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Life, Shit, and Teacher: votgs lady-feral "The ceramics teacher announced on opening day that he was dividing the class into two groups. All those on the left side of the studio, he said, would be graded solely on the quantity of work they produced, all those on the right solely on its quality. His procedure was simple: on the final day of class he would bring in his bathroom scales and weigh the work of the "quantity" group: 50 pounds of pots rated an "A", 40 pounds a "B", and so on Those being graded on "quality", however, needed to produce only one pot albeit a perfect one to get an "A" Well, came grading time and a curious fact emerged: the works of highest quality were all produced by the group being graded for quantity It seems that while the "quantity" group was busily churning out piles of work-and learning from their mistakes the "quality" group had sat theorizing about perfection, and in the end had little more to show for their efforts than grandiose theories and a pile of dead clay." Art and Fear- David Bayles and Ted Orland (via qweety) Perfection is intimidating. I think most artists blocks come from the fear of creating something imperfect. (via buttastic) putting it even more simply: just make shit. eventually itl be good shit. maybe most of it will just be shit but you can't make good shit if you're not making a lot of shit. GET EXCITED AND MAKE THINGS. (via aintgotnoladytronblues) Kind of important. Ive spent way too much of my life thinking about the perfect things I could make without actually making the damned things. 26,336 notes
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Beautiful, Blessed, and Bodies : Trashmouth Your Mom > 345,987 likes Trashmouth Wow. Tough blow, this Richie Tozier news. My fiance here was a fan. I hope he doesn't take it too hard #CancelRichieTozier #BlowMe BevvieMarshHoly Shit, Rich SummerKid324 Plot Twist view all 12,243 comments reddie-fucked-me-up: Art by the beautiful @koryandr, who listened to my idea in our Reddie Discord Server, blessed my fucking seeing globes with THIS beautiful sketch, and inspired me to write a little more <3The news broke overnight: Old tweets expose comedian Richie Tozier as homophobe.There was a huge “#CancelRichieTozier” party, of course. When isn’t there? A small handful of celebrities sounded off about their disapproval, a bunch of old haters flooded his comment sections of every social media account, and even a few fans spoke out, condemning him for it and shaming themselves for not “knowing something was up with him”.If you asked Richie, the only thing they should be shaming themselves for was telling a cock sucker he was homophobic for joking about other cock suckers on the internet five years ago, but hey. Who was he to judge?Now, normally Richie would have loved to jump on the scandal. Hell, he’d probably be right there along with his haters, insisting he have the most Extra™ of cancellation parties. Unfortunately though, he happened to be sleeping when the “receipts” surfaced. It wasn’t until he awoke, bleary eyed and exhausted, that he knew anything was amiss— the sheer amount of notifications on his phone being enough to scare anyone.Especially the five missed calls from his agent.“Oh fuck me,” He groaned, falling back against the pillows once more. Eddie was right there, pushing back into his space and nuzzling his face into Richie’s shoulder in a lazy attempt to block out the light.If Richie took a moment or two to stare before turning his attention once more to the shit storm on his phone, who could blame him?He scrolled through notification after notification, mind still rather numb from the early morning, but smiling nonetheless. I mean, how could he not, this shit was hilarious! Sure, he probably should’ve been calling his agent back, but instead he raised his phone in the air, snapping a quick shot of him and his fiancé to sent to their friends.It was maybe the best picture he’d ever taken.Growing up in a town as close-minded as Derry, Richie and Eddie were just a couple of the many who were raised to believe being gay was wrong. Richie grew up desperate to believe he was anything else (well, technically he was bisexual, but that was besides the point), and Eddie grew up believing he was inherently dirty.Eventually, they found a home in each other, but it had taken some time. They didn’t know how to allow themselves to be intimate, and there were a lot of stumbles. Just as there always is with your first love. Except, that “first love” was going to be their only love. Richie had made it official weeks ago. He liked it, and he finally, finally put a ring on it. He just… hadn’t gone public with it yet.Eddie didn’t mind. They were both still far more uncomfortable with public displays of affection than they’d care to admit. You could be run out of an arcade is someone thought you were so much as flirting with a guy. That kind of hardwiring took time to change.Well… looking at this photo— at the way their bodies could just exist together— Richie started to wonder if his hardwire wasn’t glitching. He just couldn’t get the math to work. Why would this ever be something he didn’t want to share? The way Eddie could just close his eyes and mold himself against Richie’s entire body, trusting him with this… this precious thing he was. This thing that probably should’ve belonged to someone more deserving, but he gave to Richie.With one last tired smile at the photo, Richie decided to do what he does best:Not think.It was a little difficult typing with one shoulder pinned under Eddie, but he managed fine enough, typing his official response to all the drama.“Wow. Tough blow, this Richie Tozier news. My fiancé here was a fan. I hope he doesn’t take it too hard #CancelRichieTozier #BlowMe”
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Baked, Dad, and Fail: theguilteaparty So my mom told me a story... Growing up, my mom and her siblings would make banana bread every week. Literally every week since the first one of them learned how to make it, they started making banana bread- lo and behold though, they liked it with walnuts and they all knew their dad hated walnuts. So they made a special loaf of banana bread just for him every week, just for him to eat. Nobody else was allowed to eat it because that was his banana bread, baked especially for him. So anyways, they did this once a week from middle school up until every last one of them moved out of the house (and considering there was at least 10 years difference from the oldest to the youngest, this was quite some time). So that's like... 16 years of weekly banana bread. And he always finished it. He, without fail, ate the whole loaf of bread by himself. That's approximately 835 loaves of banana bread. Now Skip ahead a few years... and they're all visiting and baking banana bread and they start making a dad's bread and their mom comes in, "I don't think he can handle eating one more slice of banana bread!" "What are you talking about? He loves banana bread! He had it all the time!" This is when my grandma, their mom, broke the news that my grandfather loathed banana bread with every fiber of his being. He just adored that his kids loved him enough to make him a special loaf of banana bread every week (and he didn't have the heart to tell them that he couldn't stand banana bread) and he was incredibly, utterly upset that my grandma told the kids his big secret. My grandfather was a loving, patient, gentle man who absolutely hated banana bread but loved his kids so much more and I just wanted to share that with you guys. I think this story is just about the perfect example of the kind of person he was. Dad and the Banana Bread

Dad and the Banana Bread

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