Studying
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4116 creative works found
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I know RedBubble prefers JPEG… but… I tend to work in Flash, which means exporting out as PNG – you can do it as JPEG, but I like having that transparency, which just gives me another option when editing in Photoshop – backgrounds and such. I wanted to see how a ‘straight’ PNG looked like. So, Pink Study is two things – lineart with gray and colour with gray mixed into it. I was looking at cel-shading. Lines are so rough and tumble that they almost failed to look good… but they pulled through… yay…
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Too busy to go out with the camera
by Michael CuneoWell, I started Open Foundation at University the other month, and it’s great, it’s the third time I’ve actually attempted it but this ti…
Well, I started Open Foundation at University the other month, and it’s great, it’s the third time I’ve actually attempted it but this time there has been no excuse for me to leave early, and I’m really loving Sociology. Just put together a CD of random bits and pieces to send off to some people who would like to use my music for something quite useful, which is a bonus. I’ve put about 14 years into my music and it’s good to see that it will be used for something really soon. I just recently started looking around and commenting again on red bubble while on my Uni break, but I’ve got 6 days of work coming starting tomorrow, and looking after my little man, and a 48 page workbook to complete and a lot of revising of Math work that I keep forgetting about, before Wednesday next week. So I’ll catch you all next week. Or maybe in a fortnight after Uni is finished and I celebrate with many beers.
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reference used with permission from http://bodystocks.deviantart.com/art/Stock-Pose-5-52250275
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Reference used: http://mffugabriel-stock.deviantart.com/art/Bathroom-Stock-05-36400610 by http://mffugabriel-stock.deviantart.com/ / Time: 3-4 hours
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HECK YES!!
by makingaliI got into the graphic design course I wanted to study for next year.. / and pretty darn happy about it too. / A few years of sitting in fr…
I got into the graphic design course I wanted to study for next year.. / and pretty darn happy about it too. / A few years of sitting in front of a computer… its not like i dont do that anyway now… and im pretty stoked to do it too. / Ill try my hardest to post up my work as I go, critiquing will be needed and much appreciated!! / Cheers, / Ali
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Wes Studi played the part of Geronimo. He is from Tahlequah, Oklahoma and has been in several movies. He is the one in the dark suit. I added my portrait of him on top of the article and scanned it to my computer. The smaller paintin, by the way, was painted from a small black and white newspaper photo about 2 inches by 4 inches. Enjoy…
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pen and ink
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Digital Pastel and Conte Chalk sticks over Charcoal Paper
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Digital Pen and ink study of a pear over waterolor paper
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The main character from Maria V. Snyder’s Poison Study series.
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... open your mind… ALL my works of art are mostley done intuitively; I am affected and inspired by music; no painting is done without music; music is inalienable. see my profile.. this was inspired by / done with ChaosPro. was featured in Art in Math 27.8.2009 / was featured in First Things 27.8.2009 / was featured in A Fractal Energy Passion 09/2009 / was featured in German Artists 12.10.2009
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Charcoal, chalk, pastel on Wallis paper
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Opportunist Iphone pic of a gentleman studying Black Panther posters at an exhibition in the Urbis Centre in Manchester, England.
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I just love trees and wood as you can probably tell by looking at my art…The knoll in this tree reminds me of the painting ‘The Scream’. it almost looks like a hood. I have given it a more dramatic feel and highlighted the amazing textures and features on the surface of the trunk….
