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cherrysmokesaconha · 9 months

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Hello there silly followers! (And also anons)

My name is CHERRY! Welcome to my Tumblr account!

I am a 16 yrs old aromantic autistic gal who likes to draw and share my stuff! I used to have another Tumblr account but now is deactivated for personal reasons. (My ass is also brazilian btw lol)

I used to post on Twitter but I deactivated my account on there because of recent X stuff (I h8 u Melon Husky). So now I am posting here. :P

My ass account is also MULTIFANDOM! I post about a lot of fandoms!

Those are the fandoms I'm in!

• Bugbo (mainly about my Bugjoe kid, Veneloppe. Their AU is unnamed);

• Eddsworld (mostly OCs and AUs. My AUs are: Cassworld, Lost Hope, Dream AU and also The Dumped Child);

• Dave and Bambi (I will maybe post ship art like DxB and/or DxM but it's mostly about Eleonor and Elliot! They're a Dave x Muko kid and a Dave x Bambi kid / My main AU is Forgotten Failures AU. More info soon);

• Friday Night Funkin' in General (My AU is called Saturday Night Singin');

• The Henry Stickmin Collection (My Main AU is Experiencing the Next Generation, who is mostly a fanchild/Next Gen AU);

• ASDFMovie (I call this AU "asdf fankids", it's about three fankids called David/Heart Son, Danídia/Bomb Daughter & Stephan/Steph).

There's maybe more but I can't remember for now. I will update this if I need to add something.

I will be also adding TAGS in my posts!

My tags are:

- #cherry talks - for rants, answering asks, and stuff

- #cassworld, #lost hope au, #dream au & #the dumped child au - Tags for my EW AUs

- #forgotten failures au, #eleonor's educational playtime - Tags for my DnB AUs and stuff

- #experiencing the next generation - For my Henry Stickmin Next Gen AU

- #asdf fankids - For David/Heart Son, Danídia/Bomb Daughter & Steph/Stephan, my ASDFMovie fankids

- #cherryverse - for crossovers between my AUs or just my AUs in general.

- #cherries art stuff - for arts in general!

DON'T FUCKING INTERACT WITH ME:

• Proshippers/Comshippers (I will block u!!!);

• You trash on harmless shipping;

• MAPs/Pedophiles;

• Dreamsexuals, Plantsexuals or any of those fucked up sexualities;

• You ship Henry x Ellie or Henry x Dr. Vinsch. (depends of your actions!! If you ship them but respects the ones who likes differents ships or even is a multishipper, then you're fine!);

• TomEdd/Tom x Edd Shippers;

• You think the DnB devs are uncomfortable with shipping (Moldy and Rapparep created Dave and Bambi and are okay with it, C O P E.);

• You call 2004 Tord "Teen Tord" (don't assume things about him, the CHARACTER literally have vague age, separate the character to the real person PLEASE???);

• You're an asshole in general.

Maybe I will add more if I feel like lol

---

REFS OF MY OCS/FANCHILDREN! ↓

• Ricky / Danídia/Bomb Daughter & David/Heart Son / Gradient Veneloppe / Steph/Stephan (more soon!)

ENJOY YOUR STAY! 🌸

#cherry talks #cassworld #lost hope au #dream au #the dumped child au #cherries art stuff #forgotten failures au #eleonors educational playtime #asdf fankids #cherryverse #pinned

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lastchancevillagegreen · 2 months

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Thursday, 7 March 2024:

The Unsustainable Library Library Project Part 7:

Five Ways of Disappearing Kendra Smith (4 AD) (released in 1995)

One of the strangest, most disappointing collections we received Wednesday in donations into the sorting room at the library involved a book of 20 books and 300 CDs. They all came from the same person because they all smelled the same. The 20 books were of colossal disappointment to me because I'm in charge of "Special Books." Those are books that might carry some value. I price them based on generalities of other rare book dealers' prices for the titles. I tend to price mine lower because my goal is to sell things and give people the bargains they hope to find in a library sales room. The books were all first edition printings of Stephen King hardbacks with perfect dust covers. I opened the box and saw Carrie, Salem's Lot, The Shining, Christine, Firestarter, Cujo, etc. Immediately I was let down because the instant you opened the box, you smelled the mold. Seeing the titles, which command high prices, I envisioned putting them on my Special Book shelves for $30 a pop (a steal) but when I opened up the books, the mold was thick inside. The top inch of each page was covered in dark flecks and the pages were all spotted. These books wouldn't sell for 50 cents, they were ruined. I hated to make the call that these were worthless, but these were worthless. I don't sell garbage.

The CDs were in plastic bags that smelled identical to the Stephen King books. I have serious allergies that have been rocked by this job and I didn't much want to go through these CDs. They weren't moldy like the books, these were actually in fine shape. Some, however, had jewel cases that looked as if the owner painted them in chili and let it dry. Those went into the trash. Half of them didn't even have CDs inside, they were just empty. Booklets and artwork were all present, just no CDs. Another 70 were CD-Rs of great artists (lots of Pixies) but the library doesn't sell CD-Rs, especially not coming from Johnny Mold. (There is a caveat to this statement: I'll sell DVD-Rs of DVDs pressed by Warner Brothers and Universal which was commonplace in the early Aughts, but I include a statement on the cover of the DVD indicating this is a DVD-R and if it doesn't work, bring it back in and I'll refund your money.)

The CDs were an odd assortment. Lots of classical music, lots of Broadway Soundtracks and Motion Picture Soundtracks and lots of rock CDs that we don't normally get in: Sinead O'Connor, Kristin Hersh, Belly, virtually none of the hits of the 90s (although Jewel's debut cropped up which seems to be a dime-a-dozen in people's CD collections). The funniest thing in the entire collection was a lone country CD of Mindy McCready's 1996 debut, Ten Thousand Angels.

When this album showed up, I had no idea what it was. I flipped it over and immediately recognized the artwork and layout as being a 4 AD release. I check labels on artists I don't know and generally that tells me all I need to know. I hadn't even noticed the 4 AD logo because the font of the title, the artist's name being housed in individual blocks for each letter, the layout of the tracklist screamed 4 AD. That's all I needed to know that it was coming home with me. But I did look up Smith on discogs on my phone and discovered she was in the Dream Academy. Yes, this was coming home. I've plenty of 4 AD releases and when does one encounter a bad album from that label?

Above you see the cover of the album followed by a shot of the back which revealed this was 4 AD (even without seeing their logo). Below is the jewel case opened up.

The next photo is of the booklet opened to a random page, again, revealing the classic style of 4 AD's art style.

A close up of the CD ends the entry.

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quinintheclouds · 4 years

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The Sides in Order of How Tidy Their Rooms Are, From Cleanest to Messiest:

(I have thought this through so hear me out!)

1. Roman 2. Janus 3. Virgil 4. Patton 5. Logan 6. Remus

To Elaborate:

1. Roman’s room’s cleanliness occasionally dips below Janus’ when he’s immersed in a project, but then he gets a burst of energy and makes sure it’s spotless. Or he just uses his imagination magic to make everything neat and presentable. He did say he wants Thomas to keep his clothes clean and folded in the right drawers. He cares a lot about appearances, and is very idealistic. Vaulted ceilings, art in golden frames, velvet curtains, an ornate canopy bed... Only the absolute best for a Prince!

