bunburyahoy replied to your post: Prepare yourself. November is coming.

I so wish I could do it. Maybe I’ll try to keep the pace for my thesis writing. You’ll be awesome, though! How’s Sound World going?

It’s going okay. There’s still a lot of things I just need to bunker down and get through in order to really say it’s cohesive, like naming things, but a lot of the magic details are pretty solidified and I’ve got one or two of the cultures down. I’m focusing a lot on the things I want to involve potential characters in, so I’ve been working on royal traditions in one of the nations since I want to write about the queen of that nation. I’ve written this abomination piece, if you’d like to read it.

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Incredibly Detailed, 3D-Printed Visualizations of Entire Albums

moniquill:

jenkristofu:

So I didn’t know that freaking dragons existed. Just look at them. Just look. They hide under a disguise of feathers and call themselves bearded vultures. But I see through their lies.

Just a reminder:the natural diet of these birds is BONES. Not just bone marrow; actual bone shards. They pick up huge freaking bones from carcasses and drop them onto rocks until they get spiky pieces and then they swallow them. Their stomach acid dissolves bone. Also fact: when sufficiently threatened, they’ve been observed to deliberately puke on the threat.

gothiccharmschool:

Custom bracelets of soundwaves? Okay, that is very nifty. And while the I know the purpose is for “empowerment” and giving your kid a message to carry with them, I kinda want one that is a soundwave of “The blood is the life”. Ooooh, or one that is a representation of “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!” Hi, I’m ridiculous. Via roguesandevolution:

Sound Advice

This is such a cool idea. It’s a custom bracelet of a soundwave rendered in 3D. The bracelet is “designed” by the waveform of the message it encodes. And they’re a steal of a deal at $18.

The bracelets are part of the Sound Advice Project, a teen anti-drug abuse initiative, geared at getting parents to talk to their kids. The idea is that, as a parent, you record some message to your child (“Drugs are bad, m’kay”) and he or she carries that message with them at all times. Not sure that giving a 3D model of a soundwave is really the most direct way of talking to your kids, but it sure gets points for creativity and conceptual chutzpah.

manfurarm:

nevver:

Ladybird Mimic Spider

 #fucking spiders man #ANYTHING could be a spider #you reach into your fridge and pull out a popsicle SURPRISE IT’S ACTUALLY A FUCKING POPSICLE SPIDER #you’re walking down the street and a hydrant tackles you GUESS WHAT COCKSUCKER #HYDRANT SPIDER #you reach out in the dark and flip on a light switch AND YOU’RE FUCKED IT WAS A LIGHT SWITCH SPIDER #YOU JUST GAVE A LIGHT SWITCH SPIDER A FUCKDAMN HANDJOB #NICE GOING YOU SKETCHASS ARACHNOFONDLER

ambient-entropy:

What a great clarinet - I want one!

modernizing:

The Aeolus Acoustic Wind Pavilion is a wind-singing metal sculpture by Bristol-based artist Luke Jerram that lets windy gusts and breezes find their capacity for articulation. Using no electrical power to assist the melody-making, nylon harp strings are attached to some of its tubes, diverting wind into the centre of the work to create sound. Even the unstrung tubes are tuned to an aeolian scale to hum at low frequencies.

day eight → companion 

Nina held her flute to her lips, blowing a soft tune of three notes. “Hello.” The spade, a male of about an arm’s length, splayed his arms and caught the wind in the soft skin that connected his fingers, clasping shut to trap the air. He let it out in short increments, with a squeeze of his arms to change the pitch, to create the same tune. “Hello.”

The girl reached into her bag and pulled out a soft root about the size of her hand, as well as a small blade. She held the root out in front of her with both hands, nudging it close to him. The spade stuck his nose out to sniff the vegetable, licking the end closest to him, and made a crooning sound. The pitches were high, hard to distinguish, but she thought he said: “please.”

She pulled it close to her, using her knife to shave off a bit of its skin, and placed it down in front of the spade. He sniffed again, then reached its long tongue out and pulled the skin into his mouth. He made an appreciative sound - Nina didn’t think it meant anything, but she couldn’t be sure - and walked closer to her, sniffing her leg. “Human,” he said through scratches and scrapes in the dirt. “Thanks.”

Nina played into her flute, “do you want to come with me?” The spade whipped his tail around, getting a sense of the area and where she’d been walking from. It was winter, and without a burrow, he had nowhere to go but to a human village until the flowers bloomed again. He crooned again, and she knew it meant “yes.”

She put her hand down on the ground, and the spade scurried up to her shoulders, wrapping his arms around her with his feet grasping the straps of her bags. Nina smiled, though she knew he couldn’t see it, and cut another piece of the root off, slipping it back to him over her shoulder. She stood back up once he was adjusted and nibbling on his food, and continued on her way.

day seven → formal 

“What are you wearing?”

“It’s the latest thing in the south,” Talo explained, holding up two ends of the wide brim of her skirt and twirling around to show off the colours. “It’s a wedding dress, but I think it’ll look great for the party. Not even Kita will be able to match this.”

“Kita isn’t the sort of man to dress like a southern bride, no.”

“Oh, who asked you?” Talo let go of her skirt and leaned down to smooth it out as best she could. The fabric’s texture was naturally wrinkled, a result of the dying process, and layered so that the bottom flared out. She stood up straight and smiled at her husband. “Come on, I make it look good, don’t I?”

He chuckled, reaching out to touch her hand and pulling her close to him.

“If anyone could make a sixteen colour dress look good, it’d be you.” He paused to give her a kiss. “But I’m afraid even your beauty doesn’t make it look any less like a painter’s cleaning cloth.”

Talo scowled, pulling away to give him a light smack across the side of the head.

“Remind me again why I married you?”

“I believe you said you loved my witty personality.”

She gave a disapproving click of her tongue, but leaned in for another kiss. He gave her a cheeky smile as she pulled away, and Talo gave him a half-hearted glare in return.

“You’re lucky I do, or you’d be staying with your brother tonight.”                                                

day six → flame 

Juri laid out a thin strip of metallic cloth across the rim of the piano, just above the keys. The same length as the bottom row of keys, with faint black rivets where the second row began and ended. He took a brush slicked in oil and painted the strip, slowly and carefully, so as not to touch the wood, then struck a match and set the flame upon the rim.

When the oil lit, the flames were even. An ear’s length above the cloth. He reached across the keyboard, hitting the highest pitch note, and as the key struck the wire, a tendril of flame on the far right rose ever so slightly above the rest.

He hit each note on the way down, and the flames jumped to meet the pitch. Until he hit the fourth rok. The flame rose in the same place as the fourth tan he’d hit two place ago. Juri clucked his tongue and reached into his pocket, taking out a tuning wrench. He went to the back of the piano, lifting up the top, and turned the fourth rok’s notch ever so slightly.

He pressed the key again, and the flame peaked just above the key. Five notes more were out of tune, and he fixed each one. Once he’d gone down they keyboard, Juri placed a finger on the far right key once more, and ran it down the length of the keys, satisfied when the flames created a wave to match the music.

A short, five note jingle later and the flames were extinguished. He stood, rolling up his cloth and putting it in his bag, and headed for the door, picking up the satchel of bronze coins left by the piano’s owner at the door. All in a day’s work.