Paper Mache - Tumblr Posts
God haven’t give me a weapon so i making my own
Very wip rn
(The clock Genshin Impact for frem costplay)
Funeral for a friend: decay, extinction, and saying goodbye
This paper-mache 1:1 scale allosaurus bust holds a special place in my heart, he’s one of the first sculptures I ever made. Apologies for the level of scientific accuracy here—it was 2013, I was young and naive.
The planets have aligned in an unfortunate way, and it’s time for me to send him off to the great beyond. I’ve fretted for a long time about how to do this.
I decided to let him slip away in a slow decay, rather than a blaze of glory. I’ll be documenting my buddy here slowly melt back into the earth. He’s made of paper, cardboard, and flour paste; I’ll gather up his polymer clay teeth as they shake loose during his final rest in my parents’ backyard. Big thank you to my folks for allowing me to do this weird thing.
For as long as it takes I’ll document the process of my allosaurus friend disappearing. I’ve been thinking a lot about loss and goodbyes in the past few years. Decay too. The permanence of it all makes my stomach twist, even for a silly dinosaur sculpture. Once it’s gone it can’t come back
Day 3: We’ve had good weather so everything is still very intact
Bonus pic of my mom’s cat, Martha Babka, cautiously investigating
Funeral for a friend: decay, extinction, and saying goodbye
This paper-mache 1:1 scale allosaurus bust holds a special place in my heart, he’s one of the first sculptures I ever made. Apologies for the level of scientific accuracy here—it was 2013, I was young and naive.
The planets have aligned in an unfortunate way, and it’s time for me to send him off to the great beyond. I’ve fretted for a long time about how to do this.
I decided to let him slip away in a slow decay, rather than a blaze of glory. I’ll be documenting my buddy here slowly melt back into the earth. He’s made of paper, cardboard, and flour paste; I’ll gather up his polymer clay teeth as they shake loose during his final rest in my parents’ backyard. Big thank you to my folks for allowing me to do this weird thing.
For as long as it takes I’ll document the process of my allosaurus friend disappearing. I’ve been thinking a lot about loss and goodbyes in the past few years. Decay too. The permanence of it all makes my stomach twist, even for a silly dinosaur sculpture. Once it’s gone it can’t come back
Day 4: Tomorrow it’s going to rain and I’m feeling on edge. I guess it’s the last moment to change my mind and take him back inside, but I have to let it happen. I’ll miss you, buddy
Funeral for a friend: decay, extinction, and saying goodbye
This paper-mache 1:1 scale allosaurus bust holds a special place in my heart, he’s one of the first sculptures I ever made. Apologies for the level of scientific accuracy here—it was 2013, I was young and naive.
The planets have aligned in an unfortunate way, and it’s time for me to send him off to the great beyond. I’ve fretted for a long time about how to do this.
I decided to let him slip away in a slow decay, rather than a blaze of glory. I’ll be documenting my buddy here slowly melt back into the earth. He’s made of paper, cardboard, and flour paste; I’ll gather up his polymer clay teeth as they shake loose during his final rest in my parents’ backyard. Big thank you to my folks for allowing me to do this weird thing.
For as long as it takes I’ll document the process of my allosaurus friend disappearing. I’ve been thinking a lot about loss and goodbyes in the past few years. Decay too. The permanence of it all makes my stomach twist, even for a silly dinosaur sculpture. Once it’s gone it can’t come back
Day 5: Overcast today, the first rains should be hitting our Allosaurus this evening. I’m not used to thinking of art as something impermanent, in the way we’re impermanent. I look to my cat, the people in my life, I know we’re not here forever and one of us will have to lose the other at some point. But art can live on forever, right? At least a very long time. It feels so weird to choose loss
Funeral for a friend: decay, extinction, and saying goodbye
This paper-mache 1:1 scale allosaurus bust holds a special place in my heart, he’s one of the first sculptures I ever made. Apologies for the level of scientific accuracy here—it was 2013, I was young and naive.
The planets have aligned in an unfortunate way, and it’s time for me to send him off to the great beyond. I’ve fretted for a long time about how to do this.
I decided to let him slip away in a slow decay, rather than a blaze of glory. I’ll be documenting my buddy here slowly melt back into the earth. He’s made of paper, cardboard, and flour paste; I’ll gather up his polymer clay teeth as they shake loose during his final rest in my parents’ backyard. Big thank you to my folks for allowing me to do this weird thing.
