'cause creepin's just my way

I post art n' stuff
I like tree houses and foxes

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Reblogged from lohrien

lohrien:

Illustrations by Nicolas Jolly dA l shop

Reblogged from ollivander

EVERY TIME I WHISTLE HE MAKES THIS FUCKIGN FACE OH MY GOD HLEP;

(Source: ollivander, via emilygt)

Reblogged from whoreofwar

(Source: whoreofwar, via tiffanybozic)

Reblogged from lohrien

lohrien:

Illustrations by Russ Mills website l tumblr

Reblogged from valeriechua

valeriechua:

Here’s something I worked on a few days ago. This piece is more of a learning process for me. Each section is trial and error and I had to redraw and repaint on some parts a couple of times while I was progressing—so many awkward parts and they still look awkward. Haha… I painted on a semi hot press paper so some things that I normally do on cold press can’t be done properly here but that’s okay. A little challenge is good! Not sure if it’s done or if I already overdid some parts to its disadvantage but I want to move on to the next.

Reblogged from girlswhokeepgoldfish
Reblogged from 4gifs
artist-refs:

4gifs:

Waterbears can go without food or water for more than a decade. They can survive temperatures from zero to above the boiling point of water, pressure six times stronger than the deepest ocean trench, radiation hundreds of times higher than the fatal dose for a human, and the vacuum of space.

artist-refs:

4gifs:

Waterbears can go without food or water for more than a decade. They can survive temperatures from zero to above the boiling point of water, pressure six times stronger than the deepest ocean trench, radiation hundreds of times higher than the fatal dose for a human, and the vacuum of space.



(Source: ForGIFs.com)

Reblogged from catbattles

ellenrumel:

catbattles:

queen-of-snarks:

catbattles:

timeisnothingiloveyou:

catbattles:

fuckit-theresnotenoughtime:

catbattles:

meiru-chan:

catbattles:

There are many familiar faces in this trailer for the Add the Words documentary in the making, covering the fight to add the words "sexual orientation and gender identity" to Idaho’s human rights act. I can’t help but cry every time I watch it. 

Nicole’s face. How she flinches every time he says the word violent. The cop listening silently. The protest signs, the tears, the flat palms on mouths.

If this doesn’t spread around Tumblr like wildfire I will be very, very disappointed in you.

Every single one of you need to share this! This is an important subject in my state that needs to be spread like wildfire. Please help!

YES. MAKE IT VIRAL. C’MON. WE CAN DO THIS.

National attention is what’s going to make a difference. Share this as much as you can.

I can’t watch this without tears. This is my home state, where I grew up. 

Every time I watch it I cry.

Every time I watch this I break down in tears. This is my home state, this is my home. I love my state and I love the city of Boise but it pains me to see that our state doesn’t want to give everyone equal rights. Please please please repost/share. Please add the words.

These testimonies are amazing. Please reblog and tell Idaho to Add the Words.

You know what I just noticed? The angry man in the first part of the video talks about punching her in the face and he says “If I punched you in the face you wouldn’t stand there and take that. But a fist somewhere else is just fine, huh?” Holy shit. Someone with that much hate and anger radiating through them, while implying that you enjoying a sexual act adds a whole new level of terrifying to this thing. I feel sick.

Yeah, it’s incredible. I couldn’t believe how much hate he was expelling at Nicole. And he can’t even fathom how hypocritical he is in that moment, curling his fist over her face and condemning her for violence.

Reblogging for commentary. Please watch this if you haven’t seen it yet

(via thosesapphiresmiles)

Reblogged from jadafitch
jadafitch:

Continuation of my “Recently Extinct Birds of North America Series”.  Watercolor sketches and acrylic on panel works in progress.  

jadafitch:

Continuation of my “Recently Extinct Birds of North America Series”.  Watercolor sketches and acrylic on panel works in progress.  

Reblogged from lohrien

lohrien:

Paintings by Lindsey Kustusch

(via ravensbeak)

Reblogged from elferinge

When I was seventeen and preparing to leave for university, my mother’s only brother saw fit to give me some advice.
“Just don’t be an idiot, kid,” he told me, “and don’t ever forget that boys and girls can never just be friends.”
I laughed and answered, “I’m not too worried. And I don’t really think all guys are like that.”

