Never laugh at beginnersA clear explanation of why you can not laugh at the kids and beginners.
Some users (not just spectators, but also good artists) young authors criticize, laugh at "curves" works. This is silly, especially when the authors do not ask for criticism.
Criticism does not work, it just hurts. Assist cautious practical advice and training. The importance of studying anatomy, drawing and theory to understand himself. It is impossible to impose.
The only important thing: the love of his work, love for the intermediate result and a great desire to paint / sculpt. It is better if the young author will draw hundreds of pictures a month of unsuccessful than successful one once a year.
At the same time, it is important to invest ourselves into work, rather than mechanically drawing the line. But investing is not possible if you do not love yourself and your creativity.
I started sculpting in 2006. If I were recaptured desire, if not there were people who liked even the first of ... I'd never sculpted
Are You Alright?Are you alright?
You've asked me this so many times,
And the answer is always 'yes'.
Quite frankly, why do you care?
What if the answer is no?
Do you care then?
Am I alright?
I've never really thought about it.
It's easier to be happy than to
Think about all the reasons I'm not,
Easier than thinking of you.
I still remember when you grabbed my hand.
An unusually casual gesture for
Someone you don't know,
But that is when I fell for you.
That's when I was happy
Before I started crying.
The crying came later.
The crying came the day after
You told me I was the only one for you,
That you couldn't be without me.
And I believed you.
The crying came the day you ripped
My heart out of my chest and carried
It with you as you walked away.
And you have still never returned it.
Am I alright?
No, I don't think so.
I'm not sure if I ever was.
I told you how I loved you before
You left, but you didn't care.
And you don't now.
Fine, Fine, FineFine, Fine, Fine
Nothing changed in the classroom when Maria Diaz went missing. It was as if she'd never been there, sitting in her spot in the corner where the teachers couldn't rescue her from the other kids. Whoever said words never hurt was a liar in denial. Maria would have preferred the sticks and the stones. A broken psyche doesn't mend as cleanly as bone.
"Yo, Clarissa, wake up." Before she could turn in the direction of his voice, Sam punted a paperclip right into her forehead.
"What was that for? I was totally awake already." She whined. Mrs. Benson wasn't even finished her lesson yet. The fat witch was still writing math equations on the blackboard, oblivious to everyone snickering about how her ass was so big it didn't even look connected to her back. Mrs. Benson was gross; math was stupid. Clarissa was bored. Typical school day.
Sam grinned that imperfect grin of his. He needed braces. "If anyone would have invented a way to see through their eyelids, I guess it'd b