Scribblings

♥ my galaxynote

Tags: Blog, galaxynote, scribblings

“I was bored before l even began”*

Blogs like ours are designed with the simple task of finding things that are interesting to us as bloggers and sharing them in the hope you’ll enjoy them too. Some of the content is ours some of it we source but first and last its entertainment - albeit of a more subtle kind- in the purest sense of the word. And what l’m about to say makes that no less true. Just kind of want to get real every now and again and say how things are… And that munchkins, is fucking dull.

IM SO FUCKING BORED RIGHT NOW. Like l don’t recall ever feeling this before in my life. Fustrated? Yes. Suicidal… hmmmm, no, but despairing absolutely. Heartbroken? Irrepairable damage l’d say, but this kind of gently grating boredom might yet be one of the toughest things l’ve encountered. It is essentially a complete lack of wonderment or unpredictability in one’s life. If it sounds like a juvenile complaint, like lm some firstworld brat fastened in my safety seat in the back of my parents’ car with my felt pens and colouring book on the floor, bawling cos l’ve nothing to play with, then perhaps you’re right. But what would be a truer analogy is looking out the car window and seeing a world of limitless opportunity, a cataclysm of mayhem and mystery whizzing by at a thousand miles a second, yet l remained fastened in, a mere spectator to it all. Its the guilt of squandering the kind of opportunities** that millions would kill for that l feel it so acutely the sensation is almost physical.

Not boring #1: Tanadori Yokoo (1966)

Admittedly l do live in Korea which has the potential for endlessly fascinating encounters and mishaps. But that only happens with the will of curiosity. And sometimes money. And paradoxically NOT having a job. And I have a job, no money and a bad case of the homesickness and its DARK and FREEEEEZING which equals less fascination in what l see around me in this potentially exotic, distant land and instead the suffocating effects of routine smattered with weirdness in Baltic conditions. And weirdness is not the same as wonderment. Weirdness is a conclusion brought about from finding something odd but the lack of curiosity renders it just weird and nothing more. Curiosity is what compels us. Had we stood at the foot of the mighty Sphinx of Giza and said, “Well that’s just fucking weird”, we’d be no closer to learning the riddle of the Sphinx or there even being a riddle cos the Sphinx would just be some weird sandcastle of a big cat. No curiosity. No curiosity to kill the big weird sand cat with no nose which doesnt -to be perfectly honest - even look like a fucking cat.

Not boring #2: God Is Dead (cover) Ron Currie Jr

There is no resolution to this (until Spring) And there are other factors at work here- you could rename this post, “Why Ulsan is Shit and Why Am l Not in Seoul“, ‘The Eternal Siberian Winter‘ or ‘Deafening Silence… A Life without Music,ipod, Laptop,wifi, TV‘. The biggest truth is l have to, HAVE to write something and l’ve been holding off until something exciting happended. It hasn’t. Too cold. So this be it. l hope my beautiful CLFmag bedfellows Fifi and Anna dont mind my ranting because the last thing l want to do is bring them down with me. But it feels a relief to do this- to whinge. It does little but pave the way for more whinging (or not- l feel better already) but all l can do is promise to keep it as entertaining as l know how…

Lovingly everly Sasha.

* From The Smiths/Morrissey (who appeared twice in this post) ‘Shoplifters of The World’.
** Referencing the fact that l was lucky enough to be born in a First World country where education and opportunities to pursue dreams are there for the taking and to waste that, when l think of the millions of people who never and will never have that, kills me.

(One last thing… Today is 12/12/12 which a massive deal (or not) so l declare this post my revelation and promise to be honest & grateful foreverandeveramen.)

Tags: Blog, bored, Korea, Morrissey, The Smiths

Addicted: exesandhoes.com

Top: Q-Tip & Janet Jackson
Middle: Carly Simon & James Taylor
Bottom: Mia Farrow and Frank Sinatra

Tags: Blog, exesandhoes

Film Review: Prometheus

So l recognise that Prometheus is not a natural choice for a write -up given that its neither new nor retro, just kind of pottering around that post-dvd no-man’s-land but anyhoo l saw it again last night it feels all fresh and relevent and if it is to me, it is you too (l decided that).

