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The Drawing Board

Teenage Wasteland
I pulled out an old photograph from university. My best friends and I were in a group project for Science, Technology, and Society II: “Submit a photograph depicting conventional use of technology.” 
If I remember correctly, we chained ourselves to the mobile handsets and laptops and game consoles and Playstation Portables of the era (tablets were a new thing then) and sat around this vintage furniture set one of us owned. We dressed in black; our highlights were black. Our props were a mix of silver gadgets and discarded make-up paraphernalia. 
I clearly remember the class’s shock and awe the printed poster unraveled during presentation. They made no sound; they said “Woahtheforkdudethatisniiiiice!” with gaping mouths.
The class instructor-slash-professor-in-the-making was a young, handsome fellow. He would be my age now at the time. He was the complete opposite of conventional, traditional, and dry. I remember he had this “Geez, impressive. Can’t wait to show off my students to the faculty.” kind of look. That very reaction, too, was noiseless, but I know I read it. 
Anyway, we aced it, and we rocked. I have the poster on my wall at home. I hadn’t drawn anything in five months, but happened to stare at that picture poster during my vacation grande last week. I pulled out my two best friends from university and, there they are.
You may not flirt with them without their permission.

Teenage Wasteland


I pulled out an old photograph from university. My best friends and I were in a group project for Science, Technology, and Society II: “Submit a photograph depicting conventional use of technology.” 

If I remember correctly, we chained ourselves to the mobile handsets and laptops and game consoles and Playstation Portables of the era (tablets were a new thing then) and sat around this vintage furniture set one of us owned. We dressed in black; our highlights were black. Our props were a mix of silver gadgets and discarded make-up paraphernalia. 

I clearly remember the class’s shock and awe the printed poster unraveled during presentation. They made no sound; they said “Woahtheforkdudethatisniiiiice!” with gaping mouths.

The class instructor-slash-professor-in-the-making was a young, handsome fellow. He would be my age now at the time. He was the complete opposite of conventional, traditional, and dry. I remember he had this “Geez, impressive. Can’t wait to show off my students to the faculty.” kind of look. That very reaction, too, was noiseless, but I know I read it. 

Anyway, we aced it, and we rocked. I have the poster on my wall at home. I hadn’t drawn anything in five months, but happened to stare at that picture poster during my vacation grande last week. I pulled out my two best friends from university and, there they are.

You may not flirt with them without their permission.

A fellow Swedophile, and apparently a somewhat authority on Tumblr about loving things from Sweden, is swedophile.tumblr.com.
Now, I very rarely use colors aside from red to sketch, as red is my trademark. However, as tribute to the the North and to swedophile’s very lovely blue eyes, I just had at it at blue and yellow.

A fellow Swedophile, and apparently a somewhat authority on Tumblr about loving things from Sweden, is swedophile.tumblr.com.

Now, I very rarely use colors aside from red to sketch, as red is my trademark. However, as tribute to the the North and to swedophile’s very lovely blue eyes, I just had at it at blue and yellow.

writinblack:

I knew you, and your laughter, and your guilt, and your eyes. I felt your sadness when you said that you saw someone else while you liked me. I knew you wanted to cry in front of me, and you expected me to hate you infernally. And now you are gone. All I have left is the memory of your eyes: the sky fell into them when the Cosmos put you on earth. And you were put on this earth to make me laugh and feel loved sincerely for the briefest of moments if not any longer.

writinblack:

I knew you, and your laughter, and your guilt, and your eyes. I felt your sadness when you said that you saw someone else while you liked me. I knew you wanted to cry in front of me, and you expected me to hate you infernally. And now you are gone. All I have left is the memory of your eyes: the sky fell into them when the Cosmos put you on earth. And you were put on this earth to make me laugh and feel loved sincerely for the briefest of moments if not any longer.

(Source: theblackinkpot)

This is Joakim Dal of Mutewatch, in Sweden. Last time I checked, there exist approximately two photographs of this gentleman on the interweb: one is the colored photograph of this, from which I took the sketch’s model, and the other is a sepia-slash-black-and-white edit of the original picture. I like the Mutewatch concept; it’s pretty functional and hormonal-ly attractive (long-hand way to write the word “sexy”, hah). I’m just not sure if they’re exporting down here from the North: http://mutewatch.com/

This is Joakim Dal of Mutewatch, in Sweden. Last time I checked, there exist approximately two photographs of this gentleman on the interweb: one is the colored photograph of this, from which I took the sketch’s model, and the other is a sepia-slash-black-and-white edit of the original picture. I like the Mutewatch concept; it’s pretty functional and hormonal-ly attractive (long-hand way to write the word “sexy”, hah). I’m just not sure if they’re exporting down here from the North: http://mutewatch.com/

All honor and glory to http://tamaspal.tumblr.com/post/38811137526and his gent friends who took their tea on a train. I’m not sure if the train was traveling through Budapest at the time, but Tamas is Hungarian, and from the capital. Kudos to dashing dapper gents who put an effort into dressing well and being quirkily respectable!

All honor and glory to http://tamaspal.tumblr.com/post/38811137526and his gent friends who took their tea on a train. I’m not sure if the train was traveling through Budapest at the time, but Tamas is Hungarian, and from the capital. Kudos to dashing dapper gents who put an effort into dressing well and being quirkily respectable!

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