For as long as it takes I’ll document the process of my allosaurus friend disappearing. I’ve been thinking a lot about loss and goodbyes in the past few years. Decay too. The permanence of it all makes my stomach twist, even for a silly dinosaur sculpture. Once it’s gone it can’t come back
Day 6: Man oh man we had some strong winds and rain last night. Honestly my boy here held up remarkably well considering, but we’re starting to see the first real signs of damage now. It’s the beginning of the end
Funeral for a friend: decay, extinction, and saying goodbye
This paper-mache 1:1 scale allosaurus bust holds a special place in my heart, he’s one of the first sculptures I ever made. Apologies for the level of scientific accuracy here—it was 2013, I was young and naive.
The planets have aligned in an unfortunate way, and it’s time for me to send him off to the great beyond. I’ve fretted for a long time about how to do this.
I decided to let him slip away in a slow decay, rather than a blaze of glory. I’ll be documenting my buddy here slowly melt back into the earth. He’s made of paper, cardboard, and flour paste; I’ll gather up his polymer clay teeth as they shake loose during his final rest in my parents’ backyard. Big thank you to my folks for allowing me to do this weird thing.
For as long as it takes I’ll document the process of my allosaurus friend disappearing. I’ve been thinking a lot about loss and goodbyes in the past few years. Decay too. The permanence of it all makes my stomach twist, even for a silly dinosaur sculpture. Once it’s gone it can’t come back
Day 8: Oh boy the paint is really starting to flake now
Funeral for a friend: decay, extinction, and saying goodbye
This paper-mache 1:1 scale allosaurus bust holds a special place in my heart, he’s one of the first sculptures I ever made. Apologies for the level of scientific accuracy here—it was 2013, I was young and naive.
The planets have aligned in an unfortunate way, and it’s time for me to send him off to the great beyond. I’ve fretted for a long time about how to do this.
I decided to let him slip away in a slow decay, rather than a blaze of glory. I’ll be documenting my buddy here slowly melt back into the earth. He’s made of paper, cardboard, and flour paste; I’ll gather up his polymer clay teeth as they shake loose during his final rest in my parents’ backyard. Big thank you to my folks for allowing me to do this weird thing.
For as long as it takes I’ll document the process of my allosaurus friend disappearing. I’ve been thinking a lot about loss and goodbyes in the past few years. Decay too. The permanence of it all makes my stomach twist, even for a silly dinosaur sculpture. Once it’s gone it can’t come back
Day 18: I’m a little late in posting this one, but I snapped some more decay pics the other day!
Paint is bubbling and cracking, most interesting to me is how some of the individual paper-mache strips are becoming visible through all these cycles rain and drying
Funeral for a friend: decay, extinction, and saying goodbye
This paper-mache 1:1 scale allosaurus bust holds a special place in my heart, he’s one of the first sculptures I ever made. Apologies for the level of scientific accuracy here—it was 2013, I was young and naive.
The planets have aligned in an unfortunate way, and it’s time for me to send him off to the great beyond. I’ve fretted for a long time about how to do this.
I decided to let him slip away in a slow decay, rather than a blaze of glory. I’ll be documenting my buddy here slowly melt back into the earth. He’s made of paper, cardboard, and flour paste; I’ll gather up his polymer clay teeth as they shake loose during his final rest in my parents’ backyard. Big thank you to my folks for allowing me to do this weird thing.
For as long as it takes I’ll document the process of my allosaurus friend disappearing. I’ve been thinking a lot about loss and goodbyes in the past few years. Decay too. The permanence of it all makes my stomach twist, even for a silly dinosaur sculpture. Once it’s gone it can’t come back
Day 29: Flaking and flaking
Funeral for a friend: decay, extinction, and saying goodbye
This paper-mache 1:1 scale allosaurus bust holds a special place in my heart, he’s one of the first sculptures I ever made. Apologies for the level of scientific accuracy here—it was 2013, I was young and naive.
The planets have aligned in an unfortunate way, and it’s time for me to send him off to the great beyond. I’ve fretted for a long time about how to do this.
I decided to let him slip away in a slow decay, rather than a blaze of glory. I’ll be documenting my buddy here slowly melt back into the earth. He’s made of paper, cardboard, and flour paste; I’ll gather up his polymer clay teeth as they shake loose during his final rest in my parents’ backyard. Big thank you to my folks for allowing me to do this weird thing.