2. Janus is all about seeing things for exactly what they are. He wants clarity. Everything has a place. But his judgment can be clouded or his intentions murky. Not to mention that he's so precise in his edginess I expect he'd hold his room to the same standard as his outfits and cool demeanor. Even if he's a mess, deceit can keep things looking perfect on the surface. Unfortunately, every time Remus visits he tracks in mud, even though there shouldn’t be any mud. They’re inside, where did--?

3. If we hadn’t already seen Virgil and Patton’s rooms, I may have considered switching them here, but I think I’d have stuck with this order. Virgil’s spiderwebs are an aesthetic choice and as such do not count as mess. It's not the most put-together of rooms, but it's lived-in and has breathing room. It's designed to make him feel cozy, so it's not overwhelmingly crowded with things. And Janus did catch Virgil doing some housekeeping and dusting.

4. Patton’s room, on the other hand, is cluttered to all heck, but his things themselves are at least clean. His room is messy, but not dirty. However, he has no idea where anything is. When something's added to one of the piles, it's lost immediately, so Patton randomly finds things he'd forgotten about all the time. He wants to keep the memories in good condition, though, plus he doesn’t like icky stuff. Though I suppose it's possible both Pat and Virgil's rooms collect some dust after a while. Patton just doesn't actually dust often. (Twist: the floaty specks in the air in Patton's room was actually just a LOT of dust fdjhsgjk)

5. This is why Logan doesn’t want anyone in his room (well, one reason). There are too many books to fit on the bookshelves, open jars of Crofter’s, papers strewn about covered in coffee stains and scrawled-on useful facts, calendars too ambitious to read, hyperbolically millions of tabs open with podcasts and research, journals documenting Thomas’ life, post-it notes everywhere losing their stickiness and falling to the floor, chemistry experiments, glow-in-the-dark star stickers, unsolved puzzles, binders of organizational tips to try and help manage Thomas’ schedule (none of which have worked yet), etc. The only thing that’s neat is his closet: ironed shirts, pants, and ties, and a garment bag containing the unicorn onesie. He keeps everything sanitized, doesn't let anyone in, and knows exactly where everything is. Therefore, this system doesn't significantly inhibit productivity, so cleaning isn't first priority. He doesn’t WANT his room to be in such disarray, but he’s Character!Thomas’ logic and structure, and we all know that’s a mess, so.. it stands to reason that Logan isn't exactly thriving. He’s too busy trying to establish order and efficiency in Thomas’ life to keep up with his own problems (not realizing that since he’s a part of Thomas... his problems ARE ALSO Thomas’ problems).

6. As for Remus... you’ll never step into the same room twice. One day it’s flooded with some mystery substance and Remus is in a canoe trying to paddle with a slotted spoon, the next day it’s filled with radioactive bees, and the next it just looks like a junkyard where sex toys go to die. The walls are covered with burns and holes from blowing things up. Not even Remus can find what he's looking for in his own room, but he doesn't mind. Messy, dirty, moldy. Unoraganized chaos. The natural habitat of our local rat man. Filthy filthy.

_____________

Okay, yes -- this is mostly headcanon. I just thought it'd be fun :P If you agree/disagree I'm intrigued to hear your take!

#sanders sides headcanon #tss headcanons #sanders sides room theories #the sides' rooms from cleanest to messiest #tss analysis #please appreciate this it took me so long to get all the formatting and colors right #thoughts?#quinpost

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abutterflyscribbles · 5 years

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@magic-and-moonlit-wings @tough-girl9 a prologue of sorts

“Slimy little weasel!”

“What was that, son?”

Bog fumbled with the diary he had been engrossed in. He had not noticed his mother returning from lunch. Restraining himself from shoving the book hastily out of sight, Bog placed the diary back on its shelf and removed the gloves he had been wearing to handle it.

“Nothing, mom!” Bog called back.

He flipped open a random catalog to make it look like he had been working. Just in time, too. His mother stuck her head around the corner, all frizzy red hair and cheerful grin. “Been back here all day? You should come out front and help the customers I brought with me. I met them at the cafe. Such lovely young ladies--”

Bog slammed a stack of cheap paperbacks on the counter, adding onto the wall of books he had been building around himself all days. “You know better than I do where we keep the cheap, sleazy romance novels.”

“Romance never hurt anybody, there's no reason to act like it bit you!”

She flounced off to the front of the shop.

Bog shuffled the stacks of books around a little, trying to get himself to start a new task. He didn't want to. He wanted to take the diary back out and read what happened next. The diary's author, an unknown woman from a hundred or so years ago, had just recorded the incident of her fiancé's betrayal. Bog had never wanted to sock anyone so much before.

He hadn't meant to do more than skim a few pages of the diary to try and get a grasp of its age, condition, and possible value. Opening it to a random page he found an ashamed little entry about the writer leaning to fence on the sly. That had intrigued him enough to start reading from the beginning and work his way through the typical girly drivel so common in these sort of things.

The diary had been one in a series, it seemed, and none of the other volumes had been collected with this one. It had been purchased in a grab bag sort of deal where Bog had gotten a crate of random old books at a discount. There had been nothing else of interest or value in the crate and most of it had been bought up by art students or people looking to decorate their homes with a touch of pretension.

Giving up on working, Bog rearranged the book stacks to screen himself from view and settled back into his chair with the diary carefully open on the table in front of him. The writing after the betrayal of the author's fiancé grew darker and was written in bolder strokes than before. The brief mention of her heartache was not referred to again and the author plunged into a series of wild escapades that resulted in impressive scandals. Challenging her ex to a duel, for example. Or helping her sister elope with an unsuitable young man.

Each incident was sketched in a brief but vivid style that revealed very little personal emotion. Somehow Bog sensed her heartache even through the reckless, carefree dash of her pen. Maybe it was because he knew how it was to throw yourself into other things to avoid painful feelings. Maybe he was just projecting. Whatever the case, Bog wished he could have met this mystery writer. Or at least read the diaries that came after this one. This one ended with her notes on preparation to leave her family home and appeal to an aunt to help her take a house in town. The aunt sounded like quite the character. Bog wished he could hear more about her.

Closing the diary and stretching, Bog sighed. A fragment of someone's life, chipped away from the rest, a crystallized moment. He could look at the broken edges of it and imagine what the rest looked like, but he'd never really know. He admired the fragment of life he did know. She'd been shy and ashamed of who she was and when it came to a breaking point she shed all her doubts and fears and emerged bold, fearless, and truly herself. Admirable. Enviable. Bog could never imagine doing the same.

He'd been unlucky in love himself but unlike the author the blame had fallen entirely on him. He has assumed too much, pushed too much, imagined what wasn't there. He had imagined that a face and personality like his were at all lovable. He'd been painfully silly. While the author of the diary had advanced, Bog had retreated. Back into himself, into sullen in the back of the bookshop. Books were complete creatures. They didn't change on you. You couldn't misunderstand them like people.