When I was eighteen and the third annual advent of the common cold was rolling through residence like a pestilent fog, a friend texted me asking if there was anything he could do to help.
I told him that if he could bring me up some vitamin water that would be great, if it wasn’t too much trouble.
That semester I learned that human skin cells replace themselves every three to five weeks. I hoped that in a month, maybe I’d stop feeling the echoes of his touch; maybe my new skin would feel cleaner.
It didn’t. But I stood by what I said. Not all guys are like that.

When I was nineteen and my roommate decided the only way to celebrate the end of midterms was to get wasted at a club, I humoured her.
Four drinks, countless leers and five hands up my skirt later, I informed her I was ready to leave.
“I get why you’re upset,” she told me on the walk home, “but you have to tolerate that sort of thing if you want to have any fun. And really, not all guys are like that.”

(Age nineteen also saw me propositioned for casual sex by no fewer than three different male friends, and while I still believe that guys and girls can indeed be just friends, I was beginning to see my uncle’s point.)

When I was twenty and a stranger that started chatting to me in my usual cafe asked if he could walk with me (since we were going the same way and all), I accepted.
Before we’d even made it three blocks he was pulling me into an alleyway and trying to put his hands up my shirt. “You were staring,” he laughed when I asked what the fuck he was doing (I wasn’t), “I’m just taking pity.”
But not all guys are like that.

I am twenty one and a few days ago a friend and I were walking down the street. A car drove by with the windows down, and a young man stuck his head out and whistled as they passed. I ignored it, carrying on with the conversation.
My friend did not. “Did you know those people?” He asked.
“Not at all,” I answered.
Later when we sat down to eat he got this thoughtful look on his face. When I asked what was wrong he said, “You know not all guys do that kind of thing, right? We’re not all like that.”
As if he were imparting some great profound truth I’d never realized before. My entire life has been turned around, because now I’ve been enlightened: not all guys are like that.

No. Not all guys are. But enough are. Enough that I am uncomfortable when a man sits next to me on the bus. Enough that I will cross to the other side of the street if I see a pack of guys coming my way. Enough that even fleeting eye contact with a male stranger makes my insides crawl with unease. Enough that I cannot feel safe alone in a room with some of my male friends, even ones I’ve known for years. Enough that when I go out past dark for chips or milk or toilet paper, I carry a knife, I wear a coat that obscures my figure, I mimic a man’s gait. Enough that three years later I keep the story of that day to myself, when the only thing that saved me from being raped was a right hook to the jaw and a threat to scream in a crowded dorm, because I know what the response will be.

I live my life with the everburning anxiety that someone is going to put their hands on me regardless of my feelings on the matter, and I’m not going to be able to stop them. I live with the knowledge that statistically one in three women have experienced a sexual assault, but even a number like that can’t be trusted when we are harassed into silence. I live with the learned instinct, the ingrained compulsion to keep my mouth shut to jeers and catcalls, to swallow my anger at lewd suggestions and crude gestures, to put up my walls against insults and threats. I live in an environment that necessitates armouring myself against it just to get through a day peacefully, and I now view that as normal. I have adapted to extreme circumstances and am told to treat it as baseline. I carry this fear close to my heart, rooted into my bones, and I do so to keep myself unharmed.

So you can tell me that not all guys are like that, and you’d even be right, but that isn’t the issue anymore. My problem is not that I’m unaware of the fact that some guys are perfectly civil, decent, kind—my problem is simply this:

In a world where this cynical overcaution is the only thing that ensures my safety, I’m no longer willing to take the risk.

r.d. (via vonmoire)

(Source: elferinge, via mandytsung)

John Singer Sargent master copy. 
Haven’t really figured out how to take pictures of these without a massive glare. Ugh.

John Singer Sargent master copy.
Haven’t really figured out how to take pictures of these without a massive glare. Ugh.

Reblogged from littlelimpstiff14u2

hifructosemag:

littlelimpstiff14u2:

Jewelry made from coins by Stacey Lee Webber

Philadelphia based artist Stacey Lee Webber uses pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters as building blocks to construct jewelry. Her work is currently being shown at the “The American Made Show” in Philadelphia through February 21, 2014.

http://www.madeinslant.com/

Impressive Coin jewelry