taste? Pffft..."You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves".

Neesika, you have a gorgeous voice.

Harmony is lovely, much better than Grüber managed. :)

Here's a recording (with several mistakes) of a piece I wrote last year:

Octet (http://people.pwf.cam.ac.uk/dtr24/Octet.mp3)

Might upload some recent photos later.

Well, Grüber can't be blamed for hipness evolving after he died. Thank you.

Your piece is excellent! It manages to have an quasi-aleatoric sound while still sounding very pleasant. It reminds me of Respighi with shades of Bartok. Congratulations!

I write. Unfortunately, when my computer broke, with it went everything I had written. Well, gotta start again. My main work was a story about mercenaries working for the Western Mercenary Union(yes, I took my nation name from it) in a war between the WMU and the Eastern Mercenary Coalition. The main character was an astrophysicist, who couldn't land a job in that field. So he went and got a job as a merc.

I can read music, but it's odd and artificial for me, because I do everything by ear. It's like reading how to build a bird house...I'm better off seeing someone do it. I'd love to hear this!

Also, you should come and make sheet, sheet music with me.











Yes. I went there.

How could I leaf you alone after such a reaming? Or am I preaching to the quire?

I guess puns are a gift, too, of a sort.

Sweetness, making music with you would be a highlight of my existence.

I do have a recording of the arrangement, but I don't think it'll fit as an attachment here. Any idea where I could upload it in order to link to it?

Intangelon, I like that arrangement. Very nice. I may steal it to use sometime. :)

NA, you has TG.

I really appreciate that you people are sharing your poems and prose here...it's beautiful.

Intangelon, I like that arrangement. Very nice. I may steal it to use sometime. :)

NA, you has TG.

Most kind! I'm looking for a way to share the recording here. It's an 8M mp3 file, so it's WAY too large for Jolt.

EDIT: And feel free to use it if you want to. All I want is credit. My publisher won't touch it 'cause...well actually, he never said why. Regardless, it's public domain, so have at it.

Most kind! I'm looking for a way to share the recording here. It's an 8M mp3 file, so it's WAY too large for Jolt.Try and chop it up. Not an optimal solution, but people might be able to download the pieces and listen to them in order.

Jesus fucking Christ, you can paint? This is so unfair. Why are some people so utterly talaneltess, and there come people like you who are beautiful, smart, and artsily talented in so many ways all at once? I can paint...I just don't think I'm particularly great at it :P

My talent goes nowhere dahling...and people complain all the time that I waste myself, while I am content doing so.




I only do words, and even then half of what I write is either terribly labored or chronically unfunny, or both. Here's one piece that I wrote after having been loosely inspired by "Warning - When I'm An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple (http://lorry.org/Docs/Poems/Other/oldwoman.html)":


P.S. Yes, "angry writing" accounts for about four fifths of what I do. It just comes naturally, you know? Oooooh, I like angry. Quite a lot!

So you write, er..., romance novels as well? =P

I wish I'd kept some of the porn...erm, 'erotica' I've written.

I write stories and essays, but don't usually finish them, and haven't had the impetus to write in a while now. I write works of music, but don't play or sing, and also don't usually finish them. I used to do a lot of photography, but not much anymore, and most of the old photos are sitting on my hard drive unused.

Smell that? That's wasted artistic talent. >.<

I guess, since nobody can dig the choral arrangement, I'll post an example of my writing. I steal from Douglas Adams and Tom Robbins liberally. This is an introduction to the history of my personal line of mix CDs called "Mass Good Tunes", which began in 1979. Enjoy!

MASS GOOD TUNES – BEHIND THE MUSIC
(No names have been changed – nobody’s innocent.)
by Carmine Canestapler

*snip*
Yay! I love this style!

I wish I'd kept some of the porn...erm, 'erotica' I've written.Looks like both you and Western Mercenary Union should get an external hard drive and back yo' shiat up!

My computer died (well, in theory I could still use parts of it) last December, but all my drawings are safe and sound on my external drive. And on my second one, just in case.

How could I leaf you alone after such a reaming? Or am I preaching to the quire?

I guess puns are a gift, too, of a sort.

Sweetness, making music with you would be a highlight of my existence.

I do have a recording of the arrangement, but I don't think it'll fit as an attachment here. Any idea where I could upload it in order to link to it?

I put everything on putfile...it doesn't work for everyone, takes forever to upload, and forever to buffer, but it's the only solution I've found.

Looks like both you and Western Mercenary Union should get an external hard drive and back yo' shiat up! I deliberately got rid of mine because it was compromising...and my ex was insane and snoopy.

My computer died (well, in theory I could still use parts of it) last December, but all my drawings are safe and sound on my external drive. And on my second one, just in case.This is what I do as well.

I deliberately got rid of mine because it was compromising...and my ex was insane and snoopy.That sucks.
This is what I do as well.It's paying off. My one drive is having issues with the connection and keeps disconnecting itself.

Try and chop it up. Not an optimal solution, but people might be able to download the pieces and listen to them in order.

How does one chop up an mp3? I'm pretty sure that's not an iTunes feature yet.

How does one chop up an mp3? I'm pretty sure that's not an iTunes feature yet.Audacity (http://audacity.sourceforge.net/) is one option. Save the segments as separate mp3s.

Okay, I tried MediaFire. I hope it works.

My writing is the first 1:27 of the file.

