Final art project art selfies
Yes I still fingerpaint what do you mean there are other ways to paint
Also the essay for this thing is a pain
i made out with a piece of cardboard for this
With the inevitable papers I have to write for midterms, I like to entertain myself by including fun footnotes.
Like in this essay I’m writing on sarcastic YA narrators I said that “they’re just really, really fun to read.” And then in a footnote I included:
"Though extremely inconvenient if…
I hate writing art essays about my projects because I always feel like my process is not interesting at all, so why write about it?
About a million months ago, Liv and I talked about a Percabeth spy AU where they have to go undercover and live together and there are silly domestic mishaps and they have guns and spy on the neighbors and so I finally started it! I think it needs some work but I’ve been…
Percy’s last exhibition of the night was rarely a big draw, not when the carnival lights were on and blazing with color, and the air of Circus Bacchanalia’s midway was thick with delicious smells and the delighted shrieks of their patrons as they bounced from attraction to attraction. He always had a nice, small crowd, usually full of repeat customers who want another chance to ogle Perseus the Great: The One and Only Son of Poseidon! when their parents or chaperones weren’t around to censure their longing sighs with stern looks.
He wasn’t vain by any means, but it’s certainly not a shock to him that he gets the biggest gasp out of this particular crowd when he strips into his bathing shorts than when he jumps into a tank full of blood thirsty piranhas for their amusement. Either way, he gets their 25 cent admission, so it didn’t bother him much.
Tonight his tent was empty, save for one blonde girl lounging in the front row. Her stockinged legs were kicked up over the arms of her chair, like she owned the place, her brimmed cap tipped low over her face and glove hands tapping an impatient rhythm on her knee. Percy knew immediately she wasn’t here for the show and this certainly did bother him.
He scowled at her as he pushed the curtain to the stage aside.
“Scaring my audience away again, Wise Girl?” Percy said, hopping down to the floor in front of her and crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought we called a truce. Mr. D’s not gonna be happy about this.”
“Relax, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth drawled, tipping her top hat back up to reveal her stunning grey eyes and smug smile. The illusionist was forever turning up when Percy least expected her and always with that smile in tow. “There were only two or three of your admirers milling about; hardly an audience worth worrying about. I sold them a few of your ‘specially autographed cards anyway, just so you wouldn’t pout.”
inspired by astrid’s very cute early concept art