Nearly Every Autistic Person On The Face Of The Earth Has Been Groomed For Abuse From An Early Age.

good omens

made conomi akahori

So tumblr ate my post.

ANYWAY

Acetone doesn't work. Maybe soaking it might've, but I didn't want to risk shrinking/warping the head to find out.

A dab of Winsor & Newton brush cleaner, on the other hand, works very well. Even made it easier to magic eraser off the remaining bits. :)

Wonder if the gloss was what was resisting the acetone or the sort of paint they used. Maybe both.

Got the BTS dolls V and Jung Kook since they had the closest faces to the characters I'm going to use them for. Ordered them online since I didn't care that much how off the paint placement was but still a little sad I can't salvage much of it. LA's Totally Awesome did a good job getting rid of whatever product was in their hair, tho.

Tried to remove V's face first. Took 20min with a magic eraser just to get that much off his eye. :/ The rest is on the eye surface and underside of the lash line, so I'll just paint over it.

Luckily his lips seemed to only be two paint layers deep, so it took only a few minutes.

Will definitely be getting more of these boys when they go on sale if only for the sculpts alone.

As someone who has lived with both of these all my life (I live in the Midwest), yes

I just witnessed someone ask for a plant to be identified on facebook and because it had leaves in groups of three, dozens of fully grown adults said "LEAVES OF THREE!!!! POISON IVY!! I CAN SPOT IT ANYWHERE!"........it was not even close to poison ivy. There are multiple plants with leaves "in threes." Thousands and thousands of them. This is like saying any animal with four legs is an alligator.

Okay, so I bought one of those cheapo styling heads fom Dollar Tree, thinking I could stick her on my Endless Hair Barbie.

Unsurprisingly, the rooting is bad and sparse. She also started shedding really bad after I removed the rubber band holding her hair.

So she was a little bigger than I expected, though the vinyl was a good color match in-person, lol.

She fit size-wise on a 1/3 body I got off ebay. Her neck hole would need modding to fit. With a 10/11 wig, she almost looks okay. Granted, I had to chop off all her terrible hair to put the wig on.

I'd say the head is really only okay for learning to mod and repaint vinyl heads in 1\3 scale. She would definately need a reroot or wig, though.

Custom from 2023!

Artist Carves Wooden Rope Sculpture From a Tree Trunk

Artist Maskull Lasserre indulges in sculptural practice that strikes a delicate balance between hard-edged industrial media and a delicately poetic resolve, blending the two beautifully.

Keep reading

Toad Words

            Frogs fall out of my mouth when I talk. Toads, too.

            It used to be a problem.

            There was an incident when I was young and cross and fed up parental expectations. My sister, who is the Good One, has gold fall from her lips, and since I could not be her, I had to go a different way.

            So I got frogs. It happens.

            “You’ll grow into it,” the fairy godmother said. “Some curses have cloth-of-gold linings.” She considered this, and her finger drifted to her lower lip, the way it did when she was forgetting things. “Mind you, some curses just grind you down and leave you broken. Some blessings do that too, though. Hmm. What was I saying?”

            I spent a lot of time not talking. I got a slate and wrote things down. It was hard at first, but I hated to drop the frogs in the middle of the road. They got hit by cars, or dried out, miles away from their damp little homes.

            Toads were easier. Toads are tough. After awhile, I learned to feel when a word was a toad and not a frog. I could roll the word around on my tongue and get the flavor before I spoke it. Toad words were drier. Desiccated is a toad word. So is crisp and crisis and obligation. So are elegant and matchstick.

            Frog words were a bit more varied. Murky. Purple. Swinging. Jazz.

I practiced in the field behind the house, speaking words over and over, sending small creatures hopping into the evening.  I learned to speak some words as either toads or frogs. It’s all in the delivery.

            Love is a frog word, if spoken earnestly, and a toad word if spoken sarcastically. Frogs are not good at sarcasm.

            Toads are masters of it.

            I learned one day that the amphibians are going extinct all over the world, that some of them are vanishing. You go to ponds that should be full of frogs and find them silent. There are a hundred things responsible—fungus and pesticides and acid rain.

            When I heard this, I cried “What!?” so loudly that an adult African bullfrog fell from my lips and I had to catch it. It weighed as much as a small cat. I took it to the pet store and spun them a lie in writing about my cousin going off to college and leaving the frog behind.

            I brooded about frogs for weeks after that, and then eventually, I decided to do something about it.

            I cannot fix the things that kill them. It would take an army of fairy godmothers, and mine retired long ago. Now she goes on long cruises and spreads her wings out across the deck chairs.

            But I can make more.

            I had to get a field guide at first. It was a long process. Say a word and catch it, check the field marks. Most words turn to bronze frogs if I am not paying attention.

            Poison arrow frogs make my lips go numb. I can only do a few of those a day. I go through a lot of chapstick.  

            It is a holding action I am fighting, nothing more. I go to vernal pools and whisper sonnets that turn into wood frogs. I say the words squeak and squill and spring peepers skitter away into the trees. They begin singing almost the moment they emerge.

            I read long legal documents to a growing audience of Fowler’s toads, who blink their goggling eyes up at me. (I wish I could do salamanders. I would read Clive Barker novels aloud and seed the streams with efts and hellbenders. I would fly to Mexico and read love poems in another language to restore the axolotl. Alas, it’s frogs and toads and nothing more. We make do.)

            The woods behind my house are full of singing. The neighbors either learn to love it or move away.

            My sister—the one who speaks gold and diamonds—funds my travels. She speaks less than I do, but for me and my amphibian friends, she will vomit rubies and sapphires. I am grateful.

            I am practicing reading modernist revolutionary poetry aloud. My accent is atrocious. Still, a day will come when the Panamanian golden frog will tumble from my lips, and I will catch it and hold it, and whatever word I spoke, I’ll say again and again, until I stand at the center of a sea of yellow skins, and make from my curse at last a cloth of gold.

Terri Windling posted recently about the old fairy tale of frogs falling from a girl’s lips, and I started thinking about what I’d do if that happened to me, and…well…

The median artery is an artery that is occasionally found in humans and other animals. [1] It is present in 35% of individuals born in the late 20th century. [2]

occasionally I'm reminded that biology just sucks to think about

I’m off to the woods ! It’s been too long, I need to sit in a creek and forget some things.

fat bodies, fat anatomy, and how body fat tends to work should be taught as standardly as skinny anatomy and how muscles work in art courses. fat bodies are not an outlier. fat bodies are not a minority and theyre not abnormal or wrong. fat bodies are normal and they belong in art teaching spaces as commonly as other anatomy, because fat bodies ARE normal anatomy. people have diverse bodies and there will never be a single body type that encompasses the "normal body type"

tldr; fat anatomy should be taught as a staple in art courses just like any other anatomy. this is fact <3