If you ask yourself why ARTISTS (Photographers, Designers, Singers, Dancers, Musicians, Tattoo artists, Painters, Makeup artists, or anyone who falls under the artist category) charge "so much" for services... We don't get paid vacation, we don't get paid sick days, we don't get bonuses for outstanding performances nor for Christmas. We don't have insurance plans. We sacrifice our family on special days so that we can bring fond memories and happiness to others. Illness or personal affairs are not excuses for a bad performance. Next time you ask, remember that ARTISTS are ARTISTS because of the love of their craft, but that love doesn't pay debts. Happy Artists Day!! Reblog if you're an ARTIST
So everytime I type something wrong or use the wrong word or the wrong tempus or grammar etc. I always get paranoid that someone who has english as their native language, will read what I wrote and spot all the mistakes I made and think, “Is she stupid or something??” or “Damn, her english is horrible, I am never going to speak to her ”.
Has anyone ever read 怪談と踊ろう そしてあなたは階段で踊る (Kaidan to Odorou Soshite Anata wa Kaidan de Odoru) by Ryukishi07? It’s a completely separate story than Higurashi, but according to the JP Wikipedia, it’s a series with a classroom setting really similar to that of the Hinamizawa school’s, and even…
Political leaders in St. Petersburg are about to vote on law that will make it illegal for any person to write a book, publish an article or speak in public about being gay, lesbian or transgender. The ruling party led by President…
‘Fat’ is usually the first insult a girl throws at another girl when she wants to hurt her.
I mean, is ‘fat’ really the worst thing a human being can be? Is ‘fat’ worse than ‘vindictive’, ‘jealous’, ‘shallow’, ‘vain’, ‘boring’ or ‘cruel’? Not to me; but then, you might retort, what do I know about the pressure to be skinny? I’m not in the business of being judged on my looks, what with being a writer and earning my living by using my brain…
I went to the British Book Awards that evening. After the award ceremony I bumped into a woman I hadn’t seen for nearly three years. The first thing she said to me? ‘You’ve lost a lot of weight since the last time I saw you!’
‘Well,’ I said, slightly nonplussed, ‘the last time you saw me I’d just had a baby.’
What I felt like saying was, ‘I’ve produced my third child and my sixth novel since I last saw you. Aren’t either of those things more important, more interesting, than my size?’ But no – my waist looked smaller! Forget the kid and the book: finally, something to celebrate!
I’d rather they were independent, interesting, idealistic, kind, opinionated, original, funny – a thousand things, before ‘thin’. And frankly, I’d rather they didn’t give a gust of stinking chihuahua flatulence whether the woman standing next to them has fleshier knees than they do. Let my girls be Hermiones, rather than Pansy Parkinsons.