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Still sitting with yesterday’s post… it hit deeper than I expected. When I picture the angry driver, the cold coworker, the friend who ghosts — I see the scared 5-year-old they used to be, still waiting for someone to keep them safe. Suddenly everything clicks. The armor, the snapping,...

24,986 görüntüleme • 9 ay önce •via X (Twitter)

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When I saw the mask "Tribes of the Calf" from Kanbas I knew I had to make it into reality. The jewelry and gold really made it stand out for me. Since Sam Spratt's The Masquerade was revealed, I have been spending time sculpting and dissecting the mask to recreate it in 3D as faithfully as possible. I delved into the creation of this mask for many reasons. I love a good challenge and this mask surely was one for me. Creating something in 3D from a 2D image is not easy, and especially when the source has generative nature, some stuff is hard to interpret, but I tried my best to make sure the visual integrity of the mask is as close to the original as possible. Splitting the whole mask into parts, filling the missing pieces so I can build the textures was quite a lot of work. I tried to present the mask in my own style with a slightly different colorway to adapt to the mask itself. Please enjoy this short animation, and turn on sound🔊 This piece is my statement that I am here to stay. That I have a voice that often feels being lost in the void. That I have been creating and posting digital art for over 20 years now and will continue until I'm gone. I have a story to tell and I want to be heard. The space we have here is small, and is shrinking day by day. It doesn't have to be like that. We need to support each other and push ourselves and people here, otherwise we are all doomed. As Kanbas has put in their observation of the mask: "Inspirational. Emotional. Natural." This is what our space can be, and this is me making a statement with this homage. I will share a 4k still below as well as a short video showing the 3D GLB interactive model together with a yt link to the 4k video since compression here is pretty bad.

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5 years ago today, life as I knew it vanished: a cascade of symptoms I couldn’t name, days that blurred into months. A body that betrayed me. Hope that turned into confusion. I was a wife, a mom and I believed in the promise of science. I rolled up my sleeve and got my shot not because I thought I was invincible, but because I believed in contributing to something bigger than myself. If I could, I would never wish this on anyone. 2025 has been the hardest year yet. Promises made. Yet the door to healing never opened. Month after month, I find myself asking: Was all of this for nothing? Has it all been in vain? Then last weekend, kindly invited me to the 5th Annual Brownstone Event. What I expected to be a simple gathering of like-minded people turned into something unexpected. Jay Bhattacharya and closed out the event reminding us of the beautiful community in which we now find ourselves, forged through the last 5 years. Reminding us of the priceless wisdom we have gained and the importance of continuing to make sure these injustices never happen again. Finally after a closing prayer by Fr. John Naugle, the entire room fell silent, literally left speechless, moved and changed. Grief and uncertainty, was replaced with purpose, resolve, and love of country and our fellow humans. Both of these men reminded me that this is anything but senseless. Even in the wreckage, there is purpose. Our suffering bears witness to truth, to courage, and to the power of human spirit. That hollow space that’s grown in me this past year, created by disappointment and uncertainty, filled again. Not with answers, but with a renewed sense of meaning. A reminder that light still exists, and that what we’ve endured can still serve something greater than ourselves. I still don’t have the answers. But I’ve learned that meaning doesn’t come after the pain, it’s something we create through it. Every act of kindness, every conversation, the community we build, that’s how we fight back. 5 years later here I am. Still breathing. Still fighting. Still striving to turn this brutal chapter into change. To everyone walking (and rolling) this road with me: I see you. I’m proud of you. And I’ll keep fighting with you. Here’s to meaning. Here’s to hope: exactly how fragile, exactly how stubborn, and exactly how alive it needs to be.

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ROSALÍA UPDATE

788,732 görüntüleme • 18 gün önce

Souls accustomed to anxiety think that reassurance is a trap.. In the darkness of my days, I was never as weak as I thought; I was being reshaped. I realized that pain didn't come to break me, but to reveal the strength I had forgotten within me Every fall was a path toward deeper resilience, and every ache was a lesson in silent endurance. I learned that light is not given, it is created from within—when the heart refuses to surrender. And in the end, I understood that darkness was never my enemy, but my teacher—the one who taught me that true strength is born when you learn to light your own way.. My dear friends... This is Mo... This is Gaza... A ceasefire has been declared, and the war has stopped, but the reality has not changed. We are still lost. Houses are destroyed, and most people live in tents. We cannot live properly. We are struggling to adapt to life after the war, as if the war has not yet ended. Silence has replaced the bombing, and Gaza is quiet, as if it were a ghost town.. I went back home. I was shocked by what happened on Galaa Street and Nasr Street. Nothing was left there.. My house is still standing, but it needs some rebuilding. There's rubble in the garden. There's gunpowder, too. There's damage to the sewage pipes and internet cables... I took the solar panels with me. If I hadn't taken them, they would have been destroyed. The technician will install them again, and the plumber will come to fix the sewage pipes and install the barrels.. I have a hard week ahead of me to fix everything that's been damaged in my house... but I'm satisfied... satisfied because I'm lucky to still have a home.. The saddest news is that the cat shelter was completely destroyed... and unfortunately some of the cats escaped... only 13 cats remain... How cruel war is.. I had 65 cats two years ago and by the end of the war I had 13 cats.. What is the fault of these innocent souls? But the war is over... and together we can rebuild everything... Everything will be better than before... Everyone who knows me knows I can get through it... I've been through worse and tougher times and I got through it.. In the video below, I'm on my truck journey from south to north. The photos below show one of the rubble that collapsed on a house. Other photos show some of the cats that survived the genocide.. Dear friends, I need you to rebuild what the war has destroyed. I don't want to fix everything. I want to fix what allows me to live, because the prices are ridiculous... I want to buy sewer pipes, bring in a plumber, install septic tanks, install solar panels, and repair the damaged brick roof so that rain doesn't run into my house. I also want to build a beautiful, cozy shelter for the cats and provide them with love and warmth .. I need your support to start over and my cat, my family and I would be very grateful to you.. And at the end of this strange journey, we came away with some lessons, some wounds, and a lot, a lot of pain. Thank you for listening, and thank you for your moral support, and thank you for standing by me throughout the past two years. Love you all, my friends.

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