I hope you like the reharmonization of a classic.

http://www.mediafire.com/file/znaghlvctoy/Silent Night '07.mp3

EDIT: You'll have to download the file to play it, but I assure you my compy is clean. It's a Mac, after all. Also, the choir in question is my ensemble from the University of Mary in Bismarck, North Dakota from December 2007.

Okay, I tried MediaFire. I hope it works.

My writing is the first 1:27 of the file.

I hope you like the reharmonization of a classic.

http://www.mediafire.com/file/znaghlvctoy/Silent Night '07.mp3

EDIT: You'll have to download the file to play it, but I assure you my compy is clean. It's a Mac, after all. Also, the choir in question is my ensemble from the University of Mary in Bismarck, North Dakota from December 2007.

Oooooh, thank you! I really like the odd harmonies at the beginning! I've been trying to come up with better harmonies for some of my songs, but it's actually rather difficult to do 'on the fly'. I'd be better off writing it out, but that's just so much more planning than I like to do!

I'm still listening...lovely, very lovely!

Oooooh, thank you! I really like the odd harmonies at the beginning! I've been trying to come up with better harmonies for some of my songs, but it's actually rather difficult to do 'on the fly'. I'd be better off writing it out, but that's just so much more planning than I like to do!

I'm still listening...lovely, very lovely!
Now I wish I hadn't forgotten my earphones at home... ='(

I am really blown away by the talent on NSG.

Oooooh, thank you! I really like the odd harmonies at the beginning! I've been trying to come up with better harmonies for some of my songs, but it's actually rather difficult to do 'on the fly'. I'd be better off writing it out, but that's just so much more planning than I like to do!

I'm still listening...lovely, very lovely!

Thank you very much. That means a lot coming from you.

Reharmonization is kind of a specialty of mine. I'm not much of a composer, so I consider myself to be the Japanese auto industry of choral music. I can take extant material and rework it into something similar but different. It's kinda like being a very good cover band that doesn't try to sound like the original but puts its own spin on the songs they choose.

Should you ever like, I could suggest new chords for your melodies.

I am really blown away by the talent on NSG.

As am I. We rule. I was always proud to be here, and now I'm doubly proud.

As am I. We rule. I was always proud to be here, and now I'm doubly proud.We're largely a collection of introverts with no life. It's only logical that some of us are artists. =P

Thank you very much. That means a lot coming from you.

Reharmonization is kind of a specialty of mine. I'm not much of a composer, so I consider myself to be the Japanese auto industry of choral music. I can take extant material and rework it into something similar but different. It's kinda like being a very good cover band that doesn't try to sound like the original but puts its own spin on the songs they choose.

Should you ever like, I could suggest new chords for your melodies.

That would seriously, seriously rock. When I have some more time to spend on music, I may send you some rough recordings to get some ideas! Danke!

We're largely a collection of introverts with no life. It's only logical that some of us are artists. =P

Hey! I resent that! I manage to be ridiculousy introverted AND extroverted at the same time. I never have as much life as I want, while having entirely too much life and not enough time. My artistry is born out of a need to procrastinate :D

We're largely a collection of introverts with no life. It's only logical that some of us are artists. =P

Of course! I'm sick at home today, but yeah, I spend at least an hour a day here. What can I say, I'm alone in a new city, and I like many of you.

That would seriously, seriously rock. When I have some more time to spend on music, I may send you some rough recordings to get some ideas! Danke!

Bitte schön, baby.

Hey! I resent that! I manage to be ridiculousy introverted AND extroverted at the same time. I never have as much life as I want, while having entirely too much life and not enough time. My artistry is born out of a need to procrastinate :D

I always forget what procrastrination means.

Hey! I resent that! I manage to be ridiculousy introverted AND extroverted at the same time. I never have as much life as I want, while having entirely too much life and not enough time. My artistry is born out of a need to procrastinate :D

Agreed completely. I was fortunate enough to turn my artistry into a career.

As am I. We rule. I was always proud to be here, and now I'm doubly proud.

Yeah, but it does kind of make you a little embarrassed to post anything of your own.

Oooooh, thank you! I really like the odd harmonies at the beginning! I've been trying to come up with better harmonies for some of my songs, but it's actually rather difficult to do 'on the fly'. I'd be better off writing it out, but that's just so much more planning than I like to do!

I'm still listening...lovely, very lovely!

You sing in Cree too, right Neesi-chama?

I always forget what procrastrination means.

Look it up, later.

Yeah, but it does kind of make you a little embarrassed to post anything of your own.

True -- this is a first for me.

Hey! I resent that! I manage to be ridiculousy introverted AND extroverted at the same time. I never have as much life as I want, while having entirely too much life and not enough time. My artistry is born out of a need to procrastinate :DWell, I did say largely. I suppose I should have pulled out the "We're all damaged goods, in one way or another" line, but I couldn't figure out how to tie it to the artsy bit.

My artistry has been fueled by my need to tell stories. And since the main character in one has freckles, I feel the need to get it told in comic form (eventually):

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v91/achim/stump%20hard/3.png
(style unceremoniously stolen from Kate Ashwin of Darken (http://darkencomic.com))
Of course! I'm sick at home today, but yeah, I spend at least an hour a day here. What can I say, I'm alone in a new city, and I like many of you.>=D
Yeah, but it does kind of make you a little embarrassed to post anything of your own.I just got my ass kicked in a Deathmatch Tournament of Mundane Situations on another forum. Kicked so badly it wasn't funny anymore, despite my opponent's computer dying and her tendinitis.

