The ballerina’s portrait is cursed. I see her dancing in the greenhouse, her face twisted in grief and rage.
(The following is a verbatim transcription of an account found inside the frame of the Werner painting ‘Ballerina’ during its restoration. According to its owners, the Vogt family, the painting had always been called by the family ‘The Little Kuznetsov’.)
My mother loves this painting, the small, delicate portrait of a ballerina. She says it is beautiful, and gazes at it every day, drinking in the fine lines, the feathery costume, the traces of gleaming silver at brow and throat. It is a dream, for her, a dream of beauty and grace.
The painting is the stuff of my nightmares. Since I was small, I’ve seen the ballerina. I’ve seen her dancing in the library, pirouetting on the balconies, flitting along the halls. The costume is the same, the hair, the form, but her face… her face is twisted into a mask of suffering. She wants to stop, I know she wants to stop, but she can’t. She cannot stop dancing.
She is like a ghost in this house, and she has always frightened me.
I hoped she would go away as I grew older, but she has not. Instead, I see her more often now than ever, sometimes even by bright day, not in twilight or moonlight or candlelight as I did before. I think she sees us - she never dances into anyone - but she has never looked at anyone.
Not until the day that she does. I enter the greenhouse at twilight, and she is there, dancing between the long lines of pots and planters, and in that moment she turns and looks at me, her face twisted with grief and anger, and for a moment she holds out an imploring hand to me. Then she is gone, leaving me shaking and sweating with the shock of it, the terrible pleading in her tortured eyes.
I am very interested! Not in the least because this very blog was apparently credited for some of the images (which I in turn got from Trekcore.com, so I’m not exactly the right person to credit, but they didn’t ask me where I’d gotten them from!).
I’m really quite baffled as to the purpose of this article? ‘Bizarre facts’ - what does that mean exactly? What stance are the authors taking on the topic, are they saying basing an entire character around her cleavage was sexist or ridiculous? I honestly don’t think they have any stance at all, other than sharing these ‘tidbits’ of information. They neither celebrate nor condemn the decisions made by the producers, thus I don’t really understand the purpose at all.
Then again, they did include over a dozen pictures of Troi, including no less than nine in a row, so perhaps I’m overthinking things here and it’s simply a ‘yay boobs!’ “article” - in which case I’m rather offended that they even credited me for the images, because that is the exact opposite of what this blog is for.
Finally finished this thing (a patreon pattern by @shitpostsampler ) after… like 8 months, hahah! Once it’s washed and all, it’ll want a home, so if anyone needs some encouragement in their life…
i‘m late but wanted to do something for @wrightfamilyweek ! this one’s for the vacation prompt. trucy definitely learns to drive someday and then its roadtrip time
I’m here to share my Minao comic I did 2 years ago. I was planing on sell it but it did not go so well. A few ppl got interest in it and I end up giving up on selling it! well….It is what it is right. So I’m here to share it with the minao fans I got a long the way bc It was so difficult to do and I had a lot of work but it was fun and I loved doing it! Keep it only to myself is so wrong and I wanted to share with you guys <3
So here it is the shareable link on google drive. You can see or download it
And I’m not asking any money for it but you can support me or help me donating any amount of money you can and just if you want to to my paypal account: [email protected].
That’s all. I hope you all enjoy it, sending messages telling me what you think of it!
IMPORTANT NOTE: THIS IS A 18+ COMIC ONLY!!! PLEASE DO NOT DOWNLOAD IT IF YOU ARE UNDER AGE
1. The service was supposed to be over at ~7:30pm so I could shut down the building and be out by 8. The service itself was standing-room only. There were a FUCKLOAD of people. Everyone left pretty quickly? There were a few stragglers but they left by about eight. Except the family. At eight, it’s unofficial protocol to turn the lights off in the other parts of the building so the people in the chapel know that hey, we’re CLOSED, get OUT without actually saying “hey, leave” lmao. So this family stuck around and talked until 8:45. EIGHT. FORTY-FIVE. By this point, I’ve shut off all the lights, I’ve dimmed the chandeliers in the lobby, and I am THIS FUCKING CLOSE to just shutting the lights off in the chapel because I JUST WANNA GO HOME. When they finally get out the door I just lock it, not caring if they heard me. I could’ve been home in my pj’s by the time they finally left. I was so annoyed lmao.
2. We got hopelessly lost getting to a cemetery. There were three of us: the director in the lead car, the hearse, and myself in the flower car. We were driving to a cemetery about two hours away, and the director’s GPS suddenly crapped out. So we pulled over, and she had the hearse lead us, since he SAID that his was working. As soon as we hit a dead-end on the gravel road, deep in the middle of nowhere, we realized that he had put in the WRONG CEMETERY. So the director used my phone to get us to the cemetery, which wasn’t that far from where we were lmao. As we were waiting for “first dirt,” the director looked at me and was like “hey I’m just gonna go home when we’re done” and I was like “god I wish that were me” but everything worked out fine in the end.
“And here is what I like to call the ‘think tank’,” Carlos said jovially, flinging the door open with as much flourish as he could manage. “Do ya get it? Huh, huh?”
Mal, the newbie that he was showing around, didn’t so much as blink.
Carlos resisted the urge to sulk. It took him a long time to come up with these puns— some reaction would be appreciated! Even if it was apocalyptic rage like Azar tended to favor, at least that was something.
“So, this is where the Ideas are stored?” Mal said curiously, striding inside without any of the hesitance that new interns usually showed.
Carlos blinked in surprise, before hurriedly going in after them, trying to regain control of the situation. He wasn’t so good with kids…
“Um, yes!” he said, falling into pace beside Mal. “As you know, I’m the head Idea man around here, so I help with creation next door, and then somebody brings them over here to be sorted and put away. That’ll probably be one of your duties, since you requested to work in this department.”
Mal hummed in vague acknowledgement, eyes darting back and forth as they took in the thousands of lightbulbs suspended in the air, each held in a separate container that had a small sticker on it.
Carlos could see the wonder in their expression, and he couldn’t resist a smile. It was a magnificent sight— this room contained all the innovations and sparks of inspiration that would ever be gifted to mankind, and it was truly a thing of wonder. Even Carlos, who had been working here for over six centuries, never tired of the sight.
So I have always been obsessed with the food of Nancy Drew and when I was in hospital/ bedridden I took it upon myself to collate as many of the food items (just stuff you could actually make i.e. no oranges or loquats) as I could find in all of the games. Recently was tidying up my computer and found my list!
