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Tastes Like Science

I'm Rose, Biochemist by education, Husky, rower/coxswain, unintentional hipster, and amateur experimental cook.

I have a tendency to do a lot of political and fanish posts; not always unrelated to one another.


Read the Printed Word!
Aug 28 '14
Alright, this is for day 1 of the 30 day art challenge (aka #improvementhell): a self portrait and an introduction. So, I’m Rose *waves* I haven’t done much art in the last couple years and I want to force myself to get back into the habit. This is a kind of hasty sketch done while looking at the dining room mirror, but hey, old school selfie!

Alright, this is for day 1 of the 30 day art challenge (aka #improvementhell): a self portrait and an introduction. So, I’m Rose *waves* I haven’t done much art in the last couple years and I want to force myself to get back into the habit. This is a kind of hasty sketch done while looking at the dining room mirror, but hey, old school selfie!

Aug 28 '14

caitlynkurilich:

The Thurifer, Owler, The Palace Guard, The Archer, & Gwyn | Graphite on Moleskine, 12” x 16 1/2”, 2013.

A collection of various ladyknights and wanderers I’ve drawn.

Aug 25 '14

An Ollivander’s Wand is Not Meant For the Sea

seiya234:

thepostmodernpottercompendium:

image

Those wizards without their sea-legs scoffed at our magic. They laughed at our “substandard” wands made from merpeople scales, shards of sea dragon teeth, or the hair from a hippocampus. They chuckled because we used wood from sunken ships and far off places, wood that Mr. Ollivander had never seen.

“Not up to scratch, those sailors’ wands. Not made by Ollivander!” rang in our ears each time we went to shore.

Have you ever tried to barter with a mermaid for her scales while struggling to resist her song?

Have you ever tried to fight a sea dragon off your ship as its tail wraps around the flimsy wood and starts to squeeze?

Have you ever even seen a hippocampus?

No, our wands were not made from valuable wand woods or expensive materials, but they were wands, all the same. They were powerful in different ways.

They channeled the fear of the drowned. The peace and freedom of the vast ocean. The violence of the Maelstrom. The cunning of the merpeople. The grace of the hippocampi. The magnificent destruction that characterizes the sea dragon.

But our wands were powerful not because they were wands, but because they were not all we used to cast our sea-spells and water-magic. Our wands were never meant to be the end-all of magic, but a crude expression of far older, far more elegant sea-spells and water-magic.

In the tar used to seal the planks of the vessel together we mixed drops of our blood. We learned that from the hot ports of Africa. Our ship never leaked.

On our three masts and figurehead were carved harsh and jagged runes that spoke of the harsh waters of the Arctic. My mast was hacked and chiseled by a descendent of Leif Eriksson himself. My masts never broke; the figurehead would spring to life and tear apart the ships we overtook if I gave the word.

My first mate learned to stitch sails from a woman who spun the threads from the foam of the sea itself, from the kami of the ocean. My sails needed no raising and lowering, no trimming; that was for amateurs and landcrawlers. No, my sails reacted to the slightest wind, moving of their own volition and taking me where I wished to go.

And whenever a storm would approach, the crew would circle around the mainmast and begin a chanting, stomping dance we learned from the First Peoples of the West Indies. Somehow, the waves were never quite high enough to cause us danger, and the winds never fought against my vessel, however the storm raged.

Those fools that passed for wizards did not know or care about our magic on the sea, but their vaunted Ollivander wands are worse than useless on the swells and the troughs. That’s land magic. There are far older magics in the world, magics that tap into the very fabrics of the deep earth and vast fathoms. They try to control the world around them with magic, but the world will not be controlled. Their magic is puny compared to the fury of the ocean.

Sail through a hurricane with one of your wands.

I have some new deckhands that need good wands; the wood from your shattered hull would do nicely.

When it is you sailing against the vastness and power of Poseidon and Sedna and Mizuchi and Tangoroa and Njord all at once, you do what you must to survive.

The sea has no boundaries, no borders, and neither does our magic.

We ask we put to shore, wherever that may be, if there is some way to connect ourselves to the might of the sea and become one with the waves and winds. We seafarers learned long ago that to fight the sea is to drown. Our magic is from the sea, not from land. That, Mr. Rookwood, is how and why we survived.

- Captain Alanna Jones, famed wizarding pirate and great-granddaughter of Davy Jones

(Submitted by mastersamwiseofthefryingpan. Photo 1)

oh fuck this is cool as fuck

Aug 25 '14
scienceyoucanlove:

inmytsinelas:

Oops, I made a thing.

this website

scienceyoucanlove:

inmytsinelas:

Oops, I made a thing.

this website

Aug 25 '14

(Source: braingremlin)

Aug 25 '14
Aug 25 '14
Aug 22 '14

monobeartheater:

tooquirkytolose:

~And they lived happily ever after~

This was really dumb and a lot of fun to draw :D

this is amazing

Aug 22 '14

iamtheibetch:

quilleth:

knitmeapony:

suzie-guru:

familiaralien:

xtattooedheart:

birdologist:

I can’t even hear what this dude’s saying but look at how ineffectually angry this bird is.

I’ve had days where I’ve wanted ti shriek like this at people too.
As a side note, I love that barn owls are used to often in art, and considered the most beautiful species, yet they make a noise like Satan’s chalkboard.
Majestic.

So much for owls saying hoot :U

"Are we ready, little one?"

*SCREECH OF MURDEROUS RAGE*

I’ve got nothing but love for folks who call angry, screeching predators ‘little one’.

"DO NOT CALL ME CUTE PITIFUL HUMAN CREATURE!!  i AM DEATH! DEEAAATHH!!"

Maybe I’ve had a cat for too long but I too was thinking “dawwwww” the whole time. “Who is mama’s little murder machine? You are, yes you are.”

Though how much do I love how quickly that owl NOPED right out of there. SEE YA FOOLS I’M OUT.

"and he says ‘let me go or I’ll eat your face.’ Yes I know, you are so cute." <33333 BEST

Aug 22 '14

sakura-milk:

kauvera:

supernatural-aka-tearsandgay:

wiener-cest:

demeaniac:

STOP SCROLLING

straighten your back, mate

NOW GO ON

woah thanks i really needed that today

tumblr user demeaniac doing little favors for tumblr one post at a time

FUCK THIS POST HAS SHOWED UP LIKE 10 TIMES TODAY AND I HAVE BEEN HUNCHED OVER EVERY FUCKING TIME

PLEASE KEEP THIS GOING it is the best reminder for me ever and I always need it omg

I want this post to have 1 million notes *^*