Sandalwood
Rewatched the animated Charlottes Web(1973) a couple days ago, and what a surprise it was!


To start, I never knew that it was a Hannah Barbera production. 
But really, I’ve been rewatching alot of old cartoons as of late, and naturally when I do, I see themes and aspects that I didn’t notice as a kid, and generally they are done with more effort and heart than i would have formerly noticed. With this film, however, I was truly watching an entirely different film than I had in my youth. Instead of being a film about a cute little pig, dealing with life’s obstacles and rising to fame with the help of his friends; the film I watched was about Charlotte, a young artistic mind, wanting to create something new that could give greater meaning to her otherwise lonely and very short life. And through her dear and only friend, discovering that the grandest way to do so is by creating greater meaning in another’s life. 
WOW.
And I honestly thought this cartoon would be nothing but cute, which it certainly was and filled with the kind of cartoonish gayity you’ll find in most pieces from that time. But it was breathtakingly mature. As should be expected, the film personifies the animals enough to make them relatable to people, but unlike most, they make quite clear the circumstances of their life and death and make the characters much more aware of their own life spans. This done so for the films majour theme, the cycle of life, and they are constantly bringing it up althroughout the film. It’s very much the case that you’re watching the separate stories of each main character, all intersecting and each going through this cycle atleast once each, changing focus from one to the other. 
Even with the level of attention paid to Wilburs own struggle to save his life, I cant help but see the tiny little Charlotte, who hides in the background, as standing front and center of the story and moral. What a lovable thing she is. I found her motivations and interactions to be utterly spiritual. Painted as one full of wisdom, but not due to her being long lived. They give her the wisdom born of youth that is still very inquisitive and unjaded. So she doesn’t play mentor by lecturing Wilbur, but inspires him by her own earnest and art. And how telling it is that she is only capable of writing a word or two, being that she is just a spider, yet that causes no hindrance at all, and she is able to create new life in more ways than one.
Suddenly i see the title as much more telling of its content, for a web is all a spider can really show of itself, and Charlotte transforms it from being just a way to catch food and survive into a means to express herself and, just as she set out to do, create greater meaning in her life, which in turn forever changes the lives of all those around her.

My Little Hobo:: 
A Brony Love Story

from HiE Productions 

My Little Hobo:: 

A Brony Love Story

from HiE Productions 

three-apples:

Page 65
Three Apples \ Written and drawn by CapnPea \ Color by Kefkafloyd
Hello—here it is. Sorry for the completely unannounced break. Unfortunately I’ve got some real life responsibilities that kinda have to take precedence for a bit. I’ll continue working on pages, but don’t really expect three updates a week, for a little while. Sorry
-CapnPea

three-apples:

Page 65

Three Apples \ Written and drawn by CapnPea \ Color by Kefkafloyd

Hello—here it is. Sorry for the completely unannounced break. Unfortunately I’ve got some real life responsibilities that kinda have to take precedence for a bit. I’ll continue working on pages, but don’t really expect three updates a week, for a little while. Sorry

-CapnPea

Somebody asked fimflamfilosophy if he was jealous of you guys doing "your dream jobs in LA" what were they talking about (the reply by fimflam doesn't matter, it's just talking about why he's fine living in Kansas) ??
Anonymous

griffinilla:

Jenny’s dream job has always been to work at the happiest place on earth (Disneyland) and my dream job has always been to work at the saddest place on earth (Hollywood).

extraordinarycircus:

Zoe Trent is an ideal role model.

Franz Kafka, the story goes, encountered a little girl in the park where he went walking daily. She was crying. She had lost her doll and was desolate.

Kafka offered to help her look for the doll and arranged to meet her the next day at the same spot. Unable to find the doll he composed a letter from the doll and read it to her when they met.

"Please do not mourn me, I have gone on a trip to see the world. I will write you of my adventures." This was the beginning of many letters. When he and the little girl met he read her from these carefully composed letters the imagined adventures of the beloved doll. The little girl was comforted.

When the meetings came to an end Kafka presented her with a doll. She obviously looked different from the original doll. An attached letter explained: “my travels have changed me… “

Many years later, the now grown girl found a letter stuffed into an unnoticed crevice in the cherished replacement doll. In summary it said: “every thing that you love, you will eventually lose, but in the end, love will return in a different form.”

May Benatar, Kafka and the Doll: The Pervasiveness of Loss

For me there are two wise lessons in this story: Grief and loss are ubiquitous even for a young child. And the way toward healing is to look for how love comes back in another form. - May Benatar

(via mercurieux)

griffinilla:

Imagine there’s no countries
Imagine there’s no possessions
Imagine a world where Skype does not crash

You may say that I’m a dreamer…

starweilder:

trying to figure out someone else’s shower

image

askflufflepuff:

Don’t think about it too hard.

Based on easily my favorite for real people show, House M.D.
Hugh Laurie is a wizard.

foudubulbe:

What did happen when Trixie went to the rock farm?

Somewhere Under the Rainbow

Tree’s are waving welcome home 

Footsteps first meet pastures green 

Where lily laden meadows yawn 

And laughing hills lie down to sleep 

I call out to my brothers afar 

And fill it with reunions play 

Our family ten thousand strong 

Let burst our hearts these numbered days 

As lively sun comes and joins along 

The meadow opts to shy away 

The dance floor blushing red with dust 

We turn up stones to decorate 

As parting ways our dancing dies 

The sun takes rest on aging clouds 

Torrents fall on thirsty earth 

And wash away the lingering sound 

In silence now the meadow wakes 

The stones surround with vibrant greens 

Old trees alight the trodden floor 

And foot paths flood to form new streams 

The flora find their home again 

With hills all dressed in flower beds 

The nourished earth forms softer paths 

And fauna rouse to dance in our stead 

Without even a footprint left 

It looks untouched when comes the dawn 

Reborn the earth puts us at ease 

Our long trip back to Babylon 

(written while at rainbow. the whole time which i didnt even pick up my notebook, but the moment that it started raining a poem came pouring out. i find it humorous it seems my inspiration has come to rely on rain. back to my usual iambic tetrameter, although i took a note from my last poem and didnt insist on using strictly 8 syllable as i always have, allowed it to flow a little more loosely. ill probably stick to doing that from now on.)

The Things Which Thou Hast Seen

Giants are building cyclopean walls 

With too many gunposts and barracks too small 

And the higher they rise it gives way at the seams 

But with bleeding out veins they will still build it taller 

Now oceans are filled with the blood of new life 

For forging our pyramids ten thousand floors high 

While submarines frozen await now the sun 

Homaging sailors seek substitute light 

Now brothers of nations join arms where they reach 

Find time to relax on our silicon beaches 

But while oversea homes make for towers anew 

Their bones are ground for the sand and are whitened with bleach 

Yet preachers are preaching the greatness of man 

From pulpits sprung forth from the water and the sand 

Beneath twisted metal and damnation’s veil 

He screams, seafaring vessels care nothing for dams 

And the bird with two wings depends not on the branch 

Your faith is your fate and you fate is at hand 

(first doing iambic pentameter. im rather fond of it, but it will take some getting used to thinking in that rhythm. i wrote this just before leaving for rainbow, i feel like it was preemptively inspired by that same energy though. also, it was written to the tune from the latter half of Madera by Hey ocean. i generally read it straight, but i wrote so that it would fit with that tune.)

this is one of my all time favourite pictures

this is one of my all time favourite pictures