Just-another-weird-artist - Just Another Weird Artist

AI under capitalism

Random sketch. (45min)

I was just doodling around with a newly created brush and things got out of control.

The Dreamer in Alagadda.

This sketch is still far from finished but i love it and I can't wait to paint it.

I hate having to sketch with so much detail but 3 point perspective is a b***h.

In a moment of boredom and art block I decided to read "The demon in the wood" by Leigh Bardugo and now child!Aleksander lives rent free in my poor brain. And now I am searching references for "sliced corpses". Not creepy at all.

From the writings of Lady Chandra of Alagadda, on the events leading up to the Second War of the Masks.

The children of the Dream are no longer mortal, although at first they remain creatures of flesh, they have always been and always will be. Mortal and immortal, human and inhuman, those we call Dreamers live in a fragile balance, always on the run, always on the go, always hunted down, yet infinitely free. The first Dreamer I met was (and I hope still is) the Honorable Nian Zhen, Chief Archivist of the Library, my friend, benefactor and Master. The name by which he is best known outside the city , however, is the less flattering name of Mad Dreamer. In the Lands of Kouranes, and among the Dreamers who roam the Darklin Plain, they call him the Lost, the Fool, the Forsaken, the Prisoner, yet he is one of the greatest of his kind, having pushed himself to the limits of the Dream, to the Void beyond Being. His are the words with which I have described the Second Birth of the Dreamers, to him we owe all our little knowledge of this elusive species. Only after her disappearance, by sheer coincidence, did I meet the Dreamer. Arual was her name. It was the day of the 3345 Carnival of the Red Lord and the City throbbed at a frenzied rhythm under a scarlet sky, lost in ecstasy. The last time I saw her, the city was burning and destruction was following in her footsteps. Much of what happened after that day was because of her, yet while I hate the consequences of her actions, as I hate what they led me to do, I can't hate her, because I know she had no choice. Or perhaps, if she had, every other decision would have led to unacceptable consequences. For my part, I acted in good conscience, with honor and diligence, always pursuing the interests of the City.

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Dagli scritti di Lady Chandra di Alagadda, sugli eventi che portarono alla seconda Guerra delle Maschere.

[I sognatori] Non più mortali i figli del Sogno, pur restando in un primo momento creature di carne, sono sempre stati e saranno sempre. Mortali e immortali, umani e inumani, coloro che chiamiamo Sognatori vivono in un fragile equilibrio, sempre in fuga, sempre in viaggio, sempre braccati, eppure infinitamente liberi.

Il primo Sognatore che abbia incontrato era ( e spero che sia ancora) l'Onorevole Nian Zhen, Capo Archivista della Biblioteca, mio amico, benefattore e Maestro. Il nome con cui però è più conosciuto fuori dai confini della Città è quello, meno lusinghiero, di Sognatore Folle. Nelle Terre di Kouranes, e tra i Sognatori che vagano nella Piana Oscura, lo chiamano il Perduto, il Matto, l'Abbandonato, il Prigioniero, eppure è uno dei più grandi della sua specie, essendosi spinto fino ai limiti del Sogno, fino al Vuoto oltre l'Essere. Sue sono le parole con cui ho descritto la Seconda Nascita dei Sognatori, a lui dobbiamo tutta la nostra scarsa conoscenza di questo specie così elusiva.

Solo dopo la sua scomparsa, per pura coincidenza, ho incontrato la Sognatrice. 

Arual era il suo nome. 

Era il giorno del 3345 Carnevale del Signore Rosso e la Città pulsava a un ritmo forsennato sotto un cielo scarlatto, persa nell'estasi. 

L'ultima volta che l'ho vista la città stava bruciando e la distruzione seguiva le sue orme.

Buona parte di quello che è successo dopo quel giorno è stato per causa sua, eppure nonostante detesti le conseguenze delle sue azioni, come detesto quello che mi hanno portato a fare, non posso odiarla, perché sono consapevole che non aveva scelta. O forse, se l'aveva, ogni altra decisione avrebbe portato a conseguenze inaccettabili. 

Per parte mia ho agito in buona coscienza, con onore e diligenza, sempre portando avanti gli interessi della Città.

Arual the Dreamer leaves Alagadda as she begins the Metamorphosis of her Third Birth.

Euron Crow's Eye

Another random sketch on infinite design. I may be developing an addiction to it.

I haven't even watched the show yet but I light just because of this.

This is hilarous. Gil-galad edit narrated by Ben Walker (the excerpts are from his interview in Rings and Realms). source

A doctor discovers an important question patients should be asked

This patient isn’t usually mine, but today I’m covering for my partner in our family-practice office, so he has been slipped into my schedule.

