Jasmine, aspiring novelist/engineer/game writer who sometimes draws stuff
My friend code is 3497-0671-5545, add me !
How is it that in a film whose premise rests on the idea of reimagining the past, present and future, we still end up with a blonde white woman with flashing blue eyes as the stand-in for what personifies evolution and supremely fulfilled human potential? At one point the Ape-like Lucy and Evolved Lucy meet face-to-face as Evolved Lucy does a bit of time-traveling. Their fingers touch, and we see them deliberately posed to mimic the famous Creation of Adam painting, and in that moment I saw what I suppose we were supposed to see: humanity at its beginning, and then humanity at its end, at its most perfect. Blonde, white and blue-eyed.
I can’t accept that. I can’t accept that there was only one black woman in the entire film, who delivered one line and who we never saw again. I can’t accept that the bad guys were Asian and that although in China, Lucy’s roommate says, “I mean, who speaks Chinese? I don’t speak Chinese!” I can’t accept that in Hercules, which I also saw this weekend, there were no people of color except for Dwayne Johnson himself and his mixed-race wife, whose skin was almost alabaster. I can’t accept that she got maybe two lines and was then murdered. I can’t accept that the “primitive tribe” in Hercules consisted of dark-haired men painted heavily, blackish green, to give their skin (head-to-toe) a darker appearance, so the audience could easily differentiate between good and bad guys by the white vs. dark skin. I can’t accept that during the previews, Exodus: Gods and Kings, a story about Moses leading the Israelite slaves out of Egypt, where not a single person of color is represented, casts Sigourney Weaver and Joel Edgerton to play Egyptians. I can’t accept that in the preview for Kingsman: The Secret Service, which takes place in London, features a cast of white boys and not a single person of Indian descent, which make up the largest non-white ethnic group in London. I can’t accept that in stories about the end of the world and the apocalypse, that somehow only white people survive. I can’t accept that while my daily life is filled with black and brown women, they are completely absent, erased, when I look at a TV or movie screen.
I don’t like short dresses. I can’t seem to control my expression and legs at the same time, the photos always turn out a mess :(
Anyway! Flower dress and headpiece are all finished, step by step instructions for this dress can be found on my blog, and a video tutorial for the headpiece is here!
The whole thing is sheer, but you can’t really tell because the petticoat is white and i’m very pale ;;
It was designed, drafted, made, and worn by me! Took 16-ish hours to make, spread over a seven day period. Has about sixty dollars worth of fake flowers in it and several yards of silk organza, poly chiffon, and tulle.
I was a fun and easy little project. I enjoyed it.
Valor: A fairy tale anthology about courageous heroines starts today!
Valor is a comic anthology of re-imaged fairy tales showcasing the talent of some of the top creators in the field of digital comics. The purpose of this book is to pay homage to the strength, resourcefulness, and cunning of female heroines in fairy tales. Some of these are recreations of time-honored tales. Others are brand new stories, designed to be passed to future generations.
The anthology will be young adult friendly and in color, each story being 4 to 15 pages long.
PLEASE CHECK OUT THE KICKSTARTER PAGE TO SEE OUR LIST OF AWESOME CREATORS AND OUR FANTASTIC REWARDS!
CLICK HERE for the Kickstarter
CLICK HERE for the official tumblr.
Hey y’all! Elena (Yamino) and I are contributing art and stories to this anthology, so if you like her art and my writing, please consider backing us! There are so many incredible talents at work here. I promise you won’t be disappointed!
I’m so excited to be part of this!! 8D If you can’t contribute, reblogs and signal boosts are much appreciated! <3
“I am older than Olga, this I know. But my exact age… my parents did not raise me, so I am unsure…”
“You were ten when I met you,” says Catharine. She looks up into the pale sky, her gaze the distant green of foggy moors. “Maybe eleven? You were tall already, I remember… you came running down the beach and your legs were so long—”
The last Missing Moment of the week is up! <3 Read it here!
Basil Soda for Daenerys in Astapor.
BY MY SIDE, THE POOL
I don’t actually live anywhere near a pool so I listen to music to pretend that I do
- GOOEY by Glass Animals
- GIRLS by Jamie xx
- HARM IN CHANGE by Toro Y Moi
- GIVING IT ALL by Bondax
- ANNIE by Austra
- FLORIDA KILOS by Lana del Rey
- THE KILL by Flying Lotus (feat. Niki Rand)
- METROPOL by Christoph Andersson
- STONECUTTERS by Flying Lotus
- TRISTAN CORBIERE by Cold Cave
- TONGUES (RAC Mix) by Joywave (feat. Kopps)
- MY TOUCH by Toro Y Moi
- IT’S YOU by Bondax
- NEXT TO YOU by Poolside
- PAINFUL LIKE by Austra
- LULLABYE by Grizzly Bear
Yes, of course I’ve heard what the superstitious locals say: “Stay out of the mountains! There’s no shelter on those harsh peaks, and every last combe and glen is infested with killer spiders!”. They say there’s no way to safely cross that mountain range - anyone trying to rest high up on the peaks will die of exposure, lashed by cruel icy winds. Better that, though, than to risk seeking shelter in the forested vales.
The Crawling Death, they call it. Great glossy black eight-legged fiends, some small enough to creep between the rings of your maille, some large as a splayed hand and quick as a cat, and some - so they say - the size of dogs. Or swine. Or cart-horses. The tales have been exaggerated in the telling, of course, since hardly anyone dares venture far into the gullies and ravines that lace between the majestic peaks (most certainly not at night, when the Crawling Death make their appearance, silent as a shadow).
Even if they’re not quite as large as people say, they’re certainly no less deadly. The king’s physicians, who had the unenviable task of tending to the survivors of the last failed expedition, wrote down in stomach-turning detail the precise symptoms of that merciless venom. Erupting blisters the size of a hen’s egg. Flesh blackening, rotting, and sloughing away from the bone. Sweating, drooling, trembling, nausea, vomiting, ranting and raving and spasming like a creature possessed until death seems like a mercy. Others were gripped with a pain unmatched by any wound of war, paired (curiously) with an erection hard as any standing stone.
And yet, in spite of all this, I’m planning an expedition into the mountains. It’s true, I haven’t the equipment with me to safely shelter from the bitter cold above the tree-line, out of the reach of skittering legs and poison-slick fangs. I have no blessing from the gods, and no miracle of alchemy intended to keep the Crawling Death at bay. What I do have, though, is a map. A map from a past age, a more enlightened age, where the cartographers had a decent understanding of the sciences, rather than the encyclopaedic knowledge of rumour and superstition that seems to be the requirement for a mapmaker these days. And from this map - and the journals that I found with it - I have deduced one particularly salient fact, that I am convinced will allow me to make the journey through the supposedly arachnid-infested ravines in perfect safety.
The superstitious peasants might say every last one of those valleys is crawling with deadly poisonous creatures, but in fact, most of them are utterly empty and safe! However, my map has revealed the source of this rumour: Spiders Gorge, which contains over ten thousand spiders, is an outlier adn should not have been counted.
i feel you deserve some sort of prize for this
i saw that post at the perfect moment