The film, for all intents and purposes, is a rather confusing voyage to a time pre-dating the epic and genre-defining Alien (1979). Its a story set aboard a space vessel journeying its way to Button Moon to follow Mr Spoon who is our great creator or something. Aboard the jolly vessel are Charlize Theron and Guy Pearce whose kryogenic chamber was just filled with water and looks like hes been in the bath about 80 years too long, and some other people doing and saying stuff. But most engimatic of them all is Micheal Fassbender as synthetic human crew member, ‘David’. The film plods along nicely, tripping in the occasional landfill size plot-hole, but that’s all by the by when you realise you’re not actually that bothered by all the unnecessary ‘twists’ excetera because you’re too preoccupied with thoughts of sexing the devastatingly cool, calm but essentially battery-run ‘David’. This brings about a multiple-choice style crisis of conscience centring around what is getting you off exactly.Is it-

(a) Fictional ‘David’- because he’s a robot
(b) Human Micheal Fassbender- because he’s acting like a robot
(c) Human Micheal Fassbender - because hes ‘doing the robot’
(d) Fictional ‘David’ looking like human Micheal Fassbender acting like a robot

Great a sex and chess. Horrible at footwear choices.

Obviously its not (c) because theres no dancing in Prometheus [more's the pity] but there’s definate flirtation with the idea of love and sex with robots. Which is fair dues given its inevitability; their destined-to-be-prehistoric counterparts already live among us (in Japan, keeping old people company apparently). But rather than looking like a Dyson in a wig, those future-bots will - like David- be implausibly realistic and constructed with the express intention of getting us all excited. Its a lot to get your head and your ‘youknowwhat’ around [literally], or perhaps not if youre a man; there’s little dispute of whether they’d be willing participants in a rubbery tryst having been inserting themselves into inanimate objects since time immemorial, there’s little if any question of them screwing Mizz ‘Bot when it’s feasible they’d fuck the bubblewrap she arrived in. But the idea of women being attracted to humanoids is a largely unexplored and tabboo area. (Just wait for the ‘50 Shades’ style erotica about some pile of wet blamange getting electrocuted to the point of orgasm by her short-fused control-freak(y)-bot.) But for the rest of us normaloids, how do you make peace with being attracted to something whose evolutionary trail leads back to washing-up bottles and toilet-roll holders? Would l be willing to- lets face it- be penetrated by a robot? Cos that’s the ugly truth right there- except not so ugly cos its a Micheal Fassbender-looking truth which is what caused this problem in the first place. If he didnt make such a f**kable robot l’d be doing something more constructive with my life than going around asking friends if theyd make it with the Fassbender3.0 to which one mate came with the very considered reply, “Yes…. as long as he’s not a toaster.”

Joanna Everhart in ‘The Stepford Wives’. Clearly pre-programming.

There is an altogether more sinister side to synthetic allure however. Take 70’s classic film The Stepford Wives based on the 60’s Ira Levin novel whose message was so poignant, the term ‘Stepford Wife’ became part of modern lexicon referring to females who are so submissive, so perfect, so unobjectional to their menfolk they are obviously programmed that way (hint -like robots). I’ll not spoil the film any further for those who’ve yet to see it, but its worth considering the likelihood of synthetic company becoming preferrable to human females with our bloating and mouths that nag rather than give round-the-clock BJs, especially when the [non disputable] reality of ever frisky sexbots (who’ll be programmed that way) inches ever closer. Check this out (via) ” A 2012 report from Victoria University of Wellington, New Zeland, predicts red light districts by 2050 and claims this wpuld cutbdown on sex slavery and infections. And what do they call these prostitute robots? Hoe-bots. Meanwhile, a US profucer of cutting edge sexbots, Douglas Hines, has produced Roxxxy who can do pelvic thrusts and even simulate an orgasm. Ofcourse to some degree, all robot orgasms are simulated. Which would at least remove any uncertainty;
‘Were you faking?’
‘Yes, I am a robot.’”

So, like, yeah. Prometheus: ★★★☆☆

Tags: Blog, film review, prometheus

Pictors…

* See that pretty bit of Korean script? I wrote that /copieditfromanattendancesheet.