Bog reread the last few sentences of the diary. Off on an adventure. Forever just setting off on an adventure. Not having the rest of the diaries in a way made it possible for her to forever been on her adventures, proud and free. Heartbreak and death, they couldn't touch her. Yes, truly an enviable thing.

Over the weeks Bog found himself looking at the diary again and again in his spare moments and even in moments he couldn't spare. Trying to picture the woman who fought for freedom in a world made to cage her.

'You asleep back there?” his mother called from the front of the shop.

“No.” Bog grunted from behind his books.

“Then get out here and help this customer, I'm swamped!”

Bog put the diary away and gritted his teeth. Customer service was his least favorite thing in the world. Especially when the customer was a woman and his mother was making encouraging faces in the background. Today was no different. A woman, probably around Bog's own age, but carrying it better, was loitering impatiently by the counter. She had sharp features and fine lines of cynicisms etched lightly around her mouth and eyes.

“Yes?” Bog asked. He was ready to see her disgust at the sight of him.

“Finally!” the woman said, “I tried calling you people all week! Don't you answer the phone?”

“Apparently not.” Bog could have explained their number had changed at their website hadn't been updated yet but he doubted that would have appeased her.

“Whatever,” she pulled a handful of papers out of the pocket of her leather jacket, “I'm looking for a book--”

“No, really?”

“Drop dead. A particular book. An old diary.”

Bog's heart skipped a beat. She couldn't have meant his. “Yeah, we get some coming through here, but we don't usually hang on to them long. Not much interest.”

“I'm the not much interest. Here's pictures of one of the companion diaries. It should be bound the same if the original cover is intact.”

Bog's heart sank. The picture looked like his diary. The photos of handwriting samples were a perfect match too. He made a split second decision and slapped the photos back on the counter. “Never seen it.”

“And you've read every book in this place?” the woman said, unconvinced.

“Close enough to make no difference.” he said firmly.

He wasn't giving up that diary. That little piece of a person he admired and felt almost like a friend to him. He'd bought it, legal and upfront. He'd no obligation to even admit he owned it.

“C'mon, you aren't even going to point me to your reject bin of worthless old books? All the other places at least had the courtesy to do that.”

“I make no claims to courtesy.”

The woman blew a few strands of reddish-brown hair out of her face. “Look, you oversized grump--”

“You look, tough girl with a Napoleon complex--”

“Napoleon wasn't even short!”

“You don't deny that you are?”

“Like you can even tell! You must bang your head every time you forget to duck going through a door. Look. This diary belongs in my family and I've been trying to track it down. Some great-great-great aunt or something. I've gotten most of the others but--”

“Others?”

“Yeah, all the early volumes and most of the later ones after she left home--”

“The later ones? Really?”

“Yeah—wait,” She gave him a measuring glare, “you do have one, don't you?”

Bog shrugged.

The woman, to Bog's astonishment, blushed. “You . . . you didn't read it, did you?”

Bog shrugged again.

The woman looked as if death would be a blessing. Bog was totally confused. She ran her hand through her short hair and cleared her throat, “Uh, which one—what point of her life—oh, fork it over!”

“Fork what over?” Bog asked with a smirk.

“You've got it, I want it! It belongs to me!”

“Ownership is nine tenths of the law, tough girl. If I have it, that is.”

“I'll break your thumbs. I'll pay you. A lot. Whatever you want.”

“Not interested.”

“Why? What good is a moldy old diary full of sentimental trash?”

“I like her.”

“Beg pardon?”

Now Bog found himself blushing. “I mean, the one who wrote it. She's—she was interesting. I like her. Her adventures. I like her adventures. She was obviously someone pretty unique and special and I like having that little glimpse into her life . . .”

The woman was red as a beet. From anger, Bog assumed. “You do have it! And please, she was a silly little idiot. Or—or so family legend has it.”

“She was extraordinary.” Bog insisted.

“Extraordinarily silly!”

“You've got the later volumes, right? Have you even read them? She was brave and steadfast and fought like mad for what she thought was right in a time in history where she was expected to sit down and shut up!”

“I hate you!”

“I'm not so foud of you either, tough girl!”

“Just give me the book! I'm putting together a family history thing and I want it for an exhibit. Yeah. An exhibit.”

“Can I make a copy?”

“No!”

“No deal.”

“What will it take, you cockroach?”

“Let me read the later diaries.”

“What? No way! No chance!”

“No deal.”

“Anything else!”

“Not interested.”

“You—I'll—I'll be back!”

The woman crammed her papers back in her pocket and stormed out of the shop.

Bog, avoiding the eyes of the other customers, stalked back to his desk, oddly flustered. He was angry at himself. He'd run smack into the descendant of the woman in the diary and he hadn't even gotten any contact information about her or the exhibit. Idiot. Some manners might have gone a long way, but no, he had to snap and growl. Idiot.

Bog looked at the diary. “I bet you'd dislike me as much as your grand-niece does, if you two are anything alike.”

#strange magic #spread the lofe #butterfly bog #the bog king #fiery warrior princess #king and queen of the dork forest #prompt #drabble #fanfic #my fanfic #human au

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obviousleeanonymous · 4 years

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Chutes and Ladders CH 11

Summary: To climb to the top, you gotta fall down a chute or two or three or four… and break a few bones. But it’s okay, ‘cause time heals all wounds. Right?

(Because I fogot I never posted this here, fam.)

CH1 AO3

You jangled the doorknob, a loose component rattling uselessly. The door remained locked. In your backpack of things that were not yours before you shoved said not-your-things within, you had varying screwdrivers and gizmos and gadgets and kawoozits. Before you fiddled for an aforementioned screwdriver that might work as intended, you stared down the basic welcome mat. Stepping back, you used your foot to flip the stalwart foe. Lo and behold, a nondescript key was underneath! People still did that? It was like asking to be robbed.

Shrugging to no one in particular, you slid the key into the brass lock. At worst, it would simply not be the correct key, so it hardly hurt to try.

The door opened with ease, creaking profoundly—a testament to people’s inherent stupidity. Not that it much mattered anymore, you have yet to encounter another person during your—how many days?—vagabondage.

The stench of stagnacity flowed from the room, with sepulcher heaviness and choking dust, and out to the hallway like water rushing through cracks in a failing dam.

You only took a single step into the room, absorbing the still-scene before closing your eyes.

The hum of cicadas became the electric sibilation of the refrigerator. Insensible jargon filtered through a small television on the countertop. A man brushed remnant crumbs of breakfast toast off the plastic laminate surface and perused a paper. A child ate cereal, secretly adding more when the adult was sufficiently distracted all the while grinning at her deft subterfuge. A teenage boy with horrible bed hair shambled groggily into the kitchen...

Was this morning routine—

You opened your eyes, suddenly grateful to be brought back to the derelict living area trapped in a state of perpetual abeyance, just waiting for someone to return to the moldy bowl on the table, pick up the fallen ceramic cup, and resume reading the long irrelevant newspaper. Coffee stains covered the the front page, obscuring the date, but you guessed it to be several months ago.

