art by night

I'm a 30 year old disabled lesbian living in the middle of nowhere, Australia with my girl, all our pets and enough books to act as insulation. I paint, draw, needle felt, knit, spin, take photos, and what ever else I can get my hands on. Creating is like breathing. Health gets in the way of both at times.
This tumblr has my art, crafts, photos and things I love and find interesting. Mostly Sherlock related at the moment.

Home
Archive
Subscribe (RSS)
Ask me anything
Random post
Twitter
My Art
My Dreamwidth
LJ Art Master List

Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor

 

asdfghjkl-i-cant: specialkredberries: nothingbutthedreams: mia-the-wonder-slut: misscoco: The world is a mean place, so I’m bringing this picture back. “Serena McKellen” - Sir Ian McKellen Best human. SERENA MCKELLEN……………………????????????!!!!!!!!!!! i think this makes for a good 10,000th post

asdfghjkl-i-cant:

specialkredberries:

nothingbutthedreams:

mia-the-wonder-slut:

misscoco:

The world is a mean place, so I’m bringing this picture back.

“Serena McKellen” - Sir Ian McKellen

Best human.

SERENA MCKELLEN……………………????????????!!!!!!!!!!!

i think this makes for a good 10,000th post

Incurable Hippie: Disability and Sexuality Resources

hardtospeakwithoutatongue:

takebacksexuality:

I have been doing some research on sex and disability, and thought I would share some of the links I have found. This will be useful for me in the future as a resource, and hopefully to others too.


Disability and Sex General Links

some of these are better than others I think.

#xmentales has people \o/

Thanks to the dog chewing up one of them and another tearing through we are low on heat packs. I use these constantly, every day to manage my pain. I make the grain filled sort that you chuck in the microwave. It’s basically the main reason we have a microwave. They make such a difference to my pain. They are pretty much the only reason I can function some days. Great for cold nights, aches and pains, headaches, pulled muscles, dislocations, arthritis etc. 

We have nowhere to set up the sewing machine without excavating the kitchen table and running an extension cord. It’s a lot of messing but making one by hand takes me a whole day. So I’m setting up the machine and wondered if anyone else was interested in buying some heat packs. 

The basic ones are about 9 inches by 7 inches. Depending on what material I dig up they are usually made from the pants legs of pyjama pants that have holes in them so I can’t wear them any more. I think I have a few pairs of jeans to use too. Once that runs out I’ll find some polar fleece or something. I’m just after expressions of interest for now. I’ll put up pictures of the ones I’ve made an people can pick the material they want. For me the patterns don’t matter because they are behind my lower back all the time.

They are basically a fabric bag with a velcro opening on the top so you can refill them when the grain gets old, or wet or burnt. This is what I’ve found lacking with commercial heat packs. No way to replace the filling. This way you can also empty it and put the bag through the wash. I’ll ship them empty because postage would be ridiculous otherwise.

I’ve filed mine with white rice because it’s what I have available right now. Something like flax seed, buckwheat or wheat is more stable. The white rice crumbles after not very long. I think my next ones will be raw buckwheat because I can get that cheap. You can add dried flowers to yours if you want but it gives me asthma.

For the basic velcro heat pack it would cost $5 and shipping wouldn’t be much, it would go through as a large letter.

For $15 I could do simple embroidery or applique. Outline of a pic, something fandom or cute or someone’s name etc.
I could do something more complex or with custom fabric. Price would depend on what it is though, feel free to ask if you have an idea.

I could also do small, square heat packs to go in your pockets as hand warmers. These would be $5 for two.

I’m also thinking about more complex shapes for different parts of the body, contoured to stay on your neck and shoulders or with ties so you can keep them on a knee or ankle etc.
If you’re interested in something like this then let me know and I’ll work our prices

Heatpacks are quite safe unless you over heat them. I don’t recommend heating them for more than 2 minutes and you’re probably better off starting at 1 minute and then increasing it up to two if you want it hotter. If it’s too hot you can burn your skin and I have read about fires starting but if you don’t over heat them, this wont happen. I’ve been using mine for over 15 years and never had any trouble. 

I know it’s coming in to warmer weather in the Northern Hemisphere but these keep forever and they are great for pain as well as cold nights.
I have read that you can put them in a zip lock back and keep them in the freezer but I’ve tried it and while they are cool they’re not cold enough for me. I use a flexible gel ice pack.