Nice sequential artwork there, Laerod.

Screw it, I'll post something:
I'm in a funk band and also an electronica duo and this is the last song I composed for that (the electronica duo, not the band):

http://www.mediafire.com/?ynwuzgd4kmk

This isn't the finished product, we're going to add vocals to it to stop it from being really repetitive, but I'm not sure what kind of vocals it requires, or even if it's a vocal friendly song? Suggestions would be appreciated (also apparently this file doesn't play properly on some media players for some reason).

Nice sequential artwork there, Laerod.In case you're referring to the other stuff in the album that came from, only the French soldier is another one of mine.

In case you're referring to the other stuff in the album that came from, only the French soldier is another one of mine.

You mean the Comic Jam and 10th Anniversary of Reunification drawings weren't yours?

Screw it, I'll post something:
I'm in a funk band and also an electronica duo and this is the last song I composed for that (the electronica duo, not the band):

http://www.mediafire.com/?ynwuzgd4kmk

This isn't the finished product, we're going to add vocals to it to stop it from being really repetitive, but I'm not sure what kind of vocals it requires, or even if it's a vocal friendly song? Suggestions would be appreciated (also apparently this file doesn't play properly on some media players for some reason).

Nice! Has a kind of Euro-funk feel from the 80s without sounding cheesy. As it is (without a lyric) it would be an excellent video game soundtrack. Possible marketing there.

Well, Grüber can't be blamed for hipness evolving after he died. Thank you.

Hehe :) Sounds good in performance as well.

Your piece is excellent! It manages to have an quasi-aleatoric sound while still sounding very pleasant. It reminds me of Respighi with shades of Bartok. Congratulations!

Thanks :) Bartok I was quite conscious of, not Respighi, though. I only know the Fountains (though very good they are). What do you mean by 'quasi-aleatoric'?

I don't have any decent recordings of me singing solo, but here's a recording (non-professional) of my choir doing some lovely Parry last year:

There is an old belief (http://people.pwf.cam.ac.uk/dtr24/Parry%20-%20There%20is%20an%20old%20belief.mp3).

Hehe :) Sounds good in performance as well.



Thanks :) Bartok I was quite conscious of, not Respighi, though. I only know the Fountains (though very good they are). What do you mean by 'quasi-aleatoric'?

I don't have any decent recordings of me singing solo, but here's a recording (non-professional) of my choir doing some lovely Parry last year:

There is an old belief (http://people.pwf.cam.ac.uk/dtr24/Parry%20-%20There%20is%20an%20old%20belief.mp3).

That IS lovely. I'm looking that up -- is that Charles Hubert Hastings Parry? How many in that choir? Their tone is fantastic, and the blend is seamless!

"Aleatoric" means "random", and is used to describe music that is not intentionally patterned or organized in rhythms or pitches (usually both). The classic example is John Cage, and to a lesser extent, Charles Ives and Bartok. If you liked Respighi's Fountains of Rome, try Pines of Rome, and for choral stuff, try Laud to the Nativity -- it's less adventurous, but very pretty.

it would be an excellent video game soundtrack. Possible marketing there.

Yeah, but also using video game like sounds in electronic music is kind of in at the moment, at least in the UK.

Yeah, but also using video game like sounds in electronic music is kind of in at the moment, at least in the UK.

Aha -- kinda like an All Your Base Are Belong To Us kind of thing?

Aha -- kinda like an All Your Base Are Belong To Us kind of thing?

Hmm, not really. Just the grittiness and sharp attack 8 bit synths have can really compliment a track, makes it sound a little more edgy, which sounds good in a club with a decent sound system. Although it's a bit of a deviation from the stuff we usually do.

Hmm, not really. Just the grittiness and sharp attack 8 bit synths have can really compliment a track, makes it sound a little more edgy, which sounds good in a club with a decent sound system. Although it's a bit of a deviation from the stuff we usually do.

Got it. Sounds cool.

EDIT: Though the AYBABTU techno mix uses similar 8-bit tones for that effect, IIRC.

That IS lovely. I'm looking that up -- is that Charles Hubert Hastings Parry? How many in that choir? Their tone is fantastic, and the blend is seamless!

He's only really known by the name Hubert. There's a series called 'Songs for farewell' that that one is taken from; all of them are lovely.

Thanks :) There were about 25 or so (I don't remember that day, it varied, but perhaps 8,6,5,6). It was one of the best anthems of that year. It's great to listen to it and realise I'm singing in it.

Incidentally, we're going on tour to New York and Boston this December, I would encourage people to look out for it if you're in the area.

"Aleatoric" means "random", and is used to describe music that is not intentionally patterned or organized in rhythms or pitches (usually both). The classic example is John Cage, and to a lesser extent, Charles Ives and Bartok. If you liked Respighi's Fountains of Rome, try Pines of Rome, and for choral stuff, try Laud to the Nativity -- it's less adventurous, but very pretty.

Yeah, I suppose the opening is quite anti-uniform, but in a sense it could sound random but be very organised: the start of the fast section is imitative with parts beginning on each crotchet and then each quaver (in 4/4) so very hard to distinguish. There's a lot of fugal/fugato stuff, and many, many 4ths (thank you, Bartok).

I will look up that choral Respighi as I know nothing in that genre by him, and I do enjoy his orchestral stuff (it's the series of three '...of Rome' that I remember). Ives is pretty cool, I love 'The Unanswered Question'.