You made a home out of the bits and pieces others left behind.

After scouring the defunct abode at a listless pace—nothing to gain in haste but waste—you garnered a sizable stock of canned goods still within decent expiry and more clothing to augment your hobochic ensemble. And, of course, a magnificent, comfortable, plush, relaxing, state of the art, better than an organic mattress bean bag chair. Vintage puke chartreuse to boot!

The beds were aight tho’.

As you meandered through the modest apartment, you flicked the light switches and tested the faucets. Predictably, there was nothing in terms of basic utilities, but you spotted some change on the floor. A brilliant idea tickled and caressed the crevices of your gelatinous brain-muscle.

Hefting the prized bean bag awkwardly over your shoulder, you departed the apartment, stopping only to collect the scattering of coins. Locking the door with the key was an afterthought.

You knew every payphone, could practically smell the anachronistic booths from miles away.

You had a brilliant plan.

+_____+_____+

Payphones irrevocably meant something to you, something special, intrinsically intimate in a manner that should never logically be. Emotional lows were had within four enclosed grimy, semi-opaque walls.

But this… This felt different. Cathartic, even.

You reclined on the bean bag, shoved into the cramped booth, legs propped on the protective casing that partially housed the phone. The dense cord only barely reached far enough. Your head lolled back, blood rushing, and you gazed at the sky—buildings in Spartan hues cutting into vibrant cerulean like jagged teeth.

Though you were certifiably certain you were on hold longer than you had been speaking with the operator and subsequently a customer service rep of the Z-City Waterworks, you had a pocket full of change and nothing better to do.

The irritatingly dross hold music cut off, a voice tentatively questioning, “Hello, miss—”

“Yah. I need water in my place.”

“...And you are sure you’re a tenant of Junction Crossing?”

“Yep,” you glanced at the crude scratches on your arm, roughly resembling the building name and apartment number. Keys made poor knives and even poorer writing instruments. “Number 124C.”

A long pause.

You tried to readjust, stretching your cramping legs but your walking-limbs slipped on the glass. So you wiggled, further digging yourself into the forming contours of polystyrene beads.

“I’m terribly sorry, but no one lives there.” You could feel the tense smile surely plastered on his face—for no one could sound so artificially pleasant.

“I do. It’s why I’m callin’ ya. Yakno. Water.”

“That neighborhood is a warzone. We don’t service it but if you relocate to a safe—”

“Sweetcheeks McGee, what is the name of your biznass,” you never even gave him a chance to respond, “Z-City Waterworks! I. Am. In. Z-City. You can’t not not give me water. That’s like murder.”

“I—That—You… How is murder?”

Oh Sweetcheeks walked into that debacle. Inhaling, you bawled melodramatically, “You want me to die of thirst!”

He sighed, giving up. “Ok! Ok! I’ll put it through but it will be turned off when you don’t pay.”

“‘Kay, Sweetcheeks.”

The other line went dead and you tossed the receiver, not caring to get up just yet. Rather, contemplating the meaning of life seemed a much more topical subject—which was nothing.

You just didn’t want to recall anything other than the right now. Guilt had no place—this is your new life, a new you. All else be damned.

But then you saw him walking all casual-like, a glorious baldylocks bedecked in a boob-tastic hoodie staring blandly at a receipt with a meager bag of groceries limply dangling in his other hand.

At first, you wanted to ask how he made the world upside down, but you remembered how you were reclining as the next best thing came out of your mouth. “Ya scrub, buying shit.”

He halted, staring at you in blank volumes that resonated with your being and said a solitary, “Eh?” He was familiar, a kindred animal—though you just met him, this bald fellow did not seem like a person who tolerated bullshit.

You could dig that.

“Ya live here too, right?”

He shrugged, “Yeah.”

“There’s like a ton of abandoned stores, bruh. Mad easy to get fat like cats.”

His eyes widened marginally. “How come I never thought of that?”

“I ain’t got nothin’ to do, neighbor. Wanna go lootin’?”

He took a minute to contemplate, picking his nose with minimal zeal. “Ok, I guess.”

#fanfiction #reader insert #one punch man #dark humor #slowburn #romance #reader x zombieman #reader x amai mask #reader x sweet mask

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universe-in-the-void-in-the-cube · 2 years

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I posted 10,287 times in 2021

581 posts created (6%)

9706 posts reblogged (94%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 16.7 posts.

I added 160 tags in 2021

#hetalia - 34 posts

#hetalia nordics - 21 posts

#nanowrimo - 20 posts

#hetalia nordic 5 - 17 posts

#happyflappymoscowbirbpleyyn - 16 posts

#hetalia norway - 12 posts

#hetalia 2p nordics - 11 posts

#hetalia denmark - 10 posts

#hetalia iceland - 10 posts

#hetalia 2p - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#i change from neutral to chaotic neutral to neutral good to flat out chaotic depending on hot big the cup is and hot hot the cup is.

My Top Posts in 2021

Zentagle Magick!

Basically it is a form of hyper sigil that you make by picking the colors and shapes that represent you intention for what you want to invoke and build up your energy as you make the zentangle and then when you finished with the zentagle then the energy to manifest gets released into the universe.

Since shapes and colors have meanings you can make various combinations using various shapes and colors when doing zentagles. And they are super quick, relaxing and a great way to invoke and build up energy of what you want to manifest and when the zentagle is done you release that energy having pretty art that is really a hyper sigil.

27 notes • Posted 2021-06-05 04:12:05 GMT

Oh to let others know, I DESPISE Valentines Day. I mean I hate it.

Always got short changed or bullied on Valentines day or at school Valentines day parties.

And being married to a man for 27 years that seems to ditch me and snub me off every year on Valentines day and come to find out he has been cheating on me off and on through our marriage. Makes me hate this holiday more.

For once I want a Valentines day where I am appreciated, loved and cared about. Not treated like a pile of moldy, slimy shit like every year of my life!

34 notes • Posted 2021-02-14 05:59:56 GMT

How to use Celestial Energies and the Elements of the Periodic Table to magically charge your items or The Periodic Spell of Elemental Items.

Things needed

· Object to be charged

· Paper to write the sigil on.

· Pen, pencil or marker to make the sigil.

· Starmap or a starmap app.

Preparation

1) On paper make the sigil* of the element you using based on the periodic table.

*The sigil of the element you choose is basically an atom diagram with electron shell of the atom with dots representing the nucleus and the electrons of the element.

2) Write your intention between the spots that reparent the electrons in the electron shells.

Ex: Using the element Aluminum as an example you would write the things you want to invoke in your object that you assonate with the element you are working with. Aluminum is assorted with Preservation, Self-Preservation, Protection, Discipline and Self-Discipline.

See the full post

45 notes • Posted 2021-02-09 09:57:35 GMT

How complicated is Quantum Psychology?

