A Terminal Case of the Wantsies

I’ve stumbled across an online community of women (mostly) who alter those Precious Moments figures

And I’m obsessed

I love everything about it

God I’m glad this is getting notes because there’s been an important update:

Turtle lock its a turtle lock y'all!

This is a magic item of some kind

turn up that fucking hurdy gurdy

The National Park Service has released crochet/knit patterns! The triops is my favorite.

Here's their Ravelry:

But wait there's more if Ravelry isn't your thing:

Art by Lily Seika Jones

imagine if doorways grew back like scabbed over with fresh drywall and you had to keep carving them back out with a jabsaw to keep the doorway clear etc

Imagine if the membranes recoiled in pain every time you did this. Imagine if over time, some doorways became accustomed sensation. Imagine that very rarely, some even seemed to enjoy it.

*sleepover host voice* imagine if you two went to sleep

Oh for gods sake kids it’s like piercing an ear - that’s why you put a doorframe in - you don’t hang a door in drywall, you gremlins. You frame the door. It’s like those gauges that people put in their ears - the hole stays. It won’t scab over with a doorframe in it. You’ve lived around doors you whole life, you little clowns. Lights out

Everyone go read “the saint of bright doors” hope this helps

I would watch the hell out of this

curious how the breakdown is considering its something ive always been open to but i know some people would never do ever

I actually posed naked for a sculpture project where the artist paper-mached my whole body but never did anything more with the casts because the whole thing had been a ploy to get me into the sack, which I was too oblivious to catch on to. I was so focused on not making it weird I didn’t realize they wanted to make it weird

I used to model for art classes when I was in undergrad and here are the things I remember:

Every time, learning about sweat glands I had never known existed until I felt a rivulet of sweat making its way down and could do nothing about it.

That feeling of somehow being simultaneously cold because you're naked in a big open room and being uncomfortably hot because they have you under lights and space heaters like a rotisserie chicken.

I usually did Life Drawing classes and those were great - a series of one-minute gesture poses where I could get creative and weird, some mid-length poses, and then some nice, physically unchallenging poses for longer stretches. And they gave me pillows and everything.

One time I did an oil painting class and I would never fucking do that again because 1) it was the same pose for three hours at a time (with a short break halfway through), twice a week for six weeks and 2) the fucking professor chose the pose for me and had me standing up with one of my arms outstretched on a chair and a fucking twist in my spine and let me tell you it was AGONY.

On the other hand, there was also a skeleton in the scene so that was cool.

Where I was positioned, the student who was in my line of sight was....not very good and missed all but three of the sessions, so I got to spend the whole time staring through a backlit canvas where I had been painted as a pink blob. I took a photo of this painting and I still keep it in pride of place on my fridge.

On the other hand, I made friends with one of the more talented artists in the class and she ended up gifting me the painting she did so now my 19-year-old butt has been preserved for all eternity and is being stored somewhere at my mother's house until such time as I live close enough to take it.

That same friend once told me that they had a male model the previous semester who was in a constant state of getting and losing an erection, such that every time she looked up from her painting his penis would be in a different position. I think of this whenever I see those waving-arms inflatable car dealership guys.

The very last time I did any art modeling, it was on a Friday in the summer in Newburyport and I locked my keys in my car and had to call AAA and then on the way home I ended up heading north on 95 on a Friday afternoon and it took me TWO HOURS to go a quarter of a mile (on a trip that usually took an hour tops).

Actually no, that wasn't the last time - I remember doing it once when I went to Ireland for grad school and the vibes were off and I never did it again. In those days though we wouldn't have talked about 'the vibes' so I was probably just 'skeeved out' instead.

"Tea Time" by Canadian artist Lily Seika Jones. Watercolor.

fellas, if your gf:

that's not your gf, that's the homestar runner main page

Sarah Williams hair appreciation in Labyrinth

I walked up to a restaurant entrance at the same time as this guy and he held the first door for me and then I held the second door for him and he said "we call that the Midwestern two-step" with a laugh and I've been thinking about it all day.

Raccoon bonfire T-shirt by Critterbutts

Mushroom Mugs // Katie did Fine Arts