Sunday, April 20, 2014

blakkensoul:

13 and 18. Another 413 art.

Those kids and how they became gods.

(Source: sydneyprosser)

cheekrub:

Bunny Pokémon

Happy Easter!

roachpatrol:

pleatedjeans:

apparently, you can name a bird if you adopt it. [x]

Lee Dixon is the hero we deserve

roachpatrol:

pleatedjeans:

apparently, you can name a bird if you adopt it. [x]

Lee Dixon is the hero we deserve

thekatitube:

DOES ANYONE ELSE GET LIKE REALLY HAPPY WHEN SOMEONE LEANS THEIR HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDER AND YOURE LIKE FUCK YEAH IVE BEEN CHOSEN AND YOU FEEL REALLY SPECIAL BUT THEN YOU HAVE TO STAY SO FUCKIBG STILL COS IF YOU MOVE THEYLL STOP LEANING ON YOU AND ITS LIKE NO COME BACK IM SORRRRYUWYY

blinkpopshift:

takingastrollaroundtheworld:

blinkpopshift:

I am a mechanism. A going thing.

Yeah I really don’t understand the point of this

On the ‘point’ of art and the crutch of not ‘getting it’:

Understand is not the right word for what visual culture asks of you.

You can study art. You can notice the accomplishment of rotating flat disks in perspective, the choice of discolored skin, or the attempt at the illusion of dimension. You can go outside the image and read about the emoji quality of hand gestures, the history and use of the gif format, the various and evolving exploitations of Tumblrs layout and the two-way street of influence between art and its context.

You can do all of that… but that’s not 'the point'

Art is not simply an inefficient vehicle for language based information transfer. Its not a subliminal message where if you stare long enough you will suddenly be struck fully formed sentences.

"That which we call humans, that which we are arises from stochastic mechanization. That atom to limb we are made and function by repetitive simplicity at high speed and deafening quantity.” 

I make things to get to know myself and the idea soup in which I float. Then I share the outcome with others. Perhaps they will recognize, steal, love, reuse the ingredients of my work much like I have recognized, stolen, loved, reused ingredients from others. 

If it helps I give you permission not to understand my work, its not important anyway, the point is just to see, literally. I mean it is an optical illusion after all… it kinda requires functioning eyes… or at least photo receptors, or perhaps a well dressed hippo to whisper poetry about it into your ear. You know whatever works. 

(Source: mykeowns)

color-division:

Is like one of my Hannigram fics"  you whispered as you watched Su-zakana, no, wait! this show IS a Hannigram fic

dangerhamster:

Rubeus Remus Potter. You were named after the only two people at Hogwarts who seemed to give shit about me, because come on who else would I name you after? A verbally abusive dickbag who was in love with my mum and gave me shit all my life and someone who convinced a bunch of children that they needed to be soldiers? What kind of awful aspirations would that make you end up having? Come on son I’m not an idiot…