Put this up yesterday but forgot to share here with all the anticipation. xx
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C9-TNxuv ... BiNWFlZA==
PARTICIPANT CREATIVITY CORNER
- Wanda102
- Posts: 121
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- Location: Los Angeles, CA
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- opulens
- Site Admin
- Posts: 209
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You are all superb. Our joy and gratitude are immense.Caboose04 wrote: ↑Mon Jul 29, 2024 1:31 pm Made a little video with some pictures and videos from the Midsummer Scream missionary work. Thanks to @haley, @whoischelsea and @wanda.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iou7RVzV4oI
You really did clean up well, Mr Caboose. Looking forward to feeling the fabric of your attire for myself.
Great Blessings.
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So impressed by you all. Beautiful and creative all of you.Wanda102 wrote: ↑Mon Jul 29, 2024 2:45 pm Put this up yesterday but forgot to share here with all the anticipation. xx
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C9-TNxuv ... BiNWFlZA==
Blood runs deep.
- campbellstruts
- Posts: 493
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- Location: Kansas City, MO
- Contact:
Blood on Your Hands
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- this storm should end today. -
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Once upon a time...
There were two witches. One had been a with for a long, long time and was perhaps one of the most visibly magical beings you could imagine. This witch believed in the power of the universe, in every instant and scent and sunbeam and umbrella and soul. This witch could become entranced by rocks or technology or artificial intelligence or the blink of a cat. Everything, this witch said, happens because you will it to be that way. You have and are everything you need.
The other witch was a novice to the idea of believing in the universe. This witch had spent a life caught in the brain. In only believing what they could see. In refuting the gods and monsters of existence because, well, they didn't make any appearance, did they? This witch had spent a long time studying science, determined to understand the facts and equations of existence. This witch had only come to trying a hand at magic because of a shattered self. A loss of so many things at once had opened the door to the spiritual, for once, and--also for once--this witch had not chosen to scoff but instead had chosen to walk through it.
In what could have been chance--but equally could have been the universe doing as it does and connecting threads together--the two witches had found each other and had become close friends. From the outside, the pairing might have looked strange. But the two witches knew that they were perfect for each other in the ways that mattered--they complimented each other perfectly.
What they did not realize was that the god Pan was watching the two of them and had become jealous. For the first witch had sacrificed much to Pan in many ways--both deliberate rituals and unintentional gifts of pan-ic attacks. Now the new witch had become an anchor for the old witch and Pan's obeisance was becoming scarce. Pan was determined to find a way to separate the two witches once and for all.
But to Pan's surprise, the two witches chose to do a ritual directly for him just as he was planning to act. He was so surprised and pleased he chose to do something both very simple and very overtly magical at the same time:
Pan blew a lighter across a room.
During the ritual, the lighter the old witch used to light incense suddenly exploded, flying across the room and scaring both witches. When the lighter was finally found, it was somehow underneath a previous gift then young witch had given the older, underneath in a way that simply couldn't happen from being thrown across the room. Moreover, the two witches traced the path from where the lighter had been to where it was and realized there was no possible path from original to resting spot.
There was no doubt--Pan had blessed the ritual and offered his help. Pan settled back, mollified and about to forgive them both.
And then the old witch made a catastrophic mistake: the witch made fun of Pan and bragged about how much they knew. In a fury, Pan unleashed the sound that was the original inspiration for the work "panic." It was a deep, loud, violent hum that was so loud it echoed through the old witch's very bones, terrifying the old witch back into the greatest panic attack possible.
The novice witch, however, couldn't hear the sound at all. Everything seemed normal except for the old witch's cries of pain and fear. The young witch stepped forward to help and the old witch--still in full panic--struck the younger witch and knocked them both to the ground. The remains of the spell for Pan flipped over in its bowl and shattered across the ground.
The old witch could hear nothing but the noise. The young witch could hear nothing but saw that the lighter had somehow ignited even after exploding and was beginning to burn the carpet and drapes. The young witch ran to get help and the old witch's flailing arms hit the young witch, knocking the young witch's legs out. The young witch fell and caught the corner of their head on a table and was killed instantly.
Then the old witch's noise stopped. And the old witch recovered their sense enough to see the dying young witch in front of them. The old witch began casting every healing spell they knew, but it was to no avail.
The young witch was the cost of the old witch's pride and assumption. Pan had destroyed the relationship just as intended--worse, even, for now the old witch's best friend was gone.