Tags: Blog, Korea

‘Fishing’ by A.A.Gill

…The galley is the only place to sit. It’s so cramped, if you put a stamp on it you could post it home. There are five of us on board now, but only four of us can sit at a time, which is okay because someone needs to drive and watch for tankers. There’s a filthy stove and a little sink with a plastic bowl full of slopping, turgid, lumpy water. This is the only tap on the ship. There’s no shower and no water you’d want to drink without boiling. They drink only tea, coffee and Tesco’s cola. There are five mugs that are never washed and when you see the state of the teatowel you’re grateful. We sleep in the bowels of the boat, a dark dungeon up the sharp end with pods in the walls like Davey Jones’s catacomb. The human part of this ship is made as small and claustrophobic as possible. The greatest part of it is given over to the fish, to the catch. To the cash. The engine rumbles and caws constantly, without cease.

There is a bin, a small bucket that’s emptied over the side, and a lavatory without a seat that would be impossible to sit on because its jammed sideways into a cupboard with a broken porthole. The thought of maybe having to sit on it - or, worse, kneel in front of it in the humping swell - is too awful to contemplate. Overall, l’d have to say that this is the most aasertively filthy environment l’ve been in since l was a student. This boat is a Norman Wisdom assault course of pratfalls, whacked heads, lost fingers, rope burn, slicing steel, crunching blocks and grinding gears, or just simply and silently tripping and disappearing overboard.

Tags: A.A.Gill, Blog, fishing, journalism

25/11

Tags: Blog, Busan, Korea

Korea #2

Back in Busan!!!

“They all float down here”

The death of reason

Salutations from Korea!!

being back in Korea was much easier a transition and glad to be back but already have the growing sense of restlessness thats gonna make these next 6 months a toughie. Buddah said, “the trouble is you think you have time”. I don’t think that for a second.

Tags: Blog, Korea

Looking down, up & inside…

Tags: Blog, instagram

‘We Didn’t’ by Stuart Dybek

We didn’t in the light; we didn’t in the darkness. We didn’t in the fresh cut summer grass or in the mounds of autumn leaves or on the snow where the moon-light threw down our shadows. We didn’t in your room in the canopy bed you slept in as a child, or on the back-seat of my father’s rusted Rambler, which smelled of the smoked chubs or kielbasa he delivered on weekends from my uncle Vincent’s meat market. We didn’t in your mother’s Buick Eight, where the rosemary twined the rear-view mirror like a beaded, black snake like sliver cruciform fangs.

At the dead-end of our lovers lane – a side street of abandoned factories – where I perfected the pitch that springs open a bra; behind the lilac bushes in Marquette Park, where you first touched me though my jeans; in the balcony of the now defunct Clark Theatre, where I wiped popcorn salt from my palms and slid them up your thighs and you whispered, “I feel like Doris Day is watching us,” we didn’t.

Tags: Blog, Stuart Dybek, we didn't

On The Road…

They rushed down the street together, digging everything in the early way they had, which later became so much sadder and perceptive and blank. But then they danced down the street like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I’ve been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes ‘Awww!’

Tags: Blog, Jack Kerouac, on the road

The Beach by Alex Garland

Revisiting my literary muse. Taken from [what is for me] the sharpest, darkest and funniest section of the novel*; post shark attack on the three Swedes; the point which perfectly demonstrates to what extent Richard’s (protagonist) precarious grip on reality is slipping away.
* The Beach is the story of a young backpacker travelling through South East Aisa, who after being given a secret map becomes part of a hidden beach community. Think a druggier more paranoid version of Lord of the Flies.

The stunned quiet after Karl said “shark” only lasted a heartbeat. Then we all
started jabbering again as abruptly as we’d all shut up. A circle quickly
formed around Karl and Sten — the same kind of circle you get in a schoolyard
fight, jostling for position whilst keeping a safe distance — and
suggestions started flying thick and fast. It was a crisis after all. Whatever
else a crisis causes, it causes a buzz, so everyone wanted to be in on the act.
Étienne and Keaty, tending to Sten and Karl respectively, were instructed,
“He needs water!” and “Put him in the recovery position!” and “Hold his
nose!”