He's only really known by the name Hubert. There's a series called 'Songs for farewell' that that one is taken from; all of them are lovely.

Thanks :) There were about 25 or so (I don't remember that day, it varied, but perhaps 8,6,5,6). It was one of the best anthems of that year. It's great to listen to it and realise I'm singing in it.

Incidentally, we're going on tour to New York and Boston this December, I would encourage people to look out for it if you're in the area.



Yeah, I suppose the opening is quite anti-uniform, but in a sense it could sound random but be very organised: the start of the fast section is imitative with parts beginning on each crotchet and then each quaver (in 4/4) so very hard to distinguish. There's a lot of fugal/fugato stuff, and many, many 4ths (thank you, Bartok).

I will look up that choral Respighi as I know nothing in that genre by him, and I do enjoy his orchestral stuff (it's the series of three '...of Rome' that I remember). Ives is pretty cool, I love 'The Unanswered Question'.

As do I, though my favorite of his is Symphony #3: The Camp Meeting, or his organ work Variations on "America".

aww Mur, you of all people here should know to spare the sentimentality for my sake. This, too, shall pass.

Besides, I can be drunk, depressed and exhausted and STILL manage to pull a Yeats reference out of my ass. That's gotta count for something huh?

Yeats heals a lot.

And "this too shall pass" is my mantra, damn it. But still true.

Yeats heals a lot.

And "this too shall pass" is my mantra, damn it. But still true.

too bad, I called it and I'm older than you (not by much, but the principle is the same).

Age before beauty etc. etc.

quite. One of my favorite poems that I recently got reacquainted with. I'd like to pretend I found it going through some text of leather bound forgotten lore by candlelight.

Truth is I was watching a rerun of Heroes.

Anyway, temporary crack in the facade is all, all better now, shan't happen again.

Strange coincidence, it's been on my mind a lot lately. During a really boring seminar I was sketching a picture in my notebook, just a tree and clouds and a hawk and shadows, and thought "the falcon can not hear the falconer"

Strange coincidence, it's been on my mind a lot lately. During a really boring seminar I was sketching a picture in my notebook, just a tree and clouds and a hawk and shadows, and thought "the falcon can not hear the falconer"

Things fall apart; the center cannot hold. Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere he ceremony of innocence is drowned

sounds like college...

And older sketch of a friend:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v349/Lastcatastrophe/SallySketch.jpg

I also painted a fish skeleton on wood and hung it over my bed, but I don't have a picture.

pictures!

http://www.boomspeed.com/looonatic/ducttape.jpg

:D

I got nothing.

And older sketch of a friend:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v349/Lastcatastrophe/SallySketch.jpg

I like the eyes. I also find something oddly poetic in "last catastrophe". It's both optimistic and pessimistic at once!

http://www.boomspeed.com/looonatic/ducttape.jpg

:D
That's one of the strangest things I have ever seen.

They look........ comfortable.

And about to die of an aneurysm.

http://www.boomspeed.com/looonatic/ducttape.jpg

:D

CLASSIC! Brings back high school memories. Trust me, I was on the sticky side of THAT semi-regular equation.

sounds like college...

10th grade, actually. When I well and truly embraced poetry.

10th grade, actually. When I well and truly embraced poetry.

and you started with Yeats? Precocious little scamp weren't you?

http://www.boomspeed.com/looonatic/ducttape.jpg

:D

Now THAT is awesome. And useful. I'm imagining what I could do with my naughty students.

"Okay, you've already lost recess and you're still hitting and yelling. So now we're gonna duct tape you to the ceiling. For your own good, of course."

Now THAT is awesome. And useful. I'm imagining what I could do with my naughty students.

Funny, I'm imagining what I could do with naughty...well...never mind. Though as the creator of this thread, I vote we try it out on Neesika.

and you started with Yeats? Precocious little scamp weren't you?

Well, I started with Donne in 1st, but yes--in 10th it was Yeats, cummings, Ferlinghetti, Hardy of all people, Plath and Sexton of course... Eliot... and Leonard Cohen.

CLASSIC! Brings back high school memories. Trust me, I was on the sticky side of THAT semi-regular equation.

I've never been attached to a ceiling, but I have had many close encounters with duct tape upon waking from a drunken stupor.

Well, I started with Donne in 1st, but yes--in 10th it was Yeats, cummings, Ferlinghetti, Hardy of all people, Plath and Sexton of course... Eliot... and Leonard Cohen.

Plath, I see where you get it from now :p. And how very respectful of e e to write it his way, heh

Well, I started with Donne in 1st, but yes--in 10th it was Yeats, cummings, Ferlinghetti, Hardy of all people, Plath and Sexton of course... Eliot... and Leonard Cohen.

Please don't say Rilke...please don't say Rilke...please don't say Rilke...please don't say Rilke...please don't say Rilke...

I've never been attached to a ceiling, but I have had many close encounters with duct tape upon waking from a drunken stupor.

Close Encounters? But of Which Kind (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3y1EXX4G7H4)?

Now THAT is awesome. And useful. I'm imagining what I could do with my naughty students.

"Okay, you've already lost recess and you're still hitting and yelling. So now we're gonna duct tape you to the ceiling. For your own good, of course."
http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y223/GermanNightmare/DuctTape_Motivator.jpg

Please don't say Rilke...please don't say Rilke...please don't say Rilke...please don't say Rilke...please don't say Rilke...

aw come on, who doesn't like a little Sonnets to Orpheus in the morning? I mean, that is if you like to start your mornings off depressed and suicidal..

and am I the only one who like Khalil Gibran?