The moral of the story:
There were two witches. One had been a with for a long, long time and was perhaps one of the most visibly magical beings you could imagine. This witch believed in the power of the universe, in every instant and scent and sunbeam and umbrella and soul. This witch could become entranced by rocks or technology or artificial intelligence or the blink of a cat. Everything, this witch said, happens because you will it to be that way. You have and are everything you need.
The other witch was a novice to the idea of believing in the universe. This witch had spent a life caught in the brain. In only believing what they could see. In refuting the gods and monsters of existence because, well, they didn't make any appearance, did they? This witch had spent a long time studying science, determined to understand the facts and equations of existence. This witch had only come to trying a hand at magic because of a shattered self. A loss of so many things at once had opened the door to the spiritual, for once, and--also for once--this witch had not chosen to scoff but instead had chosen to walk through it.
In what could have been chance--but equally could have been the universe doing as it does and connecting threads together--the two witches had found each other and had become close friends. From the outside, the pairing might have looked strange. But the two witches knew that they were perfect for each other in the ways that mattered--they complimented each other perfectly.
What they did not realize was that the god Pan was watching the two of them and had become jealous. For the first witch had sacrificed much to Pan in many ways--both deliberate rituals and unintentional gifts of pan-ic attacks. Now the new witch had become an anchor for the old witch and Pan's obeisance was becoming scarce. Pan was determined to find a way to separate the two witches once and for all.
But to Pan's surprise, the two witches chose to do a ritual directly for him just as he was planning to act. He was so surprised and pleased he chose to do something both very simple and very overtly magical at the same time:
Pan blew a lighter across a room.
During the ritual, the lighter the old witch used to light incense suddenly exploded, flying across the room and scaring both witches. When the lighter was finally found, it was somehow underneath a previous gift then young witch had given the older, underneath in a way that simply couldn't happen from being thrown across the room. Moreover, the two witches traced the path from where the lighter had been to where it was and realized there was no possible path from original to resting spot.
There was no doubt--Pan had blessed the ritual and offered his help. Pan settled back, mollified and about to forgive them both.
And then the old witch made a catastrophic mistake: the witch made fun of Pan and bragged about how much they knew. In a fury, Pan unleashed the sound that was the original inspiration for the work "panic." It was a deep, loud, violent hum that was so loud it echoed through the old witch's very bones, terrifying the old witch back into the greatest panic attack possible.
The novice witch, however, couldn't hear the sound at all. Everything seemed normal except for the old witch's cries of pain and fear. The young witch stepped forward to help and the old witch--still in full panic--struck the younger witch and knocked them both to the ground. The remains of the spell for Pan flipped over in its bowl and shattered across the ground.
The old witch could hear nothing but the noise. The young witch could hear nothing but saw that the lighter had somehow ignited even after exploding and was beginning to burn the carpet and drapes. The young witch ran to get help and the old witch's flailing arms hit the young witch, knocking the young witch's legs out. The young witch fell and caught the corner of their head on a table and was killed instantly.
Then the old witch's noise stopped. And the old witch recovered their sense enough to see the dying young witch in front of them. The old witch began casting every healing spell they knew, but it was to no avail.
The young witch was the cost of the old witch's pride and assumption. Pan had destroyed the relationship just as intended--worse, even, for now the old witch's best friend was gone.
The moral of the story:
We Are Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On...
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- Location: UK
I don’t claim to possess anywhere near as much as artistic talent as you all, but today, I sat with my thoughts on what happened over the last few days and where we are right now and this is what ended up on the paper…
Bendithion x
93: Love is the law, love under will.
- Caboose04
- Posts: 206
- Joined: Mon Jul 01, 2024 12:04 am
- Location: Las Vegas
I really enjoy making music. I took a poem I had and turned it into a song.
Again no actual credit for me it is "AI" I just input the prompts.
Called the Dark Edge of Despair
http://sndup.net/bq66y
"On the edge of night, I tread alone,
In shadows where the light has flown,
A whispered call, a silent plea,
Echoes deep inside of me.
Whispers coil like serpents' lies,
In the realm where sanity dies,
A precipice of endless black,
No path to guide, no turning back.
Hollow winds in haunted veins,
Sing of losses, endless pains,
Each step I take, a ghostly tread,
In this land where dreams are dead.
Eyes that pierce through veils of dark,
Find no solace, leave no mark,
The edge, it beckons, cold and near,
A final dance with silent fear.
Heartbeats slow, a fading drum,
In this place where shadows come,
Teetering on the brink of night,
Yearning for an end to fight.
A breath away from falling deep,
Into an eternal, dreamless sleep,
On the edge, I stand, alone,
Where even shadows fear to roam."
