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Opening music commissions!
I do NOT write original pieces
Solo: 5$
+1$ for every additional instrument
+1$ for every additional instrument part (i.e., Trombone 1, Trombone 2)
+0.50$ for every 5 measures above 50
Short ensemble arrangement (About 32 Measures): 10$
Medium ensemble arrangement (About 75 Measures): 20$
Long ensemble arrangement (>100 Measures): 35$
We can discuss band sizes and what that means for the length and price
THERE IS A CHANCE THAT I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO ARRANGE THE PIECE YOU HAVE CHOSEN
(Please reblog this if you can!)
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me an @violetcoloredskies when i forced her into the good omens fandom
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an unmatched feeling actually
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(alto sax and drumset got cut off)
Crossing The Line (Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure)
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the score, as promised
Hello!!! You may not know, but I am an active music enjoyer. I play flute and piccolo, and can play some one-handed songs on the piano. I really enjoy stealing arranging music for my jazz band to play, and this is my most recent project! (I'll reblog with the pdf linked in a minute)
Feel FREE to use my music for your own use, and if anyone ends up performing it, I'd love to hear it!
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Hello!!! You may not know, but I am an active music enjoyer. I play flute and piccolo, and can play some one-handed songs on the piano. I really enjoy stealing arranging music for my jazz band to play, and this is my most recent project! (I'll reblog with the pdf linked in a minute)
Feel FREE to use my music for your own use, and if anyone ends up performing it, I'd love to hear it!
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minitaur
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Anthony Janthony Crowley/David Tennant Part 4
Submit a David Tennant in my ask box for me to draw.
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Realized that I hadn’t put any of my dragon art on here, which is weird because they’re the main thing I draw. Most of these are pretty old, since I haven’t drawn seriously for a long time.
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Jack-O-Lantern
Long nimble fingers navigate a knife with ease.
They are practiced and precise.
Triangles are carved delicately out of smooth flesh,
And a grin weaves its way across a lower portion.
He is careful not to let his nails,
Long and sharp,
Scratch the surface
Because that would ruin it.
This is art,
And there can be no mistakes.
He breaks the shell on top
And removes the meat.
It is pink and delicate.
He will save it for later.
A long strand of hair,
So unclean and old,
Old enough that it reminds him of shedded snakeskin,
Falls from his balding scalp
And into the flesh.
He wails, because this perfect specimen is ruined.
He discards the corpse
Into a pile of other ruined works
And gets up,
Greying skin pulled tight like leather across his long, thin, limbs.
His veins are a stark blue and shine like lights under his epidermis.
Lights like the candles that he places inside Jack-O-Lantern skulls.
He is struck with an idea,
And oh, what a wonderful idea it is!
He will make a perfect Jack-O-Lantern-
One that cannot be ruined!
He will carve it,
And place candles,
And it will be displayed for all to see!
He takes a knife,
Long and sharp,
Not even a knife it all,
Because it is his own hands.
He reaches up, and does he really need to see to be an artist?
Triangle eyes, oh so glorious.
A shame he won’t be able to see the rest of his masterpieces.
He smiles so wide that for a moment he thinks
He may not even need to carve himself a new smile.
That thought is dismissed quickly, because of course he does.
This is art.
It must be perfect.
He slices and what a lovely smile he has!
He cannot see it,
But he can feel it,
And it is wonderful.
He lights a candle,
Burning one finger just to be sure that it is lit,
And places the flame inside of his mouth.
He stands,
And walks over all of his ruined projects
And exits his home.
He sits on his front lawn,
And he can hear children ringing doorbells and shouting for treats.
This is a treat, to be sure.
His favorite works sit around him, he knows,
Many an adult and child,
All with beautiful empty heads,
Open triangle eyes,
And wide simple grins.
He is so,
So
Proud of what he’s made.
Even as the flame in his mouth begins to tickle and burn,
He does not care for the damage done to his body.
Because he is art,
And that is all that matters.
Children scream,
And he smiles wider.
They are taken with delight
At the sight
Of his art.
Or, perhaps, they are screaming
Because their parents lay in pieces around his feet.
No matter.
This is art.
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Another continuation of the David Tennant/Anthony Janthony Crowley study
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Forget-Me-Not
Forget-me-not,
I told you
As I gave you blue flowers.
You wouldn’t,
You promised,
As you smiled and slipped away.
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Heart•bro•ken
Adjective.
(Of a person)
Suffering from overwhelming distress;
Very upset.
According to the Oxford dictionary.
Synonyms:
Devastated
Suffering
Grieving
Crushed
Shattered
Miserable
Sorrowful
Dejected
Despondent
Anguished
Crestfallen
Dolorous
According to the Oxford dictionary.
But to others,
Or to myself,
We might define it as
Death
From the inside.
An autopsy,
Of our slow-beating hearts.
The word is literal-
It feels as if your chest
Has been burned alive
And crumpled
And destroyed
And cracked and broken
Like fine pieces of glass.
It is when
Your last living connection to someone you loved
Disintegrates into hate
And when your most loved person
Tells you that you are wicked.
It is when you fight against the reins of death
To see someone again,
But they have already left you behind.
Being heartbroken
Is a heart attack,
A violent battle waged in your psyche
Between you, the losing side,
And your once-loves, the victors.
It comes from broken,
(Of a situation) 
Not having gone the way intended,
(Of a bone, body part)
Fractured, having the bone in pieces,
(Of a person)
Completely defeated.
It comes from hand,
(Archaic)
Deed, act, hence, manner of performance
(Firearms)
The small part of a gunstock near the lock,
Which is grasped by the hand when taking aim.
Heartbroken
Is a word
That everyone
Hopes to never feel.
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Submit a David Tennant
To add to my Anthony Janthony Crowley study, I've opened my asks where you can submit any picture of Crowley that you would like. Please submit.
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Metaphors are Too Good For Me
I need to learn to stop putting myself into a metaphor
Because metaphors are too good for me.
I’m nothing but a small consciousness
Belonging to a broken human.
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A continuation of the David Tennant/Anthony Janthony Crowley study
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How Do I Love a Villain
You say that you don’t want to be the villain
And yet you burn what makes me happy.
How am I meant to love you?
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