“Hold His Nose” was directed at Étienne — said by one of the Yugo girls —
because you have to hold the victim’s nose while giving mouth-to-mouth to
stop the air from escaping. I thought it was a stupid thing to say. You could
see the air bubbling out of the hole in Sten’s side so his lungs were obviously
fucked, and anyway, you couldn’t imagine anyone looking more dead. His
eyes were open but showing the whites, he was as limp as rags, and there
was no blood coming out of his wounds. In fact, just about all the advice was
stupid. Karl could hardly be put in the recovery position while he was
jerking around and screaming, and I didn’t have a clue what use he’d have
for water. Morphine yes, water no. But in emergencies people often seem to
call for water, so I assumed it was said in that spirit. The only person talking
sense was Sal, who was yelling at everyone to get back and shut up. No one
took any notice though. Her role as leader had been temporarily suspended,
so her good suggestions were about as useful as the bad ones.

The whole scene left me feeling flustered. I was telling myself, “Alert but
calm,” and waiting for my head to come up with the kind of suggestion that
was needed. Something that would cut through the chaos, creating a stern
efficiency that was appropriate to the gravity of the situation. Specifically,
something like the way Étienne had acted on the plateau. With that in mind,
I considered pushing my way through to Sten and saying, “Leave him,
Étienne. He’s dead.” But I couldn’t shake the idea that it would sound like a
line from a bad movie, and I wanted a line from a good movie.Instead I
pushed my way backwards through the crowd, which was easy as most
people were trying to get closer.

As soon as I was out of the circle I began thinking a great deal more
objectively. Two realizations hit me at once. Number one was that I now had
a chance to get my cigarettes. Number two was Christo. Nobody had even
mentioned the third Swede, who might have been on the beach, wounded
and waiting for help to arrive. Possibly even dead like Sten.

Tags: Alex Garland, Blog, Literature, muse, The Beach

Seoul/Busan/Deagu 05′12

Tags: Blog, Busan, Daegu, seoul

Apparently…

… it is something to do with the pressure of countless unknown dimensions (beyond the regular three) and string vibrations that make the conditions possible for us to be here.

We are the result of those conditions.

Tags: Blog, Conscience, flight, multiverse

Adam Yauch [1964 - 2012]

via animalnewyork “Adam Yauch, founding and gruffest-voiced member of the Beastie Boys is dead at 47. Yauch had being going through cancer treatment since 2009 after being diagnosed with a tumor in his salivary gland and did not attend the Beastie Boys’ induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in April, and yet, the news is blind-siding. Aside from his iconic influence on hip hop, Yauch had also co-organized the Tibetan Freedom Concerts in the ’90s and in 2002, launched one of the last and best independent film production/distribution companies, Oscilloscope Laboratories.”

[For me] this is THE quintessential Beastie track because it was the one I feel in love to. They’d been out for a serious minute but it wasn’t until 1995 - the year that made me musically - that I sat up & paid serious attention. Watching Beavis & Butthead on vintage-style MTV, this dropped and blew the ceiling and my inferior mind (& to think I still have the VHS.) You know it’s love when you remember where you were the first time you heard it…
Much love to you Beastie Boys (those here & gone).

Tags: beastie boys, Blog, RIP

[01-05-12] The day that…

Tags: animals, Blog, Book, Design

My dream…

… has never been a nest; I’ve always said if someone was the offer me a car or an apartment, all rationality would be out the window and I’d choose the car. I want a car so bad. I don’t think about it too much but if I do, it prickles. I really, really want one. I’ve always wanted one. I think I’d be a good driver too because I dream that I am and I feel I appreciate the art of driving. Yes, yes, I know how this sounds, but my friend’s dad who is just amazing and phenomenal used to let me steer from the passenger seat at 80mph at night on empty motorways, stoned, and the reason I didn’t kill us is because he trusted me cos I got what driving is about; looking into the distance first and the rest becomes automatic. I want to make money because I want [an orange dodge challenger with black stripes] - there is no joy in ugly cars. I would absolutely only use my car for trips, never errands or work - I want to drive it, not shuffle it. Preserving the romance is mandatory.
My car will be a sacred place where I’m getting in cos I’m going somewhere.

Thanks May for guiding me to these pictures.