For as long as it takes I’ll document the process of my allosaurus friend disappearing. I’ve been thinking a lot about loss and goodbyes in the past few years. Decay too. The permanence of it all makes my stomach twist, even for a silly dinosaur sculpture. Once it’s gone it can’t come back
Day 35: The deposits of wet pollen are really starting to make this feel like some carcass you’d find in the woods
Funeral for a friend: decay, extinction, and saying goodbye
This paper-mache 1:1 scale allosaurus bust holds a special place in my heart, he’s one of the first sculptures I ever made. Apologies for the level of scientific accuracy here—it was 2013, I was young and naive.
The planets have aligned in an unfortunate way, and it’s time for me to send him off to the great beyond. I’ve fretted for a long time about how to do this.
I decided to let him slip away in a slow decay, rather than a blaze of glory. I’ll be documenting my buddy here slowly melt back into the earth. He’s made of paper, cardboard, and flour paste; I’ll gather up his polymer clay teeth as they shake loose during his final rest in my parents’ backyard. Big thank you to my folks for allowing me to do this weird thing.
For as long as it takes I’ll document the process of my allosaurus friend disappearing. I’ve been thinking a lot about loss and goodbyes in the past few years. Decay too. The permanence of it all makes my stomach twist, even for a silly dinosaur sculpture. Once it’s gone it can’t come back
Day 52: I think we’re in corpse territory now
Funeral for a friend: decay, extinction, and saying goodbye
This paper-mache 1:1 scale allosaurus bust holds a special place in my heart, he’s one of the first sculptures I ever made. Apologies for the level of scientific accuracy here—it was 2013, I was young and naive.
The planets have aligned in an unfortunate way, and it’s time for me to send him off to the great beyond. I’ve fretted for a long time about how to do this.
I decided to let him slip away in a slow decay, rather than a blaze of glory. I’ll be documenting my buddy here slowly melt back into the earth. He’s made of paper, cardboard, and flour paste; I’ll gather up his polymer clay teeth as they shake loose during his final rest in my parents’ backyard. Big thank you to my folks for allowing me to do this weird thing.
For as long as it takes I’ll document the process of my allosaurus friend disappearing. I’ve been thinking a lot about loss and goodbyes in the past few years. Decay too. The permanence of it all makes my stomach twist, even for a silly dinosaur sculpture. Once it’s gone it can’t come back
Day 58: Full Zombie
Funeral for a friend: decay, extinction, and saying goodbye
This paper-mache 1:1 scale allosaurus bust holds a special place in my heart, he’s one of the first sculptures I ever made. Apologies for the level of scientific accuracy here—it was 2013, I was young and naive.
The planets have aligned in an unfortunate way, and it’s time for me to send him off to the great beyond. I’ve fretted for a long time about how to do this.
I decided to let him slip away in a slow decay, rather than a blaze of glory. I’ll be documenting my buddy here slowly melt back into the earth. He’s made of paper, cardboard, and flour paste; I’ll gather up his polymer clay teeth as they shake loose during his final rest in my parents’ backyard. Big thank you to my folks for allowing me to do this weird thing.
For as long as it takes I’ll document the process of my allosaurus friend disappearing. I’ve been thinking a lot about loss and goodbyes in the past few years. Decay too. The permanence of it all makes my stomach twist, even for a silly dinosaur sculpture. Once it’s gone it can’t come back
Day 167: No longer seeing the eyes feels like crossing a threshold. Something unrecognizable
Funeral for a friend: decay, extinction, and saying goodbye
This paper-mache 1:1 scale allosaurus bust holds a special place in my heart, he’s one of the first sculptures I ever made. Apologies for the level of scientific accuracy here—it was 2013, I was young and naive.
The planets have aligned in an unfortunate way, and it’s time for me to send him off to the great beyond. I’ve fretted for a long time about how to do this.
I decided to let him slip away in a slow decay, rather than a blaze of glory. I’ll be documenting my buddy here slowly melt back into the earth. He’s made of paper, cardboard, and flour paste; I’ll gather up his polymer clay teeth as they shake loose during his final rest in my parents’ backyard. Big thank you to my folks for allowing me to do this weird thing.
For as long as it takes I’ll document the process of my allosaurus friend disappearing. I’ve been thinking a lot about loss and goodbyes in the past few years. Decay too. The permanence of it all makes my stomach twist, even for a silly dinosaur sculpture. Once it’s gone it can’t come back
BMO and Shelby
Adventure timeeee. In my art class we had to make paper, Mâché pop art sculptures, I made BMO and someone else made the worm in the apple but since it’s the end of the class they wanted to throw it out. So now it’s mineeee and it looks like Shelby the worm in Jakes violin ✨