Let me know if you are interested. message me here, post a comment on my dreamwidth http://kath-ballantyne.dreamwidth.org/762992.html or email me at kath(dot)ballantyne(at)gmail(dot)com

This love isn't good unless it's me and you.: Mark Sheppard - The Man Who Made it Into Nearly Every Fandom

iamshadow21:

mattdekayandtimbomer:

antonomasia09:

relatedworlds:

erinchu:

atleastimnotbrentspiner:

millyzoreen:

winny-chester-the-pooh:

Badger in Fireflyimage

Canton Delaware in Doctor Who

image

Arnon in Charmed

image

Crowley in SupernaturalimageBenedict Valare in Warehouse 13

imageAnd Graham Tanaka in Dollhouse

image…

Also, the Ring Director in Chuckimage

And Tom Prescott in Burn Notice

image

he also did this

Don’t forget Cecil L’Ively on The X-Files. That’s where I first saw him.

showmeyourassbutt:

theofficialariel:

Princess to Prince Transformation

All characters portrayed by Richard Schaefer (Me)

Costumes also made by myself. My Fan-page


how

Wow. Gorgeous. Fantastic costumes. I love these

ziyaedabahija:

mymodernmet:

Pipe cleaner sculptures by Lauren Ryan

Animal sculptures made of nothing more than pipe cleaners that are occasionally cut with scissors.

omg the little okami hELP

OMG How? What?? These are amazing. So gorgeous and realistic. 

snapdraws:

Apologies for the terrible image quality - I’m lacking scanner access at the minute so I had to take these photos on my phone

I was reading hyperbole and a half’s blog entry explaining their experience of depression and decided to make another sketchy comic based on my experiences with anxiety, which is another mental illness I think people tend to misunderstand quite frequently

Hopefully this will be of use to some people - whether they suffer from anxiety themselves or if they just want to know more about it

pearlo: Surely someone’s written that genderswap story. oh god

pearlo:

Surely someone’s written that genderswap story.

oh god

atheistangel: Because equality starts at home.   It was the most sincere display of appreciation that my five-year-old son has ever shown. He looked me straight in the eyes and said a very mature and worldly “thank you.” The words were full of honesty, relief, happiness and a little bit of anguish. “You’re welcome, baby,” I said looking at him with a smile and masking the pain I was feeling. “You look so pretty.” My gender creative son was thanking me for buying him a dress to wear to Christmas Eve dinner. He had eyed the ensemble weeks ago and asked to wear it for Christmas so he could take “fancy pictures by the fireplace and the tree. I told him no. Not because the outfit was made for girls and he is a boy, but because had I bought it then he would have wanted to wear it immediately and often and when we finally sat down to Christmas Eve dinner it would have been thrashed. He talked about his “Christmas outfit” nonstop and asked everyday if it was time to go buy it. Today was the day. We got home and both ran up the stairs to my bedroom with its mirrored closets. I sat on the floor removing price tags while he tore off his “school clothes,” which he wears as a disguise when out in society so that people will think he is all boy. He wears “school clothes” so that he won’t get teased, have to sit by himself at the lunch tables and so he will get invites to birthday parties. More than anything he wants to be thought of as “normal.” But, he’s not. He closed his eyes as I put on the black bubble skirt covered in sequins, the red long sleeved t-shirt that says “JOY” on it in glitter and the black sequined vest. I spun him to the mirror. He opened his eyes, took himself in and then thanked me. My first reaction was to smile. He reminded me of when I was a little girl and wanted a show stopping dress for the holidays. My dresses were made of scratchy fabric that made noise when I moved. I wore white socks with lace trim and stiff, shiny Mary Janes. I learned at an early age that beauty is pain. My son looked sassy and beautiful. He looked natural, happy and truly comfortable for the first time that day. Then I felt pain. If the rest of the world could be more empathetic, accepting, welcoming and kind, my son could be this happy and comfortable all of the time — because then my son could be a boy who dresses like a girl and not have to think twice about it. The world isn’t like that. Other people can’t see the beauty in my son in a dress. I haven’t always seen the beauty either. Two and a half years ago this scene from my life wouldn’t have happened. I wouldn’t have bought girl clothes for my son. Never. Ever. Back then, I felt uneasy when he played with Barbies. When he tried to dress feminine, I’d hand him his brother’s masculine hand-me-downs and tell him to put them on. I didn’t give him choices because I knew that his choices would be pink with sparkle and rhinestones. His choices would smell like the raspberry vanilla body spray he snuck from bathroom and hid under his bed. Then I realized that my actions were telling him “you can’t be you because I want you to be what society wants you to be.” My husband and I changed the way we were parenting. There was something unique about our son that we could choose to support or destroy. We had to follow his lead. He led us to the pink aisles at Target; and, that’s not a dangerous, harmful, unhealthy place for a boy to be. My son’s Christmas dress is hanging in his closet. He checks on it before and after school and a few other times each day. On Christmas Eve, a dozen members of our family will gather around the table in honor of religious beliefs and to celebrate the passing of one year and the start of another. It will be the first holiday that my son will join us at the table dressed as a girl. We won’t care. We will tell him that he is beautiful, inside and out. And, we’ll mean it. xoxo, C.J.’s Mom Raising my rainbow ♥ Love this