Tags: Blog, car, dream

If Carlsberg did days out…

So last week I posted some palavar about cute coffees. This week, it’s frucking dinosaurs ya’ll. Now I understand this may not be everyone’s cuppa chai but being that through my work I’ve been given the chance to live a vicarious second childhood, seeing the world’s largest preserved dinosaur footprint had me in raptures!!! So if you happen to be in Korea, the Dino EXPO is located in gorgeous, gorgeous Gosesong. It’s only open once every three years so make the most of it. I’m not saying get high or anything but doing so in a dinosaur park & seeing a bona fide dino footprint isn’t not one of the greatest experiences you could treat yourself to. It’s funny cos my friends and I here all have this thing that dying in Korea would be really depressing/embarrassing, (if you’ve been here you’ll know why) but it was unanimous that we’d be happy dying here, in a dinosaur footprint. Dunno how exactly we’d die in a footprint but it’d make a most enviable epitaph. One more thing; it’s cherry blossom season which means flowers everywhere. It’s cherry blossom season, the weather is sexual and there’s fucking DINOSAURS!!!!

1.ahhhhh.

2.Modelled on real events.

3. ahhhhh.

4.Arrrrgh!

5. I pushed aside a small child for this photo.

So I’ve worked here for 11 months a never really said much about my job… until now. I’m leaving soon and getting a touch reflective so I really have to share. I’ve been playing this for my babas for the last few months and truth is we LIVE for this. The soundtrack of my time in Korea won’t just be 2ne1, Girl’s Generation & all that shite, it will also be The Dinosaur Song.
I dare you to press play…
(1.36 gets me high)

Tags: Blog, Dinosaurs, Korea

Screw Easter…

…this is the only resurrection that matters.

Tags: 2pac, Blog, Coachella, Snoop

MIA ‘Bad Girls’ behind-the-scenes video

Tags: Blog, M.I.A., Romain Gavras

D.A.T. Movement

“Don’t like his baggy jeans but Imma like what’s underneath ‘em
And that’s the truth Ruth! Sneaky pics of the Amerikan boy & his crew taken last night; some of the most motivated ‘artistes’ I’ve seen in a while so no doubt these cats will be HUGE. Ironic cos couldn’t even be arsed to get off the bed to take frontal shots, but the from back there wasn’t so bad…
#dirtyoldperv
(sasha)

Tags: Blog, D.A.T. Movement

Isn’t she lovely… #3

Clfmag’s Fifi does 40’s chic…. just gorgeous!
(Sasha)

Tags: 40's, Blog, clfmag

Tags: Blog, quotes

Best of 2011 (from my archive)

So if you cut my brain opens it looks just like this (lie). Think I stared at some of these pics so long that looking at them again is like re-reading journal entries. Favourites -just from my side that is - posts of 2011. Odd boot placement but very necessary.
Hope ya’ll see what I see!
(sasha) xoxo

Tags: best of, Blog, clfmag, Illustration, Photography, Styleblog

Review: We Need To Talk About Kevin (Best Films of 2011)

We Need To Talk About Kevin is the film adaptation Lionel Shriver’s profoundly disturbing fictional work on the life of a teenage killer, and an exploration one of the last taboos of parenthood; what happens when you don’t like your own child?
It begins in the nightmarish aftermath of Kevin’s rampage. While he serves time in a youth facility, we meet what remains of Eva Ktachadourian (outSTANDing Tilda Swindon) ; a woman etching out the most moribund of existences. Once the model of liberal aloofness, she now lives in shadows; dodging confrontation in supermarkets, getting assaulted in the street, having her home vandalised, all the while absolutely accepting of her role as mother of a mass murderer.
“Do you know where you’re spending the afterlife?” asks a doorstep preacher.
“I’m going straight to hell”, states Eva very matter of factly.
At night her mind’s landscape looks like a fractured kaleidoscope of past events, close and distant, real and imagined – there’s barely any distinction. Numbed with wine and pills she spends hour upon torturous hour agonising over to what extent she is responsible; was Kevin born evil or did he somehow ingest her discontent with motherhood in utero. While Eva struggles with this chicken and egg style conundrum, it soon becomes clear that no amount of subtle resentment could have created something so abhorrent.
Baby Kevin cries relentlessly and will only calm down around his father (John C. Reilly). Toddler Kevin he refuses to speak or interact. As a young child he forgoes potty training and instead practices the subtle art emotional blackmail . Under the guise of a study, Eva constructs a shrine to her former charmed and independent lifestyle prior his arrival - Kevin understands this desecrates it immediately. Just another act of spite, suitably measured to keep his father blindly on-side. By being as despicable as he knows how, Kevin both corroborates and encourages Eva’s guilt,  “Just because you’re used to something doesn’t mean you like it” he challenges his mother, “you’re used to me.”
Her failure to deny this accusation of dislike could only have strengthened Kevin’s destructive resolve - demonstrations of which became more pronounced and deadly as he becomes a teenager ( played by the stunning Ezra Miller.) By this time the resentment is so entrenched that any attempt by Eva to salvage any semblance of a relationship is met with a mixture of amusement and contempt from Kevin. There is nothing in him to be salvaged.
WNTTAK is an uncomfortable and absolutely necessary examination into the minefield of parenthood via the anomalies of parental guilt and moreover, parental love; perhaps the only love that will bind descent people to intolerable ones. As Eva picks though the broken egg shell remains of her life, sifting though the could-haves the would-haves, it becomes clear there was only ever one should-have. They should have talked about Kevin, which is exactly what they failed to do.