Close Encounters? But of Which Kind (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3y1EXX4G7H4)?

I once woke up duct taped to another drunken guy naked and in a less than wholesome position. :p

http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y223/GermanNightmare/DuctTape_Motivator.jpg

Yay! :D

Close Encounters? But of Which Kind (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3y1EXX4G7H4)?

Yay! :D

Plath, I see where you get it from now :p. And how very respectful of e e to write it his way, heh

He's my favorite poet, I gotta show reverence. :P

Please don't say Rilke...please don't say Rilke...please don't say Rilke...please don't say Rilke...please don't say Rilke...

Put aside your fear! I hate Rilke. Which did nothing to deter people from giving me "Letters to a young poet" every christmas.

and am I the only one who like Khalil Gibran?

I adore him. The poets I listed were only the ones I started with.

Put aside your fear! I hate Rilke. Which did nothing to deter people from giving me "Letters to a young poet" every christmas.

Thank you! Oh Lord, thank you! I thought I was the only one. I use Rilke as a way to know if I should continue seeing a woman or run, screaming. Okay, hyperbole, but still.

Thus far I like almost all the writing here. And I searched, but it looks like somehow my posts about Neesika's paintings and Mauryvet's drawings got buried...

And my stuff as predicted got totally ignored; maybe I should be an oracle!

and am I the only one who like Khalil Gibran?

I love Khalil Gibran!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

okay great stuff people


here are a couple things I did many years ago - I know they suck but I will share them anyway

I made two crappy songs with a music mixer and free loops:

Click here to listen to The-Path (http://media.putfile.com/The-Path-35-56)

this next one I put into a crappy flash video with some images I manip'd in Photoshop.

Click for weirdness *Hopes link works* (http://us.f13.yahoofs.com/bc/444246f1mc6e03b2b/bc/Mail+Attachments/quicky_vid.swf?bfpW3GJBA6fx4fqD)

A lot of the photoshop stuff I did, can't be shared because it isn't PG-13


I wouldn't really call anything I have done worthwhile art but here is some stuff that I think I shared before in similar threads:


http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y19/m00nbeast/artwork%20-%20funnies/4DIMENSIONS.jpg

http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y19/m00nbeast/artwork%20-%20funnies/fuzzydreams.jpg

ahahahaha
http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y19/m00nbeast/artwork%20-%20funnies/earthdayanniversary.jpg

And older sketch of a friend:

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v349/Lastcatastrophe/SallySketch.jpg

I also painted a fish skeleton on wood and hung it over my bed, but I don't have a picture.
Wow, that is awesome!

Seriously, when are you going to be my gf? :P

http://www.boomspeed.com/looonatic/ducttape.jpg

:D

omg that's AWESOME!

And another; built out of toys:
http://jenfries.com/pages/figures_objects/figures_objects_02/swap_02.jpg

You know I've been following your stuff for years... this one might well be my favourite. :)

for months afterward i waited for him to leave--
to "cast me free", though i'd consented to be caught,
stepped willingly into the steel-sprung trap.
when he didn't, i stopped waiting for freedom
and just waited, quietly, all on its own.
for what? for nothing. for a cosmic explosion.
for divine intervention. for a critical malfunction
to hit this weak hungry heart and finish it off.
to be in love is too few words for that
complicated kind of process, the disengagement of
locks, the peeled back iron shell that covered such a
sick fluttering thing, my wounded-bird heart.
like a smoke detector that won't stop shrieking
i'd tried first to pry out its batteries; then
failing that, i wrapped it up in an old towel
and buried it somewhere deep, and declared the thing
forgotten.


That's awesome.

I'd buy a book of that.

There are some pretty talented people here, whether it be in photography, painting, singing, or forming life-sized replicas of William Shatner out of mashed potatos (I'm looking at you, LG).

I want you to show us what you've got! Spill it out over the page so we can comment, critique, enjoy.

And because I spent hours upon hours rerecording some songs, I am going to bloody post them as my first contribution. They are all in Cree.

Kisâkîtin (I love you) (http://media.putfile.com/Kisakitin-42)
Wiminihkweskiw (She'll end up a drinker) (http://media.putfile.com/Wiminihkweskiw-85)
Niteh (my heart) (http://media.putfile.com/Niteh-95)
Sakihtowin (http://media.putfile.com/Sakihtowin) (nevermind, it's getting cheesy, just listen to it).

Another of my favourite NS artists. :)

I was listening to Kisâkîtin the other day (through a link I found in one of the other threads), and my wife came drifting in from the other room and told me to buy that CD...

and am I the only one who like Khalil Gibran?

No. I'm plus-one-ing.

"and He was always in tune."

I would have you...

remember that you heard God
sing in the hollows of my cheeks

when nothing else made noise.

---

"sea salt and your skin."

Back when we were courting love like
wild horses, when we were drops of Tuesday
mornings in the cold and Sunday afternoons
on a bed of grass, we loved
like rockets through the trees and sang

our own songs. Tell me

how I set sail with no paddles to spare and no
sense of direction, and how I
found you anyway. It's the waves, you say,

the waves carried you to me. I didn't see you coming
but I knew you when you landed, knew you
by the stories in your eyes. I've been places
you will never go, they said, and I knew they were right -
but you weren't one of them.