Just place a cat and something that could kill the cat (radioactive poison) in a box and sealed it and place it in a cage with a hungry dog (that instantly starts drooling when it hears a bell), and the only way to know if the cat is alive or dead is to open the box, and the only way to open the box is to collect enough dog drool. And you have to wonder if the dog is die from the radioactive poison, from eating a radioactive cat as well as wonder if the radio active cat is dead or alive and if alive will the cat live or die from the poison or from fighting the dog to escape the cage.

Other wise this thought experiment is know as...

Schrodinger's Cat meets Pavlov's Dog.

76 notes • Posted 2021-04-18 10:04:21 GMT

Day and Night Phases of the Sun

I was thinking when it came to Sun magick daytime shouldn’t be the only time you can do Sun magick. Just because the Sun isn’t in our view of the sky when it is nighttime doesn’t mean the Sun isn’t still in the sky. It would give more depth when dealing with Sun Magick, since even the Sun has a dark side in various magickal, occult and religious practices all around the world, so why not go with that concept and run with it.

So here is what I came up with in addition to the known Sun phases.

· Dawn – New Beginnings, Charging

· Morning – Relationships, Building, Growth

· Noon – Justice, Protection, Health

· Afternoon – Resolution, Clarity

· Sunset – Divination, Charging

· Dusk – Endings, Grounding

· Twilight – Inner work, Deconstruction, Banishment

· Midnight - Braking Curses, Hexes and Jinxes, Doing Bindings, Shadow Work

· Daybreak – Manifestation and Intention Work, Divination, Grounding

I have been thinking this for over a month now and compared it to my own practice and it seems during these times at night that work well for me and figured I share my ideas with my fellow witches and pagans.

So, if you want to add anything or suggest anything to this don’t be afraid to message me. Thanks.

99 notes • Posted 2021-03-10 10:16:51 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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conversationalonion · 5 years

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Great day today and finally took some time after it warmed up and the snow melted to get out and play a bit. First things first though, a melting morning found me doing my morning dittly do chores and finding the cedar seeds I collected from the trees up front are doing more than sitting around, I’ve about 6 sprouts that I saw fit to move to mason jars of potting soil yesterday and figured I’d snap a pic today of one!

Look at him go! I honestly expected nothing but a bunch of moldy seeds given that I tossed them in an empty chew container with some moist paper and forgot about them for a few weeks. Hah the miracles of nature I suppose! Everything I have read about these guys tells me the chances are incredibly close to nihl to get sprouts let alone grow some baby trees but it gave me something to do and puts a smile on my face today so why not!

Now on to the day with the saws! I got the pleasure of dusting off the miter saw, my table saw, and my bandsaw again. Off hip I did three cutouts on the band saw: another different kind of cat, a dog holding a leash, and an alpaca. None of these have detail cut or burned in yet and are simply rough cuts but I’m not unhappy with how they came along given I used my craptastic art skills to try and trace and play with lines until things were semi agreeable.

I then let my random take over for a bit and did a “no plans” bench out of reclaimed fencing. I opted to use the posts for well, posts! And framed in with 2×4 doing two simple box frames for the bottom half. The rear posts are cut with a 15* angle on the bottoms to lean the back “just so” and I used a third 2×4 along the top of the rear posts to support the pickets making up the back.

My original intention was to use reclaimed fasteners but since I have yet to sort my buckets for straight nails / screws I used my trusty 16 gauge nailer and outdoor construction screws. 2 1/2″ nails were used alongside 2 1/2″ screws for framing (all at angles) and 1 1/2″ nails were used to fasten the pickets.

I’ve still yet to sand and maybe do some smoothing of the corners with my plane not to mention whatever finish I choose but given I jumped in with no plans and just an off hip idea… I’m pretty happy with it.

I’m thinking of doing some sort of cap to the rear posts and maybe adding a few slats on the lower box for a utility “shelf” but for a quick garden bench it’s quite comfortable at the angle I chose and the more I look at it the more I like it as a quick few hour project!

Tomorrow I have two appointments and will also be working on the ignition of my sweethearts van so it’s sure to be a busy and hectic day. I’m glad I had the thought of using today more to play. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of cursing and frustration in the future cutting the detail of the leash in doggo’s mouth as well as finishing out the rest of the pieces but hey, it keeps me busy!

.oO{The Conversational Onion}Oo.

Impromptu Woodworking Great day today and finally took some time after it warmed up and the snow melted to get out and play a bit.

#garden bench #projects #reclaimed wood #scrollsaw work #woodcraft #woodwork

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nofomoartworld · 7 years

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Hyperallergic: A DIY Space Is Forced to Close in Denver Amid the Post-Ghost Ship Crackdown

A show at Rhinoceropolis in 2008 (photo by Julio Enriquez/Flickr)

On a cold winter’s night, back when I was a pimply teenager trying to find my place, some fellow artist-musician friends and I went to a mysterious concert we’d heard about on MySpace. When we finally found the address, in a dingy industrial neighborhood in Denver, we were sure we had the wrong place. As we stood there scratching our heads, someone noticed a small placard on the door to a seemingly vacant building — the hand-painted sign read “Rhinoceropolis.” Little did I know then that this inconspicuous warehouse would change my life. Now, the future of Rhinoceropolis hangs in the balance after the commune that called it home was evicted following the Ghost Ship fire in Oakland because of allegedly “serious” code violations.

Back during our first DIY adventure, my friends and I knocked on the door. No response. We gave it a push and stumbled into a deserted flex space used as a gallery, living room, and concert venue all in one. After some confused wandering, we found a serene-looking punk passed out on a couch and gave him a gentle shake. “Oh, are you guys here for the concert?” he asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “Yeah, should be started around 11 or 12.” Kids drinking 40s and smoking cigarettes started pouring into the venue around 11:45pm, before the ambient duo, Married in Berdichev, cast a spell on the audience amid a tangle of delay pedals, chimes, and Christmas lights. Eventually the Mathematicians took the floor to close out the night.

I’ll never forget what The Mathematicians told the crowd that night. “If you want to learn, go to a library,” said one of the band mates. “If you want to have sex with girls, go to college.” In my 16-year-old wisdom, it was one of the best pieces of advice anyone had ever given me. I like to think that the band — mostly made up of working engineers and scientists — was subtly encouraging us to get an education by appealing to the more primitive impulses of our youth.

A show at Rhinoceropolis in 2008 (photo by Julio Enriquez/Flickr)

Another unforgettable night we went to see underground legend Dan Deacon, a founding member of Baltimore’s Wham City collective, perform at “Rhino,” as the space is known colloquially. It was a hotly anticipated show and so the crew rented a big JBL sound system for the night. Deacon led the crowd in a whirling, jumping, thumping rager. The small warehouse was packed wall-to-wall. The crowd moved in a whirlpool like a single organism, with Deacon at its center, writhing around as if in a trance. In a big train, hands to shoulders, Deacon led the crowd out of the venue’s back door, into the courtyard, and back into the steaming room as the beat threatened to tumble the brick complex to the ground. When the show was over, the crowd burst out of the front door and into a snowstorm in a huge cloud of sweaty condensation.

