"Infuse your life with action. Don't wait for it to happen. Make it happen. Make your own future. Make your own hope. Make your own love. And whatever your beliefs, honor your creator, not by passively waiting for grace to come down from upon high, but by doing what you can to make grace happen... yourself, right now, right down here on Earth."
~Bradley Whitford
37 notes
·
View notes
I have new open stock handmade watercolors in my shop. $5.75 plus shipping per half pan.
- Lightfast
- Non-toxic
- Granulating
Unfortunately, I can only offer shipping to North America at this time.
3 notes
·
View notes
Here's some black kyanite pigment! Turned out even better than I'd hoped
2 notes
·
View notes
Wolf Spirit jewellery set. This set includes a necklace and a clip in hair ornament. The inspiration came from wolves of the northern North America and Eurasia and their forest habitats. The wolf face in the centre was the last one of its kind at the bead shop, which makes it extra special and a fitting symbol of a threatened species. The large labradorite chips recall a wolf’s claws and fangs.
Techniques and materials: glass seed beads, teardrop fringe beads, snowflake obsidian, camouflage stone, freshwater pearls in brown and silver dyed colour, crystal beads, labradorite chips, antique finish silver findings
6 notes
·
View notes
Nombre: "Su tierna mirada"
Técnica: Pasteles terrosos sobre papel
Otra de las ilustraciones hechas por humanos y *noIA
#aguatemalaart
#sepia
#traditionalart
#noia
#pastelcolors
0 notes
In the tender glow of the vanishing sun, she sat, a solitary figure against the vast canvas of the enfolding mountains. Her skin, a smooth tapestry of warm, honeyed bronze, glowed softly as though she harbored her own share of the sunset within her. Poised in a state of serene repose, she seemed as much a part of the landscape as the ancient rocks she rested upon and the timeless hills that cradled the horizon.
The gentle breeze, a whispering confidant of the highlands, played lightly with errant wisps of her hair, styled in an unassuming bun atop her head—a crown of simplicity. Her eyes, closed in contemplative meditation, held the stories of rivers that flowed silently within, hiding depths untold beneath a tranquil surface.
Her attire, unadorned and as free-flowing as the air that enveloped her, hung on her limbs like sails on a vessel destined for uncharted waters. On her neck, a delicate chain, like a stream of molten gold, caught the dying light, signaling the quiet elegance of her spirit. The world around her, with its cacophony of colors—deep greens, fading blues, and whispers of mist—seemed to pause, to hold its breath, to defer to the peace she so effortlessly commanded.
In this moment, the woman was not just a part of the Earth; she was an ambassador to the sublime, a silent testament to the moment when the human soul dances in perfect harmony with the universe's grand, quiet song.
1 note
·
View note