Reading his chart, I have an ominous feeling that this visit won’t be simple.

A tall, lanky man with an air of quiet dignity, he is 88. His legs are swollen, and merely talking makes him short of breath.

He suffers from both congestive heart failure and renal failure. It’s a medical Catch-22: When one condition is treated and gets better, the other condition gets worse. His past year has been an endless cycle of medication adjustments carried out by dueling specialists and punctuated by emergency-room visits and hospitalizations.

Hemodialysis would break the medical stalemate, but my patient flatly refuses it. Given his frail health, and the discomfort and inconvenience involved, I can’t blame him.

Now his cardiologist has referred him back to us, his primary-care providers. Why send him here and not to the ER? I wonder fleetingly.

With us is his daughter, who has driven from Philadelphia, an hour away. She seems dutiful but wary, awaiting the clinical wisdom of yet another doctor.

After 30 years of practice, I know that I can’t possibly solve this man’s medical conundrum.

A cardiologist and a nephrologist haven’t been able to help him, I reflect,so how can I? I’m a family doctor, not a magician. I can send him back to the ER, and they’ll admit him to the hospital. But that will just continue the cycle… .

Still, my first instinct is to do something to improve the functioning of his heart and kidneys. I start mulling over the possibilities, knowing all the while that it’s useless to try.

Then I remember a visiting palliative-care physician’s words about caring for the fragile elderly: “We forget to ask patients what they want from their care. What are their goals?”

I pause, then look this frail, dignified man in the eye.

“What are your goals for your care?” I ask. “How can I help you?”

The patient’s desire

My intuition tells me that he, like many patients in their 80s, harbors a fund of hard-won wisdom.

He won’t ask me to fix his kidneys or his heart, I think. He’ll say something noble and poignant: “I’d like to see my great-granddaughter get married next spring,” or “Help me to live long enough so that my wife and I can celebrate our 60th wedding anniversary.”

His daughter, looking tense, also faces her father and waits.

“I would like to be able to walk without falling,” he says. “Falling is horrible.”

This catches me off guard.

That’s all?

But it makes perfect sense. With challenging medical conditions commanding his caregivers’ attention, something as simple as walking is easily overlooked.

A wonderful geriatric nurse practitioner’s words come to mind: “Our goal for younger people is to help them live long and healthy lives; our goal for older patients should be to maximize their function.”

Suddenly I feel that I may be able to help, after all.

“We can order physical therapy — and there’s no need to admit you to the hospital for that,” I suggest, unsure of how this will go over.

He smiles. His daughter sighs with relief.

“He really wants to stay at home,” she says matter-of-factly.

As new as our doctor-patient relationship is, I feel emboldened to tackle the big, unspoken question looming over us.

“I know that you’ve decided against dialysis, and I can understand your decision,” I say. “And with your heart failure getting worse, your health is unlikely to improve.”

He nods.

“We have services designed to help keep you comfortable for whatever time you have left,” I venture. “And you could stay at home.”

Again, his daughter looks relieved. And he seems … well … surprisingly fine with the plan.

I call our hospice service, arranging for a nurse to visit him later today to set up physical therapy and to begin plans to help him to stay comfortable — at home.

Back home

Although I never see him again, over the next few months I sign the order forms faxed by his hospice nurses. I speak once with his granddaughter. It’s somewhat hard on his wife to have him die at home, she says, but he’s adamant that he wants to stay there.

A faxed request for sublingual morphine (used in the terminal stages of dying) prompts me to call to check up on him.

The nurse confirms that he is near death.

I feel a twinge of misgiving: Is his family happy with the process that I set in place? Does our one brief encounter qualify me to be his primary-care provider? Should I visit them all at home?

Two days later, and two months after we first met, I fill out his death certificate.

Looking back, I reflect: He didn’t go back to the hospital, he had no more falls, and he died at home, which is what he wanted. But I wonder if his wife felt the same.

Several months later, a new name appears on my patient schedule: It’s his wife.

“My family all thought I should see you,” she explains.

She, too, is in her late 80s and frail, but independent and mentally sharp. Yes, she is grieving the loss of her husband, and she’s lost some weight. No, she isn’t depressed. Her husband died peacefully at home, and it felt like the right thing for everyone.

“He liked you,” she says.

She’s suffering from fatigue and anemia. About a year ago, a hematologist diagnosed her with myelodysplasia (a bone marrow failure, often terminal). But six months back, she stopped going for medical care.

I ask why.

“They were just doing more and more tests,” she says. “And I wasn’t getting any better.”

Now I know what to do. I look her in the eye and ask:

“What are your goals for your care, and how can I help you?”

-Mitch Kaminski

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