atheistangel:

Because equality starts at home.

 

It was the most sincere display of appreciation that my five-year-old son has ever shown. He looked me straight in the eyes and said a very mature and worldly “thank you.” The words were full of honesty, relief, happiness and a little bit of anguish.

“You’re welcome, baby,” I said looking at him with a smile and masking the pain I was feeling. “You look so pretty.”
My gender creative son was thanking me for buying him a dress to wear to Christmas Eve dinner.
He had eyed the ensemble weeks ago and asked to wear it for Christmas so he could take “fancy pictures by the fireplace and the tree.

I told him no. Not because the outfit was made for girls and he is a boy, but because had I bought it then he would have wanted to wear it immediately and often and when we finally sat down to Christmas Eve dinner it would have been thrashed.

He talked about his “Christmas outfit” nonstop and asked everyday if it was time to go buy it.

Today was the day. We got home and both ran up the stairs to my bedroom with its mirrored closets. I sat on the floor removing price tags while he tore off his “school clothes,” which he wears as a disguise when out in society so that people will think he is all boy. He wears “school clothes” so that he won’t get teased, have to sit by himself at the lunch tables and so he will get invites to birthday parties. More than anything he wants to be thought of as “normal.” But, he’s not.

He closed his eyes as I put on the black bubble skirt covered in sequins, the red long sleeved t-shirt that says “JOY” on it in glitter and the black sequined vest. I spun him to the mirror. He opened his eyes, took himself in and then thanked me.

My first reaction was to smile. He reminded me of when I was a little girl and wanted a show stopping dress for the holidays. My dresses were made of scratchy fabric that made noise when I moved. I wore white socks with lace trim and stiff, shiny Mary Janes. I learned at an early age that beauty is pain.

My son looked sassy and beautiful. He looked natural, happy and truly comfortable for the first time that day. Then I felt pain. If the rest of the world could be more empathetic, accepting, welcoming and kind, my son could be this happy and comfortable all of the time — because then my son could be a boy who dresses like a girl and not have to think twice about it. The world isn’t like that.

Other people can’t see the beauty in my son in a dress. I haven’t always seen the beauty either. Two and a half years ago this scene from my life wouldn’t have happened. I wouldn’t have bought girl clothes for my son. Never. Ever. Back then, I felt uneasy when he played with Barbies. When he tried to dress feminine, I’d hand him his brother’s masculine hand-me-downs and tell him to put them on. I didn’t give him choices because I knew that his choices would be pink with sparkle and rhinestones. His choices would smell like the raspberry vanilla body spray he snuck from bathroom and hid under his bed.

Then I realized that my actions were telling him “you can’t be you because I want you to be what society wants you to be.”

My husband and I changed the way we were parenting. There was something unique about our son that we could choose to support or destroy. We had to follow his lead. He led us to the pink aisles at Target; and, that’s not a dangerous, harmful, unhealthy place for a boy to be.

My son’s Christmas dress is hanging in his closet. He checks on it before and after school and a few other times each day. On Christmas Eve, a dozen members of our family will gather around the table in honor of religious beliefs and to celebrate the passing of one year and the start of another. It will be the first holiday that my son will join us at the table dressed as a girl. We won’t care. We will tell him that he is beautiful, inside and out. And, we’ll mean it.

xoxo, C.J.’s Mom
Raising my rainbow ♥

Love this