On many similar nights, Travis Egedy, aka Pictureplane, performed at the space, where he also lived and worked. He was one of the original members of the collective and, like the other members, was part of an amorphous community of DIY spaces stretching from coast to coast and jumping across oceans. “The vision of a space like that is always about freedom, I think,” Egedy told Hyperallergic in an email. “Freedom to create your own reality outside of the constructs of society. It was a place people could come to explore themselves, and to discover themselves — I know that I discovered myself there.” A lot of people, myself included, found pieces of their identities at Rhino.

“Coming to Denver in 2007 and being introduced to this dayglo cave that artists and musicians both lived and performed in was a major moment for me in seeing the possibility of art as a part of an everyday lived experience,” Adam Gildar, of Denver’s Gildar Gallery, told Hyperallergic. “A number of the artists I’ve worked with over the years, some of whom have gained national and international recognition, have had direct ties to the warehouse as residents and regular contributors to its community.”

A crowded show at Rhinoceropolis in 2011 (photo by Jeff Ruane/Flickr)

Beginning in 2005, for at least half a dozen years, Rhinoceropolis — along with its next-door neighbor, Glob — was the main cultural incubator in Denver and a popular stop for touring bands and experimental artists passing through Middle America. A whole host of more mature gallery spaces, bands, artists, etc. where born out of Rhino. Today, the city of Denver, with its burgeoning arts scene, owes a huge debt to the DIY space and the artists who came up there. “I really hope that the city of Denver can recognize that a place like Rhinoceropolis, that has been serving the city for 11 years, is hugely important as a cultural landmark for the city,” said Egedy. “Denver needs to help preserve and save Rhino.”

“Undoubtedly Rhino has also played a role in influencing other spaces in Denver,” Gildar said, “ranging from other artist-run galleries and venues to its institutions such as the Museum Of Contemporary Art, which has also exhibited multiple artists from that community over the last decade.”

As has been pointed out in the aftermath of the Ghost Ship tragedy, artists don’t usually live in warehouses with improvised bedrooms and moldy microwaves because they think it’s romantic. Artists live in DIY work-live studio spaces because it’s the only way they can afford to have space to both work and live. No one in their right mind thinks it’s cool to not be “up to code.” But it also makes artists and DIY spaces vulnerable to sudden eviction, as we have recently seen with Rhino and Baltimore’s Bell Foundry. In Denver, members were evicted at a moment’s notice into single-digit temperatures because of “serious fire code violations,” as the Denver Fire Department put it.

“The fire hazards identified create a dangerously flammable environment including extension cords used for permanent wiring, wrapping paper on the walls, and plastic on the ceiling,” the Denver Mayor’s Office said in an email to Hyperallergic. “The building is not zoned for residential use and therefore does not have the required smoke detection devices and fire suppression systems (i.e. sprinkler systems), nor does it have a properly working furnace to ensure the safety of anyone living inside.”

A show at Rhinocropolis in 2008 (photo by Julio Enriquez/Flickr)

But Egedy feels that the code violations are just an excuse to crack down on artistic dissent and he’s suspicious of the rash of DIY artist space evictions following what happened in Oakland. “The shutting down of DIY venues all over America after Oakland does feel political to me,” he said. “They’re using a tragedy as an excuse to shut down spaces that the police and the government see as politically charged.”

“Our efforts are focused on ensuring safe spaces for our artistic community and to help facilitate this outcome, we are holding a community meeting with the RiNo neighborhood and others on January 18 at 5:30pm at the McNichols Building,” said the Mayor’s Office. But the RiNo neighborhood, though it encompasses Rhino’s location, is not to be confused with the DIY space, which represented the antithesis of the rapid gentrification underway in the the surrounding area. Back when my friends and I found our way to the magical space via MySpace, the neighborhood was a dark industrial wasteland, and its griminess added to its character.

Threatened by gentrification and zoned for industrial use, the future of Rhinoceropolis is uncertain if not bleak. But maybe some of the power of DIY artists’ spaces, communes, and underground cultural incubators is derived from their impermanence. Resistance through creativity can’t be static or location-dependent, and so Rhinoceropolis, the Bell Foundry, Ghost Ship, Drop City, Black Mountain College and countless other project spaces live on through their legacies as places of refuge from the flattening forces of patriarchal capitalism. May many more laboratories of artistic awesomeness always sprout up in their wakes.

Party remnants at Rhinoceropolis (photo by Julio Enriquez/Flickr)

The post A DIY Space Is Forced to Close in Denver Amid the Post-Ghost Ship Crackdown appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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charlesjening · 5 years

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Let’s Talk About How CPA Canada Totally F*cked Up Last Week’s CFE

Many years ago in another lifetime, I dated this total loser. Now, I know what you’re thinking: “Adrienne, what the hell do your dubious dating choices have to do with accounting?” Bear with me, we’ll get there.

So, this loser. He was an adorable if grungy scamp with tattoos dotted across his body like scribbles on my middle school notebook covers and dirty blonde hair that managed to be both greasy and perfectly-coiffed at all times. Young me, not yet schooled in the fine art of red flags that subsequent years of dating would teach me, was weak to his charms despite the fact that he brought little to the table other than a killer smile and the occasional bottle of Remy, the latter of which impressed young me since I was too young then to buy my own and too lazy to stand outside of the liquor store waiting for some 30-year-old dorky sap to buy me one.

As I’m sure you can imagine by this point in the story, this guy came with more issues than National Geographic, not least of which being his attraction to substances — both licit and not. This generally wasn’t a problem as he was clever enough to weasel out of most predicaments his unfortunate choices got him into, and I clever enough to avoid him when he was on a bender. But every now and then, he’d find himself face-to-face with some cop who was sick of having to drag his drunk ass in every other week.

In one whiskey-and-who-knows-what-else-fueled incident I can recall, he called me from the drunk tank to inform me that A) I was a bitch for ditching him earlier in the evening, and B) he was in jail, possibly facing an actual charge for fighting or stealing or who the hell can remember, it doesn’t matter now. Given that I lacked both the bail money to get him out and the will to do a favor for someone who just called me a bitch, I let him sit there. A few short hours later, he was out. The time from arrest to his release couldn’t have been more than maybe three or four hours.

So why did I just tell this story? To put into perspective the fact that CPA Canada just treated the country’s future CPAs worse than police treated my loser ex-boyfriend who definitely deserved to be locked up for being an absolute waste of carbon.

Let’s get caught up on this, likely the worst professional examination debacle I think we’ve ever covered in our 10 years here on Going Concern. Because we’re a mostly American-based rag, I feel obligated to explain what the CFE (Common Final Examination) is and how it’s administered, if briefly. Unlike here in the good ole U. S. of A. where future CPAs can schedule exams with relative flexibility, Canadian accountants have to endure a three-day exam that is usually administered just once a year, though sometimes like next year they get lucky and have two chances. This year, the CFE started on Sept. 11 and, according to many reports, was already off to a bad start. But by Sept. 12, the shit had totally hit the fan.

9:15 in Vancouver on day 2 CFE. No one can load secure exam. from r/Accounting

On Monday, a tipster caught us up on the drama which we missed because A) we regrettably forget about our friends up north sometimes, and B) at least for me, I was too busy with Borderlands 3 to waste my time trolling r/accounting for something to write about last weekend and totally missed the complaining.