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Travelling with Brecht
by Tracey Walker‘The old days are over and this is a new time…Everything is in motion, my friend.’ Bartold Brecht –The Life of Galileo Time doesn’t wa…
‘The old days are over and this is a new time…Everything is in motion, my friend.’ Bartold Brecht –The Life of Galileo Time doesn’t wait for anyone. It isn’t always kind. Our tastes and features are always shifting, along with our perceptions and circumstances. Like everyone, I find comfort in reading analyses that resonate with my own. My pleasures have moved on from the limitations of Romanticism and can be located amidst a slightly later period. I must admit, I am grateful for entering the philosophical fragmentation of twentieth century literature. At the moment, Bartold Brecht in particular has struck a cord. I thank the Heavens for The Life of Galileo. Are you ready for some philosophical self-indulgence? If not, better to stop reading now. “It is well known how beneficially people can be influenced by the conviction that they are poised on the threshold of a new age. At such a moment their environment appears to be still entirely unfinished, capable of the happiest improvements of possibilities. Glorious is the feeling of beginning, of pioneering; the fact of being a beginner inspires enthusiasm.” Before going to university, I was pretty happy with life. I lived in a beautiful flat in central Geneva, I earned enough to live very comfortably, to travel, to live the good life and even have the odd bottle of Champagne. I had good friends, made memories, laughed, made fun of Swiss conservatism, enjoyed the mountains and delved into spirituality. There was something niggling in my mind, however. I craved the stimulation of academic learning. I decided to give it all up, to embrace the university experience. As I said goodbye to what I had known for two years, a two-year-old child clutched on, crying, trying to resist the loss of an emblem of security. Life moved forwards. At first the contrast was difficult to swallow. From period charm to council estate, champagne to cartoned wine, busyness to blank. A blank slate to write upon. I didn’t want to write a new future. I wanted my old life back. Why did I think this would be so much better? I had to work hard for three years, get through this and move abroad again, where I belonged. Once lectures started, I discovered my inner nerd. It only took a few student nights to realise my place was in the library, not shivering in the queue to a club. I slept late, made friends with other ‘mature’ students, spent a lot of time in the coffee shop, relaxed in the library. I was laughing. My main irritation was being paired up with some hung-over fresher in a seminar. One who hadn’t attended a lecture in a while. Relatively, however, I felt like an achiever. I became attached to this identity. I began devouring books, made love to them. Theory, language, literature, feminism… I flourished, along with my ideals. I pictured myself as an academic, a writer, an individual with intellect. I had something to offer. Academia had something to offer me. “This feeling comes to the researcher who makes a discovery that will change everything, to the orator who prepares a speech that will create an entirely new situation. Terrible is the disappointment when men discover, or think they discover, that they have fallen victims to an illusion, that the old is stranger than the new, that the ‘facts’ are against them and not for them, that their age – the new age – has not yet arrived. Things are not merely as bad as before, but much worse, because people have made immense sacrifices for their schemes and have lost everything. They have ventured and are now defeated; the old is taking revenge on them.” I walked across the stage and held my degree in my hand. A first class honours. As soon as my source of pride touched my hand, the sand started slipping through my fingers. Gravity lured it to the ground. Among the grains of sand tears fell. They fell for months. I worked, but my heart was not there. I could not surrender to subservience after being so challenged, so free, so passionate. I craved some figure of stability. I no longer recognised myself in my friends. Everything was slipping away. Are these not the signs of grief? Madness? Would I not be better grieving for the recent death of my friend? No! That remains a purely intellectual matter. At the first warning of a shocked tear, one stands up straight, tries to conjure up some joyful yet meaningful memory. Unfortunately that Christmas card or long distance letter is nowhere to be found, possibly tossed aside when I imagined there would be many more to come. Still, my now dead friend was with me at this hard time. Not physically. She was in Australia, so that was not possible. But I poured my heart out thanks to the technological advances of the Internet! Still, Sarah was a traditional soul. She promised to send me some Christmas cheer in the post. And it arrived, just before I moved on. “Exertion is followed by exhaustion, possibly exaggerated hope by possibly exaggerated hopelessness. Those who do not relapse into indifference and apathy fall into worse; those who have not sacrificed their energies for their ideals now turn those selfsame energies against the ideals.” I tried to be practical and searched for advice. I had lost my way and recognised the goodwill in the words offered to me. “Look for a graduate job, don’t go chasing unrealistic dreams, undergraduate studies is the time for indulging in your interests, real life is different.” But why strive for something that can only offer a comfortable old age? I might not make it that far. Many don’t. Besides, my mind has been challenged. It has moved forward. The Earth cannot travel through scientific, philosophical Aquarius and then reverse back to practical yet cautious Capricorn. It must go full-circle. It is destined to explore every aspect of its journey. It could be advisable, however, to take out a telescope now and then to witness the process firsthand, so as not to feel completely lost among the stars. While I have not cried the death of my friend, I am not unmoved. Nobody is stationary. If I blubbered and blurted out self-pitying, though comforting words of tragedy, I would possibly hear the humorous yet compassionate Melbourne echo: ‘Oh come on, chin up. What are you waiting for? Crack open the bottle of red, wench.’ So here we have it. Not immobile, not yet completely frozen, glass of red wine in hand, and sending out good old fashioned Christmas greetings, as my loving friend always did. Time keeps moving.
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