And you say,
You, with all your ocean stories, will understand:

if I am a boat, you are the only shore,
and I am shipwrecked willingly.

---

"and we might drift away from this, but we might drift closer, too."

Lover, I want to melt snow with our body heat. Talk to me about
warm places and pockets where our fingers tangle around
loose coins and threads; tell me
about watching meteor showers in the fields and how
the grass was still warm from the day.

Lover, there are icebergs in our ocean, and I
don't know if our love's big enough for them. Tell me about
paddling to a different shore and skipping rocks there, and how
they travelled farther than you've ever seen and you
took one stone away with you as proof. Tell me
about lessons learnt and how
we're better people now, our little raft bound together
and still floating.

And how the world's
getting warmer and then there's us on the edge,
throwing pebbles like cupid's arrows and hoping
this time our aim is better.


More awesomeness.

Wow, that is awesome!

Seriously, when are you going to be my gf? :P

Heeee.

Send me a picture and I'll draw you. I haven't drawn in way too long.

That's awesome.

I'd buy a book of that.

Jesus! Thank you.

Heeee.

Send me a picture and I'll draw you. I haven't drawn in way too long.

damn, I really want to see that now.

god now I need to dredge up some of the old stuff from college, it's in a binder in a box somewhere, been years.

But I never did pictures or poetry, mostly short stories, nothing that would fit here, and I'm sure nobody wants to see, heh

But I never did pictures or poetry, mostly short stories, nothing that would fit here, and I'm sure nobody wants to see, heh

Liar. :tongue:

Liar. :tongue:

hah, ok maybe ONE person.

Jesus! Thank you.

Au contraire. Thank you!

:)

Another of my favourite NS artists. :)

I was listening to Kisâkîtin the other day (through a link I found in one of the other threads), and my wife came drifting in from the other room and told me to buy that CD...

When I finish the CD I'm working on for x-mas, I'll find a way to make it readily available to you online:)

When I finish the CD I'm working on for x-mas, I'll find a way to make it readily available to you online:)

Awesome!

(Seriously) :)

And you'll help me make my wife's day, too. Everyone's happy.

I pun:
My pen is in my hand; I take up a knife as well. The application of blade to point will make all things well, and I will soon forget her aniseed odor. "I hope we can still be friends," I write. Soon, the pen is dry, so I cut it again and dip it once more.
My quill is hard to master, but she demanded that I try to take it in hand. I can't quite manage it. After all, the mouth is a superior organ for the job. Still, I can comply with one final request, to cut it off and say goodbye.
Hint: It's about castration.
I also can write while drunk. See above.

I pun:
My pen is in my hand; I take up a knife as well. The application of blade to point will make all things well, and I will soon forget her aniseed odor. "I hope we can still be friends," I write. Soon, the pen is dry, so I cut it again and dip it once more.
My quill is hard to master, but she demanded that I try to take it in hand. I can't quite manage it. After all, the mouth is a superior organ for the job. Still, I can comply with one final request, to cut it off and say goodbye.
Hint: It's about castration.
I also can write while drunk. See above.

Excellent! And so...graphic.

There once was a man from Venus.
Whose head was shaped like a...

ehh, never mind.

Heeee.

Send me a picture and I'll draw you. I haven't drawn in way too long.

Ahhhhhh, that would truly rock! I'll get a pic this weekend for you:)

There once was a man from Venus.
Whose head was shaped like a...

ehh, never mind.

There once was a lawyer called Art
Whose lim'rick attempt wasn't smart,
But when he mocks posters
Who think men are toasters
Sometimes I laugh so hard I fart.




(Note: I don't think I've ever actually farted from laughing, but I'm willing to sacrifice my dignity and honesty for the sake of a punchline. :tongue: )

There once was a lawyer called Art
Whose lim'rick attempt wasn't smart,
But when he mocks posters
Who think men are toasters
Sometimes I laugh so hard I fart.




(Note: I don't think I've ever actually farted from laughing, but I'm willing to sacrifice my dignity and honesty for the sake of a punchline. :tongue: )

that's...simultaneously touching and disgusting.

There once was a lawyer called Art
Whose lim'rick attempt wasn't smart,
But when he mocks posters
Who think men are toasters
Sometimes I laugh so hard I fart.




(Note: I don't think I've ever actually farted from laughing, but I'm willing to sacrifice my dignity and honesty for the sake of a punchline. :tongue: )

I have, but that's another story. May I fix the meter of your last line?

"I laugh so hard, sometimes I fart." Read both aloud, you'll hear the fix.

(Note: I don't think I've ever actually farted from laughing, but I'm willing to sacrifice my dignity and honesty for the sake of a punchline. :tongue: )

If you can't enjoy a good fart joke, you're probably dead.

If you can't enjoy a good fart joke, you're probably dead.

Dennis Miller: "Kids will always think farts are funny. Why? Because farts are funny."

I have, but that's another story. May I fix the meter of your last line?

"I laugh so hard sometimes, I fart." Read both aloud, you'll hear the fix.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. That's what happens when I make up limericks off the top of my head without bothering to edit them. :p

that's...simultaneously touching and disgusting.

Yay, I succeeded! :tongue:

Dennis Miller: "Kids will always think farts are funny. Why? Because farts are funny."

I agree!

I agree!

pft, neanderthal.

Holy crap, you're like, completely talented! :eek2: :D

Seriously, you have an amazing voice and the songs are lovely.