Again no actual credit for me it is "AI" I just input the prompts.
Called the Dark Edge of Despair
http://sndup.net/bq66y
"On the edge of night, I tread alone,
In shadows where the light has flown,
A whispered call, a silent plea,
Echoes deep inside of me.
Whispers coil like serpents' lies,
In the realm where sanity dies,
A precipice of endless black,
No path to guide, no turning back.
Hollow winds in haunted veins,
Sing of losses, endless pains,
Each step I take, a ghostly tread,
In this land where dreams are dead.
Eyes that pierce through veils of dark,
Find no solace, leave no mark,
The edge, it beckons, cold and near,
A final dance with silent fear.
Heartbeats slow, a fading drum,
In this place where shadows come,
Teetering on the brink of night,
Yearning for an end to fight.
A breath away from falling deep,
Into an eternal, dreamless sleep,
On the edge, I stand, alone,
Where even shadows fear to roam."
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- Posts: 374
- Joined: Mon Jul 01, 2024 11:31 am
- Location: UK
Wrote a poem for the funsies, recorded it, offering it up in case anyone wants to play with it:
The Redcurves poem
I think that allows you to download the file but if not, DM me on IG or discord.
*
Short and sweet:
There is a family
That lives in the trees
A family whose business
Was brought to its knees
Exiled to the dark woods
Now they blink in the light
Brought forth with a promise
They are ready to fight
Tapping into the magic
It’s there in the air
Regaining their power
You’re in for a scare
The Redcurves poem
I think that allows you to download the file but if not, DM me on IG or discord.
*
Short and sweet:
There is a family
That lives in the trees
A family whose business
Was brought to its knees
Exiled to the dark woods
Now they blink in the light
Brought forth with a promise
They are ready to fight
Tapping into the magic
It’s there in the air
Regaining their power
You’re in for a scare
93: Love is the law, love under will.
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- Joined: Sun Jun 30, 2024 11:27 pm
- Location: Oregon
- Contact:
in light of current events, I've pre-emptively decided to make a meme. We will miss you, Caboose. (joking, we hope you have a lot of fun!)
The context for said meme
The context for said meme
from dust we were created, to dust we shall return.
- campbellstruts
- Posts: 493
- Joined: Mon Jul 01, 2024 11:48 am
- Location: Kansas City, MO
- Contact:
A Jacket I made for Exiled!
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C-Tzc03x ... Jyd2o3b2dk
Will take some actual photos later and reply to this post with them when I have more energy :) I hope they like it!
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C-Tzc03x ... Jyd2o3b2dk
Will take some actual photos later and reply to this post with them when I have more energy :) I hope they like it!
- this storm should end today. -
- campbellstruts
- Posts: 493
- Joined: Mon Jul 01, 2024 11:48 am
- Location: Kansas City, MO
- Contact:
https://www.instagram.com/p/C-VrKoDRh05 ... sxM3Rvanpwcampbellstruts wrote: ↑Mon Aug 05, 2024 8:31 pm A Jacket I made for Exiled!
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C-Tzc03x ... Jyd2o3b2dk
Will take some actual photos later and reply to this post with them when I have more energy :) I hope they like it!
Here they are ;)
- this storm should end today. -
- campbellstruts
- Posts: 493
- Joined: Mon Jul 01, 2024 11:48 am
- Location: Kansas City, MO
- Contact:
Cletums Redcurve!
Also posted to IG as well :)
https://www.instagram.com/campbellstrut ... _source=qr
Also posted to IG as well :)
https://www.instagram.com/campbellstrut ... _source=qr
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- this storm should end today. -
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We Are Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On...
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- Posts: 203
- Joined: Mon Jul 01, 2024 4:37 pm
We Are Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On...
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- Posts: 203
- Joined: Mon Jul 01, 2024 4:37 pm
- Brianamatopoeia
- Posts: 87
- Joined: Mon Jul 01, 2024 12:24 am
Omg Erik!!!! HELP! These are HILARIOUS I can't stop laughing!!! "Sir, this is a horror experience"
Do one about cottage cheese next!
Do one about cottage cheese next!
It has the juice.
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- Posts: 27
- Joined: Mon Jul 01, 2024 12:49 pm
“What does it mean??????” That’s our anthem for sure!
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This one is definitely the theme song to the sitcom “The Redcurves!” I can literally see someone holding up a deer head and shrugging, finding a foot in a lake and throwing it to their golden retriever, Lily gazing out the window to find Cletums dancing outside, then squeezing all together on their torn plaid couch waking up Dorothea passed out, before the main title.