[images ID: three images of a comic titled "one must imagine sisyphus happy" by druid-for-hire. it is a visual narrative beginning with someone with wrist pain (depicted by bright orange nerves) working at a drafting table. the reader is shown the same wrist as the person uses it for many everyday tasks such as carrying a grocery basket, pushing elevator buttons, typing, and doing dishes, until the pain dissolves all the panels into chaos. the person then performs several physical therapy exercises until the pain subsides. they sit back down at a desk with their laptop, sigh, and begin typing. a small spark of pain reappears. end id]
a fun little piece i made during the semester and submitted into our school comic anthology! (which you can buy at the Static Fish table at MoCCAFest in NYC ;] ). it's about artists and injury
This might seem like an "old man yells at cloud" situation, but it's just wild growing up and being told how dangerous distracted driving is - how, at highway speeds, you can traverse the length of a football field (100 yards, 91 meters) in a matter of seconds - how one split second sending a text while driving could result in a potential fatal crash, and then getting on the road as a driver and being surrounded by billboards. Their entire purpose is to catch one's attention, so they're lining major roads, which tend to be highways. How is it that you're told how important it is to never be distracted while driving, but still being advertised to?
At best, this type of advertising is an eyesore to pedestrians and motorists and a general waste of electricity to light it, and at worst, it is an active danger considering they are there to advertise and therefore, must catch people's attention.
I'm not even against advertising in theory, but this particular mode bothers me so much and I hate how pervasive it is - especially in large cities or highways.
Knowing people are making six figures by copying and pasting Wikipedia articles, stealing information and tracing art, I now feel more proud of every single piece of work I create and engagement I receive because I do not resort to theft for my work!
he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.
except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?
at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.
except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.
about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.
he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.
I’d like to imagine Silver and Crowley having an Aurora and Maleficent-Diaval dynamic- one that is complicated yet full of care simultaneously 🌸💖
This was all inspired by Silver’s Alchemy Special Lesson line where he says “I feel better when the Headmage is here” 😭😭😭😭 that’s all it took BAHXJSJ!!! But why? Why does Silver feel better when the Headmage is there, when everyone else feel tense, anxious, annoyed, or even scared? 👀 This was a question I sought to answer for myself- as in what if Crowley was his “fairy godfather,” like the way Maleficent was to Aurora in the live action film.
I feel like some stuff is up to interpretation- as this is from (mostly) Silver’s POV. But I hope the general concept of this wasn’t too confusing to follow (*゚▽゚*) I wanted to try having the story follow Silver’s POV, age, and thoughts through the style of drawings- except for certain pages that’s meant to be drawn from Crowley’s POV (о´∀`о) I hope it wasn’t too disorienting!
There were many, many others scenes of them I wanted to draw but couldn’t fit -v- so I suppose I have inspiration for mini comics/sketches in the future to elaborate further on them! Thank you for reading 🌸💖🐦⬛
"Yeah he's dressed like a fucking Bat. So what? Some guy in the Narrows just got melted into acid by a ray gun on Tuesday. And you know who has to show up and deal with that?" hacking cough, another long drag "Last night I drank eleven of those fancy little espresso shots from that new cart over on 5th and didn't feel a thing. Doctor told me it's bad for my heart. You know what's bad for my heart? Crazy psychos with ray guns melting people into acid. Back in my day, people fell into acid, sure. But now they've got acid guns too?" more coughing, some chest pounding "Bat says he wants to go deal with that, I say more power to him. Matter of fact, he can walk right into my house and kiss my wife if it means I don't gotta write more paperwork about people getting melted into acid. You know how hard it is to identify people when they're goo? It all just looks like puked up spaghetti in those bags. And the acid keeps eatin' at the bags when they're in the cooler so they break open, and boom, that's another form. I filled out three forms about that this week, believe it or not. So yeah, the Bat's doing me a favor, way I see it." lighting another cigarette "Hey, buddy. You want one of these?"
Bruce Wayne, staring at the only other non-corrupt officer in the GCPD he was surreptitiously vetting after his last meetup with Gordon fell through: "Um. No thanks."
it is absolutely fine to be disappointed by his absence at cannes. i am too. but he does not have to be there.
for whatever reason he’s pulling away from the attention. the esquire article talked about how guarded he is and his socials have really slowed down. maybe he’s unprepared or overwhelmed by all the tlou hype. i mean his follower count went up by the tens of thousands the day after the premiere. that’s insane.
but some of you have lost the plot. the ones wearing d*ddy’s little girl shirts in fucking public and yelling d*ddy at him at events and trying to convince everyone whether he’s queer or not and complaining there isn’t an explicit scene of him fucking in the strange way of life. it’s not a gay porn made for your fetish. ‘oh but narcos!!’ that’s called characterization. read literally any article from almodovar and understand why sex isn’t the point.
interacting with paparazzi content and making cute little edits - jfc. that’s creating demand and supply and paparazzi know no fucking boundaries. man’s got anxiety and no doubt the paps and fans watching his every move are probably making that worse.
let him make movies and rotate through his four shirts in peace. pedro pascal doesn’t owe anyone shit.