For my own bragging -- all of you, get your lazy asses over to the beautiful and scenic industrial wasteland of East Somerville, Massachusetts, for the 20-some-odd annual Brickbottom Artists Association Open Studios event.

http://brickbottomartists.com/open_studios_info
http://www.brickbottomartists.com/

And another; built out of toys:
http://jenfries.com/pages/figures_objects/figures_objects_02/swap_02.jpg
ohh...I love this one.

I'll see what I can do to get out there...but really? Slummerville? You're going to make me leave my shithole in LA for Slummerville?

Though, I did see something about free booze...this could work...



As for my stuff, I don't have anything recent. Actually, the only thing I'm confident in posting is something from almost 5 years ago, which I would have to host somewhere else.

You mean the Comic Jam and 10th Anniversary of Reunification drawings weren't yours?No, if you follow the image source of the gal with the freckles and sword, you'll end up in an album full of other drawings, most of which aren't mine. It's from a contest where people guessed who drew what and you had to try and mask your style to dupe others into guessing wrong.

Anyway, finished the pencils:

http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a205/ulteriormotives/Banshee.png

Give me MOAR!

Give me MOAR!
http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a205/ulteriormotives/BrawlTextless.png

http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a205/ulteriormotives/Enemies.png

http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a205/ulteriormotives/BrawlTextless.png

http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a205/ulteriormotives/Enemies.png

Holy shit you're good!

I really like the first one! Second one is great too, but the detail in the first is divine!

...:(...

Ha! That's seriously cute. :)

yay for getting it before Smunk deleted! HAH!

Ha! That's seriously cute. :)

It's not art though, it's more craft. I learned it from someone else. It's not an original, it's a copy. I fail.

I think it's pretty sweet

i forget if i ever showed the pics from this set here before:

http://photos-436.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v315/210/92/40308436/n40308436_32074735_9318.jpg http://photos-436.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v315/210/92/40308436/n40308436_32074731_8359.jpg

It's not art though, it's more craft. I learned it from someone else. It's not an original, it's a copy. I fail.

Art and craft don't have to be exclusive, do they? And it is an 'Art etc' thread.

I couldn't do it, copying or otherwise.

http://fc03.deviantart.com/fs35/i/2008/298/0/e/Dreaming_by_RuffyHatesSally.jpg

Hai.

i forget if i ever showed the pics from this set here before:

http://photos-436.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v315/210/92/40308436/n40308436_32074735_9318.jpg http://photos-436.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v315/210/92/40308436/n40308436_32074731_8359.jpg

This must be Grant Park after the Obama celebration left. It looks very different in the day time.

This must be Grant Park after the Obama celebration left. It looks very different in the day time.

i preferred the original buckingham fountain over that mountain stream facade, myself

Btw boys, cock shots are art.

*nods*

http://fc94.deviantart.com/fs38/i/2008/318/f/2/Spice_by_RuffyHatesSally.jpg

I have a rash.

http://img261.imageshack.us/img261/4104/lilywongo8.jpg

Btw boys, cock shots are art.

*nods*

http://juliaswartz.com/images/products/Roster_Hen_watercolor_painting_L.jpg
?

http://img47.imageshack.us/img47/1430/lantjm3.jpg

two can play at this plant close-up game

oh yeah, photos taken...

I'm certainly no Free Soviets or Ruffalino

These are from this summers camping trip:

http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y19/m00nbeast/camping%20trip%2008/800DSCI0029.jpg

http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y19/m00nbeast/camping%20trip%2008/800DSCI0046.jpg

http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y19/m00nbeast/camping%20trip%2008/800DSCI0049.jpg

...

those cocks are ok, but hardly glorious

oh yeah, photos taken...

I'm certainly no Free Soviets or Ruffalino

These are from this summers camping trip:

http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y19/m00nbeast/camping%20trip%2008/800DSCI0029.jpg

http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y19/m00nbeast/camping%20trip%2008/800DSCI0046.jpg

http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y19/m00nbeast/camping%20trip%2008/800DSCI0049.jpg

Ooh, I really like the first one. :)

http://img47.imageshack.us/img47/1430/lantjm3.jpg

two can play at this plant close-up game

Ohh, it's on.

http://fc53.deviantart.com/fs39/i/2008/318/c/c/greeny_by_RuffyHatesSally.jpg

Ooh, I really like the first one. :)

*nodnodnod*

http://juliaswartz.com/images/products/Roster_Hen_watercolor_painting_L.jpg
?

*gives dirty look*

those cocks are ok, but hardly gloriousMaybe not glorious, but the little guy gets the job done.

*gives dirty look*
Now spit on me and call me a whore.

Sin: I liek your swirl.

And I have stuff for you. Is possibly art, depending on how bad your taste is. Should get it by next Friday.

Ohh, it's on.

http://img510.imageshack.us/img510/5475/tetonflower5ew.png

http://img47.imageshack.us/img47/1430/lantjm3.jpg

two can play at this plant close-up game

So can three.

Yay! A threesome!

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1280-Copy.jpg

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1263-Copy.jpg

Ohh, it's on.

http://fc53.deviantart.com/fs39/i/2008/318/c/c/greeny_by_RuffyHatesSally.jpg

http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v80/175/54/698315177/n698315177_138715_9239.jpg

those cocks are ok, but hardly glorious

Show him how it's done!

Now spit on me and call me a whore.

omg.

That's so hawt. And wrong.