Happy New Year y’all!  xoxo

(Sasha)

Tags: Blog, Film, review, we need to talk about kevin

Inked

Tags: Blog, tattoos

Kim Jong ‘Dear Leader, who is a perfect incarnation of the appearance that a leader should have’ il, is toast

That’s actually one of the official titles by the way. ‘It’ apparently died from “great mental and physical strain caused by [it's] uninterrupted field guidance tour for the building of a thriving nation” end of official statement. Which I kind of don’t doubt as pouring your heart into keeping your nation brainwashed domestically, ostracised internationally and starved to the brink of death (save that million who did die), for some decades, can’t be without some physical consequence? No?
Like thefirstpost said, “In his elevator shoes and bouffant hairdo, he was the wacky dictator - unless you lived in North Korea.”
(Sasha)
If you can get in in your region, please play the video below - you’ve seen nothing like it.

Tags: Blog, kim jong il, north korea, party rock, South Park, WTF

First World Problems FINALLY gets an anthem

And so it is, once again, famoso’s congregate at Christmas tyme to highlight that which blights humanity. But it seems the developing world’s near monopoloy of this event has forced some issues to become almost taboo. Like the cost of file sharing. So thank you Diddy. Thank you Chris. Thank you Kim. Not least Macy for coming out of retirement (was it?) to do this.
You see today we take a stand and we will be heard!
I will NOT pay for extra for file-sharing. I will NOT send multiple emails.
This ENDS HERE!!!
(Sorry, I’m just a bit overwhelmed right now)
(Sasha)

Mega Song from Angel Martinez on Vimeo.

Tags: Blog, WTF

back to the drawing board…

“The Dormouse fell asleep instantly, and neither of the
others took the least notice of her going, though she
looked back once or twice, half hoping that they would
call after her: the last time she saw them, they were
trying to put the Dormouse into the teapot.”

Extract: Lewis Carroll Alice In Wonderland

So remember that post last week when I said I’d like to do  ”an art a day”?
Ahahaha! (wipes tear of laughter)
Kind of forgot Dormouse’s paw too…
(Sasha)

Tags: Alice In Wonderland, Blog, Illustration

Tit 4 Tat

The Tat: happy to announce that for the first time, in a 17 year relationship with tattoos, I have finally found The One. If y’all know what I’ve been through to get this (and still going through), you’ll forgive my indulgence. Be prepared for endless posts featuring me my new tattoo together, joined at the hip (literally), insufferable, smug, cocooned in togetherness, spending Sunday afternoons in matching cashemere, discussing our matching taste in films at the our favourite after-hours coffee-arterie.

The Tit: If I can knock up at tit in 30mins, (am somewhere between liking and hating said tit), why don’t I say something like, “I hereby decree that will produce one drawing/photo/layout per day for 30 days.” . Now please note that I didn’t say that, I said I might be tempted to say something like that - if for no better reason, it’d be nice to think I’d be capable of the commitment. But then there’s the part of me that thinks, why inflict your mediocre drawings on people who come to your blog for legit artwork. Bit like building a fancy pants museum and then hanging your first year junior art project in it, innit?
Let’s see how long this lasts…

I am NOT an artist. I studied art to A-level standard and then quit before getting a qualification. I have no specific fine art qualification - I just draw things sometimes. I’m alright at copying stuff. I have neither that tolerance or the patience to be a real artist so serious kudos to those of you who manage that.
# Unfinished tit inspiration is a gift for my Grandma for Christmas, one I’ve been promising since I was about 8. I don’t like to rush these things you see…

Tags: bird, Blog, tattoos