Hi there,

I am reporting on CPA Canada’s negligence in carrying out this year’s Common Final Examination (“CFE”) last week. This is a very important 3-day examination that prospective accountants must pass to obtain the professional licence to practice accounting in Canada.

There was a massive breach of integrity of the exam because of CPA Canada’s negligence to carry out their job properly. This resulted in many students (i.e. Edmonton location) where they were forced to sit inside the examination centre for 4 hours before the exam started. In other words, when the exam was supposed to start at 9AM, they started at 1PM. They were starved and asked to stay inside the examination centre.

Jesus, even my loser ex-boyfriend got a moldy bologna sandwich in the holding tank.

CPA Canada’s failure to administer the exam and treat candidates with the minimum of dignity while they waited to take what is quite possibly the most important test of their lives has been picked up by all sorts of media, including the Financial Post.

FP writes:

Another online poster, who spoke to the Financial Post on the condition that he would not be identified, described seeing people in Edmonton in emotional and physical distress on the second day of the exam, which was delayed for five hours, and which ultimately proceeded without access to a crucial digital handbook.

“Everyone was tired, exhausted and seemed in no shape to write” by the time the exam started, the poster said on Reddit, adding that a series of delays left the candidates in the examination room for about 12 hours and facing huge lineups for access to limited food and water.

“We study our butts off and stress for 8 weeks only to experience this?” the exam-writer wrote.

A statement we received from an anonymous collective consisting of Canadian Big 4 employees operating under the name Wayne Gretzky (LOL) details the CFE failures, disappointments, and plans to hold CPA Canada responsible. It also explains the situation far better than I can with far fewer tangents about greasy ex-boyfriends, so let’s check it out:

After a poorly administered examination took place last week, Chartered Professional Accountant (“CPA”) candidates across Canada are left to question the integrity and competency of their governing bodies. More than eight thousand CPA students wrote the annual Common Final Examination (“CFE”) from September 11, 2019 to September 13, 2019. The CFE is a three-day examination which requires students who have completed certain post-graduate programs to write four to five hours of simulated business cases each day, testing their competencies to be licensed as a CPA. The CFE is known to be one of the most challenging examinations to write—arguably on par with other professional examinations such as the bar exam for lawyers or qualification exam for doctors—with the majority of candidates sacrificing weeks of time off from work in order to prepare and perform at their best.

What students could not prepare for, however, was the myriad of unexpected technical and administrative issues during this year’s examination. These issues severely disrupted their ability to perform and compromised the validity of examination results. This is the first year that new examination software, called Surpass, was rolled out, and it appears that CPA Canada—the organization which governs the profession and administers the examination—had not adequately prepared themselves for the issues that would come along with this rollout.

This led a number of test centres across the country to delay the examination for up to five hours with limited access to food, drinks, and washrooms. It was likened to being held hostage, and those students ended up writing from 2PM to 7PM when they should have been writing from 9AM to 2PM. One student writes, “I came in that morning ready, […] but the fatigue from sitting and waiting for hours plus unnecessary stress resulted in what I believe to be a clear fail. I’m a good student, I studied like my life depended on it. In a normal exam condition, I’d have passed without any issue.”

In addition, some students were handicapped by being forced to write responses by hand as opposed to typing, with no access to reference material on their computers during the “open-book” examination. The examination was supposed to be written through the Surpass software, which saved typed responses and allowed students to view certain reference material, while locking down their computers from opening other applications. The software was ultimately used by only a fraction of students, and even so, these students faced slow response times and periodic glitches. There are also students falling in the last category of being told to write on Microsoft Word and access the internet for reference material, because the software did not work for the entire centre. To this point, one student wonders, “The test was going to be written at one point with three different groups having various resources […] How can you mark a test three different ways and make that fair?”

Not only are there issues in the fairness of marking, but students are convinced that examination results were also compromised due to the opportunities that opened up for cheating. A student from the West coast wrote, “Our start time was after when Eastern Canada [sic] would have finished their exam and there was no measure taken to ensure that there was no exam information leakage across the country.”

Indeed, some students from the Eastern time zones posted details about specific questions on social media despite having accepted a confidentiality agreement prior to the examination, and their posts benefitted users in the West who had unsupervised access to the internet during the delays.

The inappropriate handling of the situation by CPA Canada only made matters worse. Proctors appeared to not have been trained or communicated with properly because they made last-minute decisions and provided inconsistent instructions. One student recalls that “the staff in the room were very disorganized and clearly had no clue what to do.” To add on, another student expresses, “I’m mostly upset with the time it took to resolve the issues, and the lack of communication provided to the candidates.”

Social media sites such as Reddit were flooded with comments after each day, from students sharing their “disappointing”, “horrifying”, and “disastrous” experiences while expressing their thoughts surrounding the “lack of professionalism” by CPA Canada. The issues mentioned in this article make up only a small number of many more outlined by the accounts of hundreds of students. Even individuals who did not write the examination had something to say about the series of events: “As a mentor to a student, and a current CPA profession member, the way the CFE was handled and carried out this year was blatantly unacceptable. I’m ashamed of my profession for the way this was carried out. There is no excuse for this.”

The Surpass software mentioned in the statement was first used for last year’s exams and is supposed to offer “enhanced functionality and flexibility for examination writers and administrators.” It’s unclear at this point what part if any Surpass played in this debacle. That said, I’ve got a PDF of hundreds of candidate comments in front of me with countless complaints about the software, leading a reasonable person to assume it had a lot to do with last week’s drama. Since this is already running long and I know you guys, like me, have the attention span of a gnat, I’ll only share a choice few.

Surpass has been a nightmare. I wasn’t even able to upload my exam today. Day 1 they kept us for an extra hour after the exam due to technical difficulties with the software. We were advised not to use the cut function because it would freeze the software. The whole rollout of Surpass seems very poorly planned and basically exactly what they are teaching us not to do, as CPAs. I certainly expected better, considering the amount of money I paid to write the CFE.

And:

Surpass froze on me roughly 3 hours into the exam. A proctor took my computer and spent 30 minutes working on it without telling me what he was doing. I saw him with a back-up laptop and a USB key, so I assumed he was transferring my work, but when I asked him about it, he told me that the work I did was saved on the USB, and that I would have to finish the exam by hand.

And:

Please note that this is not the first time that there have been issues with the new software. I wrote my elective exam in December, 2018 and experienced the same issues (actually worse, because my computer crashed multiple times and I lost 20-30 minutes).

And my favorite comment of all:

As I said, the thing goes on for comment after comment. We’d be here all day and probably piss off our benevolent overlords at Accountingfly for all the server space we’d have to buy just to host every single complaint if I posted every single one. Let’s just say Surpass isn’t looking good at this point.

Like damn. As some of y’all know, I’m a day one Fallout 76 player and even Bethesda isn’t this bad when it comes to glitches, good Lord.

Oh hey, Mr Glitched Ghoul Guy

Of course CPA Canada was forced to make a statement, the entirety of which we’re including below because why not, this thing is already long as hell.

During the administration of the three-day Common Final Exam (CFE) there were technical delays resulting in a challenging exam writing experience for many students. We extend our sincere apologies to everyone who was affected as we know how much work goes into preparing and writing this important examination and how stressful it has been for our students.

In response to issues caused by technical problems with the CFE, CPA Canada is retaining a third-party expert to conduct an independent, comprehensive review. The mandate includes evaluating the integrity and reliability of the September 2019 examination process.

To inform our review, we are actively gathering information from students, proctors, and others to understand what happened and how it impacted the exam-writing experience. We are committed to maintaining the integrity of the profession and the Common Final Examination.

An independent board of examiners oversees the CFE evaluation process. Over many years, they have developed a robust system for taking into account extenuating circumstances that affect exam-writers. Given what occurred during this year’s exam, this CFE evaluation process will be supplemented by the third-party review.

We will proceed as quickly as possible, but our main priority is to provide the time necessary for a fair, accurate and equitable outcome.

At the same time, we are also immediately reviewing the technical issues that arose across the country and are working with our service providers to do everything possible to avoid a future reoccurrence.

We recognize what a difficult time this has been for many and we want to reassure exam-writers we have the people and processes in place to resolve the situation as quickly and effectively as possible.

Yeah, tell that to the poor bastards holed up in a gymnasium for hours on end last week.

This disaster comes just after CPA Canada released a likely multimillion-dollar advertising campaign on “The New Face” of Canada’s CPAs, making for an awkward discussion about CPA Canada’s priorities when they’re burning the future new faces this hard.

The post Let’s Talk About How CPA Canada Totally F*cked Up Last Week’s CFE appeared first on Going Concern.

republished from Going Concern

#Technology #Finance

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nofomoartworld · 7 years

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Hyperallergic: A Mysterious 17th-Century Artist Who Saw Visions in Firewood’s Rings

Plate from What Heaven Looks Like: Comments on a Strange Wordless Book (courtesy Laboratory Books)

On paper dated to the 17th century, a now unknown artist painted visions seen in the chopped ends of wood. A spindly tree was sketched from a crack in the heartwood; in another painting annual rings were used to frame a blue-toned scene of Adam’s creation by God. Often the peculiar figures, dragons, and murky suggestions of animals are posed in caves and hollows, with wood whorls encircling the scenes. Now, for the first time, the mysterious manuscript, part of the special collections at Glasgow University Library, is being widely reproduced for the public.

Cover of What Heaven Looks Like: Comments on a Strange Wordless Book (courtesy Laboratory Books)

What Heaven Looks Like: Comments on a Strange Wordless Book, by James Elkins, is out this month from Laboratory Books, an independent publisher based in Astoria, Queens. Elkins is the E.C. Chadbourne Professor in the Department of Art History, Theory, and Criticism at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, and he gives commentary on the meaning, imagery, and art historical context of each of the 52 round watercolors.

Elkins first encountered the small volume while he was researching alchemy, as the John Ferguson Collection in Glasgow is one of the largest with such material. “They have some famous and well-studied books, but like most large collections, they also have manuscripts, and those tend to be less well known,” he told Hyperallergic. During the week that he examined the collection’s holdings, he noticed an object in the catalog with neither author, title, subject, or date. “So I just asked to see it, and that’s how I discovered the manuscript,” he said. “I tell this story to recommend real archival research to younger scholars: there are still undiscovered countries out there!”

The sole words in MS Ferguson 115 are in a Latin inscription that reads: “Work of Natural Magic, in which the Miracles of Pneumo–cosmic Nature are Painted with a Brush. Fully engraved by an Ape of Nature, following Nature’s universal Catholic Prototype, and dedicated to the eternal memory of the king.” The cryptic writing offers little on the identity of the author. In What Heaven Looks Like, Elkins considers the artist as a woman. He writes:

I think it was created by a woman who imagined what she saw in the ends of firewood logs. In one picture the wood is fresh and green, in another old and cracked, in a third moldy and peeling. From that I deduce she worked at her project over a long period, perhaps years. I think she lived alone, perhaps high up on a forested hillside — at least that is how I imagine her. I have written this book to try to understand what she may have felt and thought.

Although Elkins’s writing tackles mythology, Baroque religious art, Catholicism, and the darkness that creeps into these biblical and enigmatic paintings, the narrative is very accessible to read, divided into short essays for each plate. Rather than deciphering the paintings, What Heaven Looks Like is at its core about spending time with art. “It seems like something people would naturally do, but the art world and academia are very rushed these days,” he said, adding that he used to teach a class where students picked a painting and copied it for 14 weeks. “By the end of the semester most of them had been transformed by the experience. Seeing takes time, even though — perhaps especially because — it seems to be instantaneous.”

Plate from What Heaven Looks Like: Comments on a Strange Wordless Book (courtesy Laboratory Books)

After a couple of days with the manuscript in Glasgow, he bought high-quality slides to examine it remotely for a year. “My experience copying artworks was helpful, because it prompted me to try to see every single brushstroke,” he stated “I wanted to experience the speed and the process of making as much as possible.”

Whether the formally dressed man and woman painted in dark cave ringed by damp roots, or a crowned lion with a snake in its mouth (an alchemical symbol), Elkins imagined what the artist may have been feeling or thinking. “This anonymous late seventeenth-century artist is not modern in the sense that she fits in with Man Ray or Max Ernst; she is modern in the ways she occludes the clear subjects that she might have painted,” Elkins writes. “If that means making God the Father into a green specter, or stretching a lamb into a dome and pasting on a puppy’s head, she does it. The only limit is what she can bear to see on the page.”

Was the artist lonely, undergoing the uncertainty of an age of fading faith and emerging individuality? Were these specimens of wood from somewhere sacred, like a church or burial ground? Why did the artist paint things as if perceived from a distance, indistinct and shadowy? It’s impossible to know, yet meditating on each curious watercolor — a golden heaven or a man walking the fractured wood of a tree trunk like a tightrope — suggests something of the artist’s passions and anxieties about their place in the world.

“It’s from experiences like that, which take a long time and don’t result immediately in discoveries, that you get intuitions about artworks like this one,” Elkins said. “This is a very quiet book, meaning it wasn’t for some large public. It might have been just for the artist who made it. Art like that takes an especially long time to seep in to your awareness.”

Plate from What Heaven Looks Like: Comments on a Strange Wordless Book (courtesy Laboratory Books)

Pages from What Heaven Looks Like: Comments on a Strange Wordless Book (photo of the book for Hyperallergic)

Plate from What Heaven Looks Like: Comments on a Strange Wordless Book (courtesy Laboratory Books)

Pages from What Heaven Looks Like: Comments on a Strange Wordless Book (photo of the book for Hyperallergic)

Plate from What Heaven Looks Like: Comments on a Strange Wordless Book (courtesy Laboratory Books)

What Heaven Looks Like: Comments on a Strange Wordless Book by James Elkins is out now from Laboratory Books.

The post A Mysterious 17th-Century Artist Who Saw Visions in Firewood’s Rings appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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