Bad! Bad Sarkhaan!

Sin: I liek your swirl.

And I have stuff for you. Is possibly art, depending on how bad your taste is. Should get it by next Friday.

I un-unlove you!

http://img154.imageshack.us/img154/7381/tundraor3.jpg

this is actually very close-upped. tundra plants are tiny.

http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c389/Smunkee/nikonzoo/DSC_0032.jpg
http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c389/Smunkee/nikonzoo/DSC_0293.jpg

http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c389/Smunkee/nikonzoo/DSC_0293.jpg

kitty!

http://fc69.deviantart.com/fs38/i/2008/318/1/f/The_Cherries_by_RuffyHatesSally.jpg

kitty!

He was quite annoyed with me. Every time my SLR would make the shutter noise he would look right at me like he wanted to eat me.

omg.

That's so hawt. And wrong.

Bad! Bad Sarkhaan!
muahahahha
kitty!

Maow?


http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v306/zbronto/sunset-1.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v306/zbronto/PC250004.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v306/zbronto/P2160276.jpg
JESUS LOL!

and yes, I'll go resize them.

Since this has apparently become the Plant Close Up thread, someone should poke me when I get back from my travels next week and I'll scan in the rather nice one I have sitting in my portfolio. :tongue:

I have some old pictures I drew online. There are new ones but I haven't uploaded them.

http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v55/14/92/72602851/n72602851_31517920_9154.jpg

http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v55/14/92/72602851/n72602851_31517917_6304.jpg
(this one still isn't done...)

http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v64/14/92/72602851/n72602851_32385458_7079.jpg

http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v55/14/92/72602851/n72602851_31517911_4845.jpg

http://photos-f.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v55/14/92/72602851/n72602851_31517957_2542.jpg
^Drawn in crayon.


I think I'm better at drawing now. Maybe not much, but a bit at least.

Oooh, Dakini! I love the crayon/coloured pencil use! For some reason, I simply adore the first two...they're just really cute!

Kids books! You must!

Oooh, Dakini! I love the crayon/coloured pencil use! For some reason, I simply adore the first two...they're just really cute!

Kids books! You must!
Haha, yeah, when I drew the dinosaurs I was like "man, I should start writing children's books or drawing up greeting cards".

I doubt I'm good enough to do that sort of thing for real though, right now I'm sort of trying to work on general sketching (I figure if I can do realism then I'll get better at imaginary things) and I'll probably try doing more colour eventually.

http://img180.imageshack.us/img180/8801/treeduoss2.jpg

http://img180.imageshack.us/img180/8801/treeduoss2.jpg

Ooh, prettypretty.

Here's a poem I wrote:

A ruined city, under the sun
Mercenaries fighting against each other
Fighters trail the sky, ready to destroy any hostiles
As the infantry walk through, an injured enemy soldier rises up and prepares to shoot.
But loses the chance, when he is shot by an officer.
For them, it's just another day at work.

Here's a poem I wrote:

A ruined city, under the sun
Mercenaries fighting against each other
Fighters trail the sky, ready to destroy any hostiles
As the infantry walk through, an injured enemy soldier rises up and prepares to shoot.
But loses the chance, when he is shot by an officer.
For them, it's just another day at work.

Hmm.. uhmm... that's actually pretty good when i think on it.

So can three.

Yay! A threesome!

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1280-Copy.jpg

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v711/sinuhue/DSCN1263-Copy.jpg

a foursome!

http://img234.imageshack.us/img234/9784/81im7.jpg

http://www.hljphotography.co.uk/images/old%20galleries/misc%20album/images/Summer%20pictures%20280706%20035.jpg


got myself a new studio flash kit this last week & used it at a conference job. looking forward to playing around with it! :) also just looking forward to getting creative with photography again... looking at my website, its been almost a year since i put up anything new, and that's way too long :(

http://www.hljphotography.co.uk/images/Rhinefield%20141007/album/images/_MG_3409a.jpg

http://img180.imageshack.us/img180/8801/treeduoss2.jpg

ooh, very moody, i like

Holy shit you're good!

I really like the first one! Second one is great too, but the detail in the first is divine!I'm not entirely pleased with how some of the faces turned out in that one. But it's from a couple months ago, and I've progressed since then.

Incidentally, the girl from this post (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=14202707&postcount=122) is the same one in the center of the bar fight and the same person that's holding the sword in the one with the werewolf.

Hmm.. uhmm... that's actually pretty good when i think on it.

I just wrote it on the spot real fast. And, it's my first poem.

Um... I have black metal... I guess

Hallowed Earth (http://www.myspace.com/hallowedearthband)

The recordings are extremely bad quality, because, well, studios are really expensive, and we have like no money. There are no drums on any of these recordings except "Cantus Amoris" which is probably spelled wrong and is closest to folk, not black metal. All other attempts to record drums have been catastrophic failures.

So far, 3161/1T33N is our best attempt at getting decent sound quality. Light of Tragedy is good, too, for the music. I play bass and do backing vocals. We're not one of those grim tr00 kvlt bands that tries to get shitty sound quality, it just happens because we're not
experienced at recording and don't have many resources.

The guitarist and myself also play in an acoustic project that takes influence from various sources.
Bards of Fangorn (http://www.myspace.com/bardsoffangorn)

And yeah, we did name it Bards of Fangorn. Because we're nerds.

Ooh, I really like the first one. :)

*nodnodnod*